Spring Cleaning

When I look at all of the shit that needs to get done in the next few months, I can’t even work up the energy to cry. The voices in my head aren’t just screaming; they have somehow acquired instruments and are playing marching band music 24 hours a day. I haven’t even been able to follow much of the news lately, which is sad, because I gather that some very interesting stuff has happened in some New England town not too far to the north of here in the past week.

I said in my previous post that opponents of gun control are defensive and insecure. But it’s not their guns that they’re afraid of losing, because if they really opposed gun control, they wouldn’t mind me handing a loaded Uzi to an infant and would support the sale of tanks, bazookas, and nuclear warheads to ordinary civilians. No, I think what they’re scared of is change. It’s been this way for too long. It’s time to get off your asses and do what’s right. If your kid died in Newtown, you’d be singing a different tune (that, or you’d be a total sociopath). Like Senator Rob Portman, who opposed gay marriage until he learned his son was gay, it’s time for the far right to understand that the only reason they believe what they believe is because they’ve never been hit where it really hurts. For their own sake, I hope they realize their folly before somebody else gets hurt.

I should take some time to talk about my time management skills. See, I spent the bulk of my afternoon working on an assignment that requires decent spreadsheet skills. If mine were good, it would have taken me about 30 minutes. But since mine aren’t, it took me fucking hours. And it was only the first part of a much larger assignment. I wish I were good with computers. I wish I were tech-savvy. I wish I at least knew how to work a damn spreadsheet. And learning to do those things is, I have discovered, tedious and kind of painful. I guess that serves me right for not going to the recitations. And there was so much else that I was thinking about doing today. Oh, well. Also, my mom didn’t call, which is unusual for her. (FYI, I’m writing this part on Sunday, even though it likely won’t be published for another day or two.)

I’ve fallen behind on my reading. I was trying to read A Storm of Swords, but haven’t gotten very far since starting over a month ago. And since it’s hard for me to pay attention, I am now splitting my time between two audiobooks rather than one. The problem is just that no matter how much I get done, I still have moments where I’m just sitting around trying to figure out what to do next. I don’t get out all that much, honestly. It’s not just that I can’t find the time to do a lot of shit, but I’m not really sure if enough time even exists. As always, I can almost hear the older and wiser amongst us saying that of course there is. All I know is that I haven’t checked some of my favorite blogs in ages and have applied for only a couple of jobs.

It has nothing to do with anything, but David Cross has done a better job explaining why “literally” is the most misused word in the English language than I ever could.

While I’m at it, I should say that for some reason, I’ve had this inexplicable desire to watch more Hollywood blockbusters lately (as opposed to the art-house shit I normally see). I’m really excited for the upcoming Star Trek movie. Many purists feel that the new movies are too watered down and action-oriented, and while there is some legitimacy to that, it doesn’t bother me all that much. The characters are basically the same, so for my money, it’s still Star Trek. Watching the new trailer, however, I was reminded of one smartass who quipped, “It’s a relief to see Star Trek, at long last, returning to its roots as a dour exercise in British dystopianism.”

Justin Bieber said something really stupid lately. The response from the offended party was surprisingly classy, but Bieber is still kind of an ass. I’m waiting for him to crash and burn. Not hoping for it, but let’s face it, how long do you think his moment in the sun will really last? He thinks it’s all about him, but it isn’t. He’s a product, nothing more, nothing less.

There is nothing more annoying than lying awake trying to get some sleep. Whether it’s early in the morning, late at night, or even in the middle of the afternoon, it always sucks.

Carlos Mencia is unique in that he is the only comedian I know of whose work makes me so angry that I actually want to do harm to him. How anyone can even speak to him without punching him in the face is beyond me. Jeff Dunham is racist, kinda, but since his humor is so dumb, it’s hard for me to care either way. I find the old guy dummy kind of funny, though. The Blue Collar Comedy tour is fairly lame, but Ron White is pretty funny.

I don't think Jack looked much like this.

I don’t think Jack looked much like this.

I’ll get around to talking about the whole terror Boston thing soon. There’s so much to unpack. One thing I will say is that true psychopaths are difficult to spot. They don’t sit at the back of the bus muttering to themselves. They seem friendly, but have a smile that is a bit too wide. Something just seems…off. It’s hard to tell right now, but I think that’s what these guys might have been. Bye for now.


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