Wednesday, November 13, 2013

Fine. Fuck it. Yeah, add it to the list.

So maybe i have some tendency to hoard. Or maybe i'm lazy-feeling a majority of the time when i'm at home. Possibly both. Anyway, the time has come for me to do something about it. Recognition is the first step.

I am a hoarder. A hoarder with anxiety, prone to depression, and with a history of panic attacks, who has had one minor psychotic break. Awesome. And single. Can you believe that?

I know there shouldn't be 11 dirty dishes that i can see from here in my bedroom. Honestly though, 4 of those things are cutlery so it's not that bad. Oh shit! I didn't count cups - add five. not that big a deal. Yeah, 15 is my limit anyway. It's fine.

Beers cans? Strew about a bedroom? Ridiculous. Well i'm rollin' 12 deep. I go for a solid 18 before that's a thing. It's fine.

My roughly 80 square feet bedroom has precisely 6 square feet of clear floor area? So? At its cleanest it only has 30 square feet. Why do i need five times as much space? What am i, the Queen of Sheba? It's fine.

And the rest of the place? It's full, yeah. There aren't like tunnels or shifting mounds of stuff (except two places where it's supposed to be like that). I'm certain there are no dead cats buried anywhere. Mainly because i won't let the evil monsters in my home. I mean, gross. Anyway, i live with Cousin Roommate who is also an artist and artists need stuff, man. And since it's not all mine to control, why bother controlling any thing? Even myself. . .


I think we've made a break through here today.


Yeah, whatever.

Sunday, November 3, 2013

Oh how soon my words bite me in the ass

I have this friend, let's call her Nellie. I give Nel a lot of shit about how she longs for this one dude but never really goes for it. She's all, "What if he doesn't like me?" And i'm all, "Yeah, so what? At least you'd know. You can still fantasize about him either way - you don't need mutual consent for that. It's always better to know than not to know." I said those words at about 8 o'clock last night. That was approximately one hour after the dude i pine over and who was supposed to come out with us last night sends us texts saying he couldn't come to the bar because he lost his ID but maybe when his best friend (dude-wife more like) gets to town we can meet up somewhere else. We'll call this guy Carl due to his unnatural affinity toward sweatpants. Anyway,  Carl keeps sending texts saying he's waiting for his butt-buddy, Ass Bag, but now it's late, we're back from watching the band i wanted to see and i'm itching to see Carl so i take matters into my own hands and text Ass Bag, who happens to also be my cousin, to get his ETA. Here's where shit gets nuts.

You see, this whole time, Nel has kept saying that Carl is probably lying and he and Ass Bag are probably playing with each other's joysticks in front of the PS4 and talking about how lazy and stupid they both are and how they're a match made in heaven. Cuddling and passing pipes and whatever. "No, no," i say, "that's crazy. I know they're in love with each other and Carl hasn't been the same since Ass Bag got married, but if Carl said his ID is lost, then it's lost. It's such a stupid thing to lie about. If he didn't want to hang he'd say so. Maybe they can come over here for a fire pit sit when Ass Bag shows up or he could swing by and pick us up on the way. Carl's pretty gross and immature, but he's a good guy. I've never heard him tell a lie in the nearly ten years i've known him. We'll hang out tonight 'cause he wants it."

I totally defended him all chivarously and believed that A) his license was lost and B) that my dipshit cousin wasn't there yet because he hardly ever shows up anywhere before one in the morning. So i text Ass Bag. Here's how it went:

Me: When the hell are you getting to town?!
AB: Who said i was commin to town
Me: Carl. Is he a liar?
AB: No i made him think that last night maybe but i hav shit to do tomorro
Me: Ok. Well you made him ditch me tonight so thanks.
AB: Glad i could help i guess
Me: You broke his heart. Trust me. You're a monster.
AB: I love me

I stopped texting him then and sent a text to Carl. This is what i sent:

Ass Bag is not coming to town. You've been duped. We're chillin' at my house if you wanna hang.

And THEN my phone rings. It's Ass Bag. I answer, ready to really chew his ass out for ruining my life and destroying all my chances at happiness, "Whaddaya want, dick weed?" But wait. . . what are those garbled voices? . . has he ass dialed me? Why, yes, yes he has. And who's that i hear and background laughing and shrieking like Ned Flanders seeing purple drapes? Carl. Mother. Fucking. Carl.

Yep. So i keep on listening for a few minutes while Carl and his cousin, Derp, and my cousin the ass bag read my texts to each other and laugh like retarded hyenas. Nel keeps trying to get me to hang up and call back but i'm like, "Fuck no. I'd rather know than not know." So she calls Carl and when it starts ringing my phone gets quiet for a sec and then i hear, "Omigod! It's Nellie!" And they all bust out laughing again and he shushes them and answers. I can hear him on my phone and our stupid cousins trying to keep their shit together. Nel straight told him Ass Bag had butt dialed me but i hear Ass Bag getting the word from Carl and he whispers, "Dude! I'm looking at my phone. There's no call!" So Carl proceeds to tell Nel that Ass Bag is not there and he thought he was coming to town and he really did lose his ID and he really wants to hang out and he is in no way a liar. She keeps saying, "The jig is up! I can hear you on two phones right now!"

He wasn't getting it. Totally drunk and probably stoned. Anyway, after their three minute conversation ends with him still insisting he's being nothing but completely honest, Ass Bag's phone is still broadcasting. Then Ass Bag says, "Oh shit, you guys!" And the line goes dead.

He did that on purpose. That Ass Bag was letting me know because it's better to know than not to know. So now i know. At least they all got a good laugh.

TV is causing me an existential crisis

Warning: I'm going to talk about plot lines from Season 2 of Sons of Anarchy so if you plan on watching it, this could piss you off. But i don't care.

So a couple friends of mine got me hooked on Sons of Anarchy. I dug on the beards mostly even though the show has a level of violence that i'm not comfortable with. I like watching Good fight Evil so i just fast forward through things that hurt my soul. Also, the women in the show are strong which is awesome. Correction, the LEAD women on the show are strong; the rest are mainly depicted as pieces of ass or all together insignificant.

Last night i watched the episode where Gemma is gang raped by a group of masked dudes (probably the Aryans). I skipped the graphic shit and moved on to the next episode. I am so disgusted, not only by the fact that everyone goes along with her wish to keep it a secret, but by how Gemma actually says that this only happened because the other club wanted to send a message. Like she's taking one for the team and it's fucking noble or something. I had to stop watching after that because i felt like burning the world to ashes. This whole idea that raping one person to hurt another is a thing FUCKING PISSES ME OFF! Raping a someone for any reason is about the worse thing anyone could ever do and no matter how much it hurts the people who love the victim to know what happened, it will NEVER hurt as much as it does to the person who lived through it. And it never helps anyone to keep silent. Never.

So now i'm stuck. I have a pretty good idea that venegence will be served, but in what form? Retaliation rape? I'm so not down with that. I'll probably continue watching against my own better judgement but be warned, writers, i can find where you live. I won't rape you or your loved ones or your dog, but i am a fan of watching shit burn.