Gang...life can sometimes be tricky.
Life's A LOT like the stock market, ya know...
It's this public sector of trading and communications regarding the future and securities of certain derivatives where at times you want to have hedged your bets on the little guy but their uncertainty can at times be too fluctuating and you go the route of path-most-traveled and laugh with a belly full of contentment after staking your efforts on the safe bet/conglomerate just KNOWING that you're going to get something, ANYTHING, back in reparation for your concentrated effort as opposed to risking your livelihood and well being all for some crazy, irrational dream of your right brain's device slightly winning out over your left brain's ability to rationalize you into well beNO...BUT NO...NO...
That's not right at all...
Life is NOT like the stock market at all.
It just doesn't WORK like that. You can't buy/sell your affections and dreams on so many fiscal ups & downs, metaphorical or otherwise. You can't base your life on potential &or lucrative endowments...if you did that would make you a whore or WORSE CASE SCENARIO a sorority girl, so NO NO NO.
No...life is more like a roller coaster...
Ups and downs and thrills and spills and all during the course of a definitive beginning and ending throughout which we open our imagination to the experience of the wild and unexpecBUT NO no...wait....life IS NOT like a roller coaster.
A roller coaster is a near infallible product of forethought and engineering set on a course MEANT to entertain and engage AND while, yes, it COULD be argued that this is nothing more than how the American system has set our lives up for capitalistic consumption, it is SIMPLY not enough for me to be cynical with the assumption that ALL my highs and lows of life are premeditated by some man with a pull-shift lever marked "Bad Times" or a green GO button marked "Good Times"NO!
No...life is not like a roller coaster at all...
Life is more like the Angelina Jolie movie Life Or Something Like It...
It is so fucking mind numbingly ridiculous that you want to kill everybody involved with the making of the Angelina Jolie movie Life Or Something Like It.
This metaphor is flawless and I don't think anybody could ever dispute it.
I should open up a Metaphors of Life Church, and you could all come to it. I'm going to start the groundbreaking on my 4.1 billion dollar building this fall. I'm only going to hire illegal Mexicans to build the thing because it's going to look like this except $4.1 billion dollars shinier and I'M PRETTY SURE they know how to make one of these things already, so THAT'S going to save TONS on contractor and architect fees so SORRY RECESSION BETTER LUCK NEXT 5-YEARS!
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Gang...the gist is that life is pretty much a crapshoot between "is it going to suck today" or "is it going to suck worse tomorrow". Nobody gets why something like life is good or bad. Why some homeless people are crazy & homeless while other homeless people are pretty cool with good facial bone structure & homeless. There is no booklet written on why things are going to smell, why things are going to get angry, why things are going to turn black after you mix it with a bunch of other colors and why things are the worst economy in 60 years.
That's life and you're just along for the ride in life's pre-owned Honda Civic.
But the thing is that not everything is bad. Some things flourish, even when good people are down. Mind you, not people like me. I'm down. I'm most certainly a person that is down. An intelligent person that doesn't necessarily play life safely, BUT MOST CERTAINLY understands repercussions of poor decisions and acts to avoid such ill-gotten paths who is down.
But don't worry...PLENTY of shitheads are on easy street. And why shouldn't they be...their mom's bought them The Secret. And now look at them. Smiling as they eat their bologna & cheese on Ironkids. Perhaps it's the human condition to try and look at things through rose colored glasses. Perhaps it's a last ditch effort to try and make the best out of a messy situation of which none of us that wish to remain alive can avoid and grin & bear it.
Officially...I say we call Children of Men on this bitch, BUT THAT'S JUST ONE MAN'S OPINION and I'm young and aggressive and full of spite for life and all things delightful.
Here are a few things that, thus far, have not been harmed by the slowing of the economy:
Paul Blart: Mall CopOld news but still news based on the fact that each movie ticket costs approximately 2-HOURS OF MINIMUM WAGE SALARY to afford.
#1 movie in the country for 2-weeks in a row...Fuck You, Americans looking for a laugh and instead life laughing at your poor decision making.
Fat Bitches Getting DOOWN
Fat bitches need to dance and in this economy, with Ramen and white bread as dietary staples, bitch's asses will not get to growing smaller and getting DOOWN is going to be on the agenda exclusively because big bitches need love too.
Fuck You, carbs.
Ignorance
See above Paul Blart news and Las Vegas clubs and Spring Break.
Also...that one robe thing that you wear backwards that my mom keeps forwarding to me as a "HOOT". FUCK THAT GUY MOST.
The queer populace and a queen sized mattress sale
Like the old maxim goes, "Gays are gonna have sex with other gays and they're gonna do it on a mattress sold to them with a shirtless, blond man laying on one in an advertisement on the side of a moving van...or in the filthy alley behind the queer bar." Ancient Chinese proverbLOOK IT UP!
Fuck You, ancient Chinese proverb guy
1998
I think I bought gas for $.89 a gallon that year and my dad bought me a racing horse just so I could shoot it in the head and make glue out of it for my diorama on "How I Haughtily Spent My Grandfather's 401k Reserves On $6 Cups of Latte".
Fuck You, 4 McRib lunches.
Creeps
Luckily, this is not the regular "creeps" that you've become accustomed to during the "good times". You know...the ones with the fedora's and the necklaces outside their v-neck shirts and their v-neck shirts and those necklaces and the silk screen on those v-neck shirts and the rhinestones on top of the silk screen and those necklaces just hanging out there.
Also...that fucking stupid fedora.
No no no...no more of those creeps. They all had to move home after defaulting on their first 8-house flips.
No...these creeps are the original kind.
The kind that stare too long and smell at close range.
The kind that have too few greasy hairs atop their head and too many frizzy hairs popping from the stretched neck of their sweat-yellow tee.
The kind that breathe heavily when they are standing still and breathe heavily when they are eating beef filled sandwiches on white.
Fuck You, flop sweat.
Creeps in sweatpants
See all of the above BUT NOW picture a tiny little penis poking ever so gently through the crotch area of grey sweatpants.
And that man is standing up and eating in front of you.
And staring.
Fuck You, tiny moist little pee stain that shows through like a headlamp in a tunnel through the cotton grey of your leg's comfort.
Creeps in sweatpants in the Post Office
Imagine all of the above BUT NOW he's got to send a bootleg VHS of UFC to his buddy Ricky in Scaggs, SD PRIORITY MAIL!
Also...he's complaining audibly about the slow service the Post Office is offering him and how all the minorities in the Post Office should be rocketshipped to another world full of AIDS and liberals.
Fuck You, a governmental system that tolerates ALL TYPES and won't hire me on as a bounty slayer with final judgement say on decisions regarding life-or-death based on intelligence & tact & social monitoring & hygiene & common sense & human decency & ALL AROUND LIVING LIKE EVERY WEEK WAS SHARK WEEK!!!!
Sweatpants
These are the perfect thing to wear when:
unemployed, staring too long, eating a sandwich, shortening the looks of your penis, being a racist or writing a blog about things that are recession proof.
THIS AIN'T YOU FATHER'S RECESSION, BITCHES!
Fuck You, nothing to do at 11:48am on a Wednesday but be a captious lamebody.
