hey, my name is joe raines (this is intended to be funny so the fml life stuff isnt meant as sad)
heres my problem folks. my problem is that i bitch and moan about the present, without any intent of doing any about it, while romanticizing the past. Even though nothings changed. I have no drive?! No ambitions. No goals. No discipline. Im a lazy pothead who sits around talking about how awesome that nervous breakdown was. "I wore pajamas for 3 months!". I havent changed my life and yet it used to be alot better somehow. How?! I dont know, it wasnt if you want the truth. delusion thy name is pabst blue ribbon. but somehow some way in my head it was alot better. I cant see the forrest thru the trees. My reality is in my head. "What happened man? It wasnt like this before...." YES IT WAS! Its just youre not there anymore. A scar doesnt hurt. So i, we, romanticize events that were awfull because nothing could be as bad as this. the present. "Oh man this spring has been rough. I wish it was last year man." "Joe didnt you get raped last year?" "yeah but he only ripped my asshole a little. I mean, have you seen this 60 dollar federal tax refund check?! Its insulting. I thought itd be atleast 800. You wanna talk about rape. This year sucks."
Im a cynic i guess. Worst case is the case. Like heres a perfect example. My friend and i were bitching about our jobs. yeah all jobs suck but ours is somehow worse and evil and soul stealing because we have bosses or some childish shit like that. So we're going back and forth about what the perfect job would be. Fantasy, where my generation is most comfortable and excels. We arent going to be confused with the 'greatest generation'. Like we couldnt pull ourselves out of a great depression,....but we did invent twitter. So we cant save the world or help the poor but we will let you know about that huge dump we just took. Ricker76 says he'll never eat at taco bell again. completely self involved and notoriety driven. thats us. the what do you mean you didnt read my blog generation. We wont save the world but we'll write about how someone should. with directions ofcourse. we're here to help. But Reid and i are discussing the perfect job. He says female blowjob certifier. Every woman that wants to be able to give blowjobs has to be certified by you. flexible hours, good pay, insurance...the works. I was like heck yeah. But then when i thought about it, i thought no that would be god awfull. Because eventually some woman would be so bad she'd accidentally bite your dick off. men who've experience teethy blowjobs know what im talking about. So, no, fuck that i thought. ok. OK. Thats how fucked up in the head I am. Thats where my brain goes. Getting my dick bitten off. I dont want that job. FEMALE BLOWJOB CERTIFIER. a job where you wake up when you want, get blowjobs all day then go to bed. And it pays! Because maybe somehow just maybe some woman MIGHT just maybe bite my dick off. Thats fucking crazy. Thats not a glass is half empty type person, thats a dont touch that empty glass its probably covered in aids person. No, no, no receiving blowjobs job for me, im gonna play the odds. No, I dont want copious amounts of oral pleasure for pay. Just incase. No i dont want to be president, too much work and someone might shoot at me. No i dont want to be an athlete, too much exercise and you get drug tested and you'll probably blow out a knee. I wanna be in a band but i dont want to spend the time or effort to learn an instrument. and i cant sing. I guess ill be a comedian. Because thats something I love and can do. Ideas. Shaping, molding, rearranging, laughing at, and eventually shitting on. mine, others. it doesnt matter. I dont know the truth and neither do you-- hand me the microphone skippy. and put some hand sanitizer on it; you look diseased.