(no subject)
I'm just a simple man, I admit. I've proved mathematically that I am a philistine and last night I had a discussion with Vanessa over why I am skeptical over people who help the homeless:
"Why do you have a problem with the homeless?"
"Certainly they are homeless for a reason."
"This isn't about..."
"No, I'm joking."
"Okay, so what if my friend wants to help them? I don't get it."
"I'm weary of people--my age--who help the homeless."
"That makes no sense."
"I think it's a mostly phony gesture."
"They aren't bragging about it!"
"But I imagine if somebody found out that if they were helping the homeless they'd brag about it. Indirectly. 'Oh, you heard about that? Yeah, it's nothing. I only do it a couple of hours a week. No big deal. Some of those guys are pretty cool.' You know, feigning modesty and all that."
"Some of them are Hurricanne victims,"
"Maybe that's how God wanted them!"
"You don't even believe in God!"
"Do I?"
"You're ridiculous."
After calculating the totals, it turns out that I spend more time contemplating what a good and righteous person I am than in doing charitable deeds. These results are almost as stunning as the revelation that I spend more time talking shit than taking 'em (the exact numbers are off slightly, however, since mom served homemade enchiladas last night). Facing these conclusions sends me into an existential peril that only a cleverly planned suprise party and/or 60 page (at least) zine about the wonders of my virtues and good looks can cure*. I now consider myself semi-retired from a fake sport--ultimate frisbee--citing lack of fun and overall lame-ass atmosphere since the '06 season has begun. Others will insist that my beliefs in all the other players hating me and not respecting me as a player/human being are unfounded but to that I call hogwash! Clearly, were I respected I'd be...well, I'd be having some goddamned fun. Not to worry, however, as I have found an entirely new sport in which I always win: COMPLAINING.
Watch how good I am: Oh my GODDD! Check out this crap: So far I have posted 837 entries on Livejournal and received a total of 2,840 comments, with an average of 3 per entry. Meanwhile, resident golden child (meant without irony)
notmemyself
has written 571 entries and received 4,476 comments with an average of around 8 comments per entry. The only comforting news is that
heyisleep gets about 1.5 comments per entry which doesn't make any sense. Now if my lack of comments isn't infuriating enou....
...What's that mom? No, today's bad. Because I don't feel like getting a job. Fine. What? Mail? You mean my...last birthday present finally came!? Oh, let's see what it is!
YAY! EVERYTHING IS OKAY! WHAT A FINE SUMMER I AM HAVING!
Until tomorrow.
Alex
*Ask in private for my address.
"Why do you have a problem with the homeless?"
"Certainly they are homeless for a reason."
"This isn't about..."
"No, I'm joking."
"Okay, so what if my friend wants to help them? I don't get it."
"I'm weary of people--my age--who help the homeless."
"That makes no sense."
"I think it's a mostly phony gesture."
"They aren't bragging about it!"
"But I imagine if somebody found out that if they were helping the homeless they'd brag about it. Indirectly. 'Oh, you heard about that? Yeah, it's nothing. I only do it a couple of hours a week. No big deal. Some of those guys are pretty cool.' You know, feigning modesty and all that."
"Some of them are Hurricanne victims,"
"Maybe that's how God wanted them!"
"You don't even believe in God!"
"Do I?"
"You're ridiculous."
After calculating the totals, it turns out that I spend more time contemplating what a good and righteous person I am than in doing charitable deeds. These results are almost as stunning as the revelation that I spend more time talking shit than taking 'em (the exact numbers are off slightly, however, since mom served homemade enchiladas last night). Facing these conclusions sends me into an existential peril that only a cleverly planned suprise party and/or 60 page (at least) zine about the wonders of my virtues and good looks can cure*. I now consider myself semi-retired from a fake sport--ultimate frisbee--citing lack of fun and overall lame-ass atmosphere since the '06 season has begun. Others will insist that my beliefs in all the other players hating me and not respecting me as a player/human being are unfounded but to that I call hogwash! Clearly, were I respected I'd be...well, I'd be having some goddamned fun. Not to worry, however, as I have found an entirely new sport in which I always win: COMPLAINING.
Watch how good I am: Oh my GODDD! Check out this crap: So far I have posted 837 entries on Livejournal and received a total of 2,840 comments, with an average of 3 per entry. Meanwhile, resident golden child (meant without irony)
notmemyself
has written 571 entries and received 4,476 comments with an average of around 8 comments per entry. The only comforting news is that
heyisleep gets about 1.5 comments per entry which doesn't make any sense. Now if my lack of comments isn't infuriating enou....
...What's that mom? No, today's bad. Because I don't feel like getting a job. Fine. What? Mail? You mean my...last birthday present finally came!? Oh, let's see what it is!
YAY! EVERYTHING IS OKAY! WHAT A FINE SUMMER I AM HAVING!
Until tomorrow.
Alex
*Ask in private for my address.