i'm pretty sure this could support a small nicaraguan family for a month.
so, i'm a real prick about keeping shit in my pockets. i accumulate massive amounts of crap throughout the day, papers, money, change, dirt, gravel, genitals, chap stick, invoices, keys, gum, lists, phone #'s, receipts, this n that, etc. and the next day before i head out the door i take all my shit out of the pockets of the pants i was wearing the previous day and put them into my fresh new pockets. it's really not as bad a system as it sounds, but every once in a while i have to take a few minutes and sort through it and throw away the shit i don't need anymore and file away the shit i do (read: give it to mister pile-o-crap on my desk who's mass is surpassed only by its uselessness.)
i've been so fucking busy and spun out lately that i haven't been tending to my pocket swaps that well. i can go a long way without knowing where my wallet and crap is because it seems like BofA gave me like, between sixty and seventy ATM cards so i leave them everywhere (read: ROB ME) and with certain people i trust so i can always withdraw cash or bum a benjy off of someone and get them back fairly quickly without ever really needing to find my wallet.
so anyway, i was doing some laundry and checking all my pockets before i put them in the washer and in just ONE fucking load of laundry i had amassed a gigantic pile of shit on the counter. i'm not even going to bother fucking with all the paperwork and receipts and other misc. bullshit, but i started putting together all the cash and it came up to 246 dollars that i didn't even know i had.
yay, cool, woo, whatever. that was the initial point of this useless post.
while writing, i kind of had one of those moments of realization. nothing really heavy, but i was thinking "okay, i have plenty of money in the bank (plenty is a relative term. more on this later.), i paid my rent early, none of my other bills are due for a few weeks and i have a huge check coming this week before i fly up to portland for a 5 day mini-vacation, oh and here is 246 that i could've easily lost in the couch and it wouldn't have been a factor so long as i didn't know about it.
okay, so that probably doesn't mean dick to anyone else reading this, but i happen to remember quite a few extended periods in my life (read: ALL OF IT) where i was seriously fucking broke. we were always super poor when i was a kid, but aside from that, since i've been on my own i've gone years living paycheck to paycheck to unemployment check to living out of my ash tray to doing the fast food 99 cent shuffle (that's where u live off the one 99 cent special from each fast food chain to get maximum nutrition and variety from the least change) to sleeping in my volkswagen, to begging for change in three different languages all over europe to crashing on couches to shelving my dignity and participating in this ghetto home depot scam this ultra creepy old mexican pervert guy that lived in my complex cooked up for 10 bucks a pop to selling drugs to stealing to pawning my guitars to pawning OTHER people's guitars without them knowing it to working the "you buy, i fly" deal to picking fucking blueberries to, well, pretty much everything.
don't get me wrong. i'm not mad about it. it's part of who i am. there's a lot of wack shit that i bypassed because of it. it was always hard to get around to worrying about you people's trendy fucking bullshit and drama in this scene or that or going out trying to "nail chicks, bro" at the ridiculous fucking clubs in ridiculous fucking vehicles wearing ridiculous fucking clothes trying to impress ridiculous fucking people by appearing to be equally fucking ridiculous while i was fending off actual and quite real mal-fucking-nutrition. and i never had a mommy or daddy to buy me a car, send me to school, co-sign on a loan or move back in with when things got rough like a lot of people do. sure there have been people who i could've "landed on" here and there for food, gas money, place to crash, etc. but it was always a matter of pride so it just didn't fucking happen.
"oh poor baby..."
i know, i know, there are starving people in africa, but just for now, just this once, fuck them and fuck you too because guess what:
this isn't africa and i'm not danny fucking glover.
this is supposed to be america, and southern california at that. the "mecca of materialism". (i made that up.) the place that every poor person on the planet wishes their mother would have plopped her ass down and shat them out at. look around. people driving ridiculously priced cars and worrying about rims and dvd players and towing forty five fucking sea-doos to "the river" for a 4 day weekend of wife swapping or whatever the fuck it is you people are always doing out there (you know it's way hotter there than even here, right?) there's people dropping all kinds of dough on all kinds of retarded shit that is of absolutely NO fucking use to them at all. and there i was, by most indications, a very bright young man pulling at the edges of the fucked up carpet kit lining in my barely running '61 volkswagen looking for enough pennies so i could get a fucking famous star for the fifth fucking time in five fucking days. it never made any sense to me. even to this day there's an incredible amount of douche-baggery i see and can't help but think, "wait a minute. i know that guy. he's _basically_ retarded and that's like a 40 thousand dollar truck. what am i doing wrong?"
i don't know. maybe all you people are in debt up to your assholes. if that's the case i'll stop whining, but i suspect some of it has to do with mommy and daddy giving you a little hand here and there or just outright cash. some people just get hooked up at random by knowing the right people or being in the right place at the right time. i won't call it all "luck", but i'm inclined to be suspicious.
also, don't get me wrong here. i am in NO way trying to say that i am somehow "well off" or "wealthy" or anything so perfect as that. ask anybody and they'll tell you i'm a loser, but they'll mean it in the best possible way. and if you ask me, i'll tell you that all i own of any value at all are guitars, a gun and this computer, but those are NOT my most prized possessions. my only furniture (desk, bed, couch) is either hand-made by myself or was kicked to me as a hand-me-down and pretty much sucks.
anyways. i lost my train of thought and i gotta go to bed so i can sweat nuts tomorrow at work on my birthday. i don't care if you enjoyed reading this or not, but judging by the way a quick little post about finding money while doing my laundry turned into this big angry rant from the bottom of my soul, i'm guessing i probably have more to say on the matter or just revise this stupid text even if it's just for me.
fuck you and good night.
i've been so fucking busy and spun out lately that i haven't been tending to my pocket swaps that well. i can go a long way without knowing where my wallet and crap is because it seems like BofA gave me like, between sixty and seventy ATM cards so i leave them everywhere (read: ROB ME) and with certain people i trust so i can always withdraw cash or bum a benjy off of someone and get them back fairly quickly without ever really needing to find my wallet.
so anyway, i was doing some laundry and checking all my pockets before i put them in the washer and in just ONE fucking load of laundry i had amassed a gigantic pile of shit on the counter. i'm not even going to bother fucking with all the paperwork and receipts and other misc. bullshit, but i started putting together all the cash and it came up to 246 dollars that i didn't even know i had.
yay, cool, woo, whatever. that was the initial point of this useless post.
while writing, i kind of had one of those moments of realization. nothing really heavy, but i was thinking "okay, i have plenty of money in the bank (plenty is a relative term. more on this later.), i paid my rent early, none of my other bills are due for a few weeks and i have a huge check coming this week before i fly up to portland for a 5 day mini-vacation, oh and here is 246 that i could've easily lost in the couch and it wouldn't have been a factor so long as i didn't know about it.
okay, so that probably doesn't mean dick to anyone else reading this, but i happen to remember quite a few extended periods in my life (read: ALL OF IT) where i was seriously fucking broke. we were always super poor when i was a kid, but aside from that, since i've been on my own i've gone years living paycheck to paycheck to unemployment check to living out of my ash tray to doing the fast food 99 cent shuffle (that's where u live off the one 99 cent special from each fast food chain to get maximum nutrition and variety from the least change) to sleeping in my volkswagen, to begging for change in three different languages all over europe to crashing on couches to shelving my dignity and participating in this ghetto home depot scam this ultra creepy old mexican pervert guy that lived in my complex cooked up for 10 bucks a pop to selling drugs to stealing to pawning my guitars to pawning OTHER people's guitars without them knowing it to working the "you buy, i fly" deal to picking fucking blueberries to, well, pretty much everything.
don't get me wrong. i'm not mad about it. it's part of who i am. there's a lot of wack shit that i bypassed because of it. it was always hard to get around to worrying about you people's trendy fucking bullshit and drama in this scene or that or going out trying to "nail chicks, bro" at the ridiculous fucking clubs in ridiculous fucking vehicles wearing ridiculous fucking clothes trying to impress ridiculous fucking people by appearing to be equally fucking ridiculous while i was fending off actual and quite real mal-fucking-nutrition. and i never had a mommy or daddy to buy me a car, send me to school, co-sign on a loan or move back in with when things got rough like a lot of people do. sure there have been people who i could've "landed on" here and there for food, gas money, place to crash, etc. but it was always a matter of pride so it just didn't fucking happen.
"oh poor baby..."
i know, i know, there are starving people in africa, but just for now, just this once, fuck them and fuck you too because guess what:
this isn't africa and i'm not danny fucking glover.
this is supposed to be america, and southern california at that. the "mecca of materialism". (i made that up.) the place that every poor person on the planet wishes their mother would have plopped her ass down and shat them out at. look around. people driving ridiculously priced cars and worrying about rims and dvd players and towing forty five fucking sea-doos to "the river" for a 4 day weekend of wife swapping or whatever the fuck it is you people are always doing out there (you know it's way hotter there than even here, right?) there's people dropping all kinds of dough on all kinds of retarded shit that is of absolutely NO fucking use to them at all. and there i was, by most indications, a very bright young man pulling at the edges of the fucked up carpet kit lining in my barely running '61 volkswagen looking for enough pennies so i could get a fucking famous star for the fifth fucking time in five fucking days. it never made any sense to me. even to this day there's an incredible amount of douche-baggery i see and can't help but think, "wait a minute. i know that guy. he's _basically_ retarded and that's like a 40 thousand dollar truck. what am i doing wrong?"
i don't know. maybe all you people are in debt up to your assholes. if that's the case i'll stop whining, but i suspect some of it has to do with mommy and daddy giving you a little hand here and there or just outright cash. some people just get hooked up at random by knowing the right people or being in the right place at the right time. i won't call it all "luck", but i'm inclined to be suspicious.
also, don't get me wrong here. i am in NO way trying to say that i am somehow "well off" or "wealthy" or anything so perfect as that. ask anybody and they'll tell you i'm a loser, but they'll mean it in the best possible way. and if you ask me, i'll tell you that all i own of any value at all are guitars, a gun and this computer, but those are NOT my most prized possessions. my only furniture (desk, bed, couch) is either hand-made by myself or was kicked to me as a hand-me-down and pretty much sucks.
anyways. i lost my train of thought and i gotta go to bed so i can sweat nuts tomorrow at work on my birthday. i don't care if you enjoyed reading this or not, but judging by the way a quick little post about finding money while doing my laundry turned into this big angry rant from the bottom of my soul, i'm guessing i probably have more to say on the matter or just revise this stupid text even if it's just for me.
fuck you and good night.