Further proof that gamers, are tards....
Hello once again. It has been awhile since I have graced the intellectual forums of LJ, and of course I use such terms lightly. This event of mythic proportion was brought on by the monolithic stupidity of my fellow man. In general, I haven't been feeling too great as of late, so you will have to forgive my harsh words and complete disregard to the actual spelling of some words. I have felt lethargic, oppressed by my own mind, and generally, blah. I am not sure what has brought on this case of, "kill me now," though I do have a few thoughts on it. First being I am rather peeved about what I have done with myself. I have given into my own laziness, and seemed to have lost much will to actually function. I have tried as of late to fix this, though it would seem I require a dayplanner to do so, because unless I write something down and look at it when I wake up, I don't really accomplish anything. I feel kinda like a jackass. I at least got a shitty job to tide me over for awhile, though the guy took his good sweet time in getting back to me about the position for a job that barely pays six fifty an hour. I had an interview a week ago, and he was suppose to call me back that night, but it took him until the next week to do it, and I still have to wait until later this friday before I can even go in and sign the paperwork just to start working. I find it crazy that a place that keeps putting up signs about how short staffed they are, would even dare to take so long to get back to someone. I still have to wait for a background check. Another place down the road did that as well. They still have the help wanted sign up. I called them almost everyday for several weeks, and I never actually got to talk to the damn idiot that was in charge of hiring. I even went there to see if I could catch him. They still have that sign up there, right under the notice that they have cheap bowling shoes for rent in nice black lettering on a half lit sign. Can a business really be that well off that they are hiring just for kicks, and they don't really call back those that apply? Hell, they have a fucking snack bar, not like I don't have experience doing that menial labor. Seems like I am not trained for anything else. I've worked such a varying array of jobs that apparently I am skilled at many things, but unqualified to scoop shit into the back of trailor on its way off a cliff. Second problem is that I don't think my body is taking well to my meds. I wasn't taking them for awhile, but that was driving jewelldust nuts. I started taking them again, but I was literally going from 0 to 60 miligrams of a drug that turns me from a high octane engine of bundled forgetfullness, into a mellow loose piece of string with a trouble focusing on an item in my field of vision. I find that my sleep is restless, my head hurts, my eyes get blurry, my appetite is gone, my body aches, shit shoots out my ears while I stand on my head every tuesday, and I generally feel like a large tub of lard that keeps getting jumped into by the world's largest diving team. *sighs* My buddy, R, and my dear, S, keep yelling at me to eat. I go to Tia's, lovely food. I am hungry like crazy. I ordered a big meal. A tamale, a enchilada, and a bowl of tortilla soup that ended up being chicken broth with bits of tortilla in it which they tried to pass as tortilla soup. Anyway, my stomach said eat it all. I start eating, ready to shovel this stuff into my gaping orifice, then suddenly five bites in, I'm full. No reason, just full. Blah. Thirdly, the jackasses that I game with, some know I run a LARP V:TM game on campus on thursdays. Well, these guys are really starting to tick me off. The game is there to have fun, tell a cool story, and generally hang out with people we don't see the rest of the week. So what do they do? Bitch, complain, throw rules lawyering in my face, and generally disrespect those that have agreed to try to create a fun game for them, for free. One of my narrators almost literally broke into tears tonight because several people were being so mean to her. Now, some of these people are really great. They are fun to be with, and they make telling the story fun for me, giving me neat and interesting reactions in return for the stories I try to make for them. I am not the greatest of DMs, in fact I think I suck, but some people are at least fun to try for. The rest, just don't seem to get the point. Finally, at home. I loaf. I suppose that is the term. To begrudgingly move about, half-heartedly attempting to maybe do something productive. I will think about doing something, I will have that thing in my mind. I am moving towards it, then I suddenly find myself on the couch or in front of the computer. While most of the time I will attribute this to my own laziness and such, there are other times where I literally do not remember this transition. I feel bad about it really. S, the love of my life, deserves a bit more. I suppose when I realize I am kinda a shit a lot I get more depressed about it, and then end up sleeping even more. Stupid spirals. Its rather early in the morning, and my sleeping schedual is shot, but I do see a form of motivation ahead of me. I won't say there is a new leaf to turn over, but I will say the meat paddy is a bit dry on one side. If I can overhaul a few things, maybe I can actually get myself on track. Granted, I don't want to become another hardass pencil pusher who can turn coal to diamonds between my ass cheeks during the five minute break most jobs think passes as a coffee break, but work is needed here. Even if that is neccissary, I can't give up being a bit of a ditz. I like being humorous on occassion, even if my jokes are only funny to me. At least I can make, S, smile on occassion. That's really all that's important I suppose. I could just stay home all day and think of ways to do that. It would be a worthwhile thing to do with my life. Mmmm.....I suppose I just felt like bitching with a voice that would be heard, whether anyone listened or not. Its better than talking to some of the gamers I see on thursdays where I know that they aren't listening. Kinda odd that a place where you know your shit is gunna get read, even by people you don't know, gives you a bit of peace simply by writing it. I always wondered why, S, wrote in that journal of hers. I suppose the therapy is in the writing, or maybe its just in the fact that I can accept my insanity at this time in the morning. While I do believe all I have written here will not help me in the least, I can at least say that I know what I am going to do with those jackasses at game. If this crud continues, and I have to waste my Thursdays getting upset because they think I am there solely for their entertainment, I am gunna walk. I don't get paid for that job, and I don't get credit for it. None of staff does. So they can bite me and remember in the words of my mighty middle finger, Pointy Rock Always Wins!
-Chairman Mao
P.S. Love ya all, thanks for listening to me bitch, even if it isn't your cup of tea. Oh, and gamers are tards.