Miserable
Wretched Pile of Festering Poo
February 3, 2002
You know what? Life sucks. Life sucks, and I mean that in a "Why
bother caring" kind of way, not in a "I hate myself and
I want to die" kind of way. Life really is a pile of rat droppings,
but whining and complaining about it isn't going to improve your
situation. Prozac isn't going to change your life, it'll just make
you happy; you'll still be a loser. You'll be a happy medicated
loser. That's no way to live.
Life sucks, and there is nothing we can do to change that, so why
bother being bitchy and whining about it? Just accept it and move
on. No matter how miserable you think you are, I guarun-damn-tee
there is someone out there who has it worse than you. No matter
how low your self-esteem is, no matter how fat your ass is, and
no matter how many social diseases you have...there is someone out
there who has it worse than you.
The trick is to find something you like. Life will continue to suck,
you can't change that...but you can at least get your mind off of
what it is that is bugging you. Politicians will still lie, interns
will still commit adultery, AOL will still mail you free coasters,
and Jay Leno will still make a ton of money despite his obvious
lack of talent. You can't change those things, but you can get your
mind off of them for a short time. Get a hobby, rent a Jackie Chan
movie, go feed squirrels in the park, call a friend and talk about
the time you both went to see Jimmy Buffet, watch Monty Python skits...do
something, don't just sit there and sulk. What fucking good is sulking
going to do? You sound like an asshole!
Today I was at the post office picking up mail, which, ironically,
consisted of an AOL CD and several credit card applications. I'm
paying for a private PO BOX and all I get is junk mail...I swear
I should be able to murder these people, just on principle. I should
at least be able to send AOL the bill for my PO BOX. As I was leaving,
I saw a homeless dude. Actually, I'm not certain he was homeless,
he may have just been a very dirty, disheveled, wrinkled, and creepy
old man. I think it's a safe bet to assume the dude had no home,
so going forward I'll just refer to him as Homeless Dude. While
Homeless Dude is rummaging through some mail, probably not his,
I saw him take off his shoe and put it up on the counter he was
standing next to. This action did not seem unusual to me, and that
makes me think that I am the insane one and Homeless Dude is perfectly
normal. That's not the point, though.
So Homeless Dude reaches into his shoe and pulls out something...what
he pulled out, I did not see. Whatever it was, he put it in his
mouth and ATE IT.
The point to all this: No matter how fucked up you think your life
is, no matter how far in debt you are, and no matter how much money
you lost in the stock market...you have nothing to complain about
until you start eating the rot grubs you find in your shoes. We
all have bills to pay, and we all have relatives that are retarded...but
not a single one of us has any right to feel sorry for ourselves
until you've eaten a parasite you've found on your body.
So grab your keys, get in your 2002 Mercedes SUV, drive to the park
and feed some ducks. You'll feel much better about yourself...and
the ducks will appreciate it as well. If you happen to see a very
dirty, disheveled, wrinkled, and creepy old man there at the park...tell
him I said, "Hey" and then slowly back away from him.
He might be hungry.
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