Something in her style...

Hello World. Yes, I am still unemployed and love/hating it. I think I'll use that as inspiration in writing a song tonight, lets hope this one turns out really darn good. In other news my ac adapter for my notebook has fallen apart, so I rarely use my own computer anymore, and haven't been blogging as much as I would like to, not that it matters because nobody reads this rubbish anyway.

Sometimes I wish I could make money without having to look for another low pay POS job, but It's just not working. Sure, I could start dealing drugs, but I don't want to end up in prison anytime soon. Yeah, I'm just bored off my ass typing again, fuck. So, what should I type about now. Shit, I dunno. I suppose I could check one of those online dating sites I signed up to and see if there's anyone out there for me. Maybe. My big problem is I'm always too afraid/paranoid to actually message any of the people on those sites, who wants to date/fuck/love a high school dropout with no income?

...

Testicles, That is all.

Another Day, Another Dollar...

... But not for me!

As I celebrate my 1 week anniversary with unemployment in middle America, I think to myself: "What the fuck was I thinking?" Then I remember I wasn't really thinking, I was acting on a whim, which in most cases leads to a short period of really good luck. I hope this pattern follows for now, but I want to break it, so the the good luck period lasts a little longer, or at least long enough to truly feel more comfortable with life.

This brings up some of the positives of 'unemployment'. The fun little extras you get in life by choosing (even if temporarily) the life of the starving artist (I'm technically obese, but I do feel hungry, but there is no food, no money, and a small amount of a certain hallucinogenic substance lying around here somewhere).

Extra Number One!
Sleeping naturally...
Sleep. All too forgotten in the modern world, was once a normal part of life. I've recently rediscovered sleeping. To be more specific: I can sleep when I'm tired, and I wake up refreshed. My body is now following its natural sleep schedule, where I go to bed at 6AM(early, sometimes it's later) and don't awaken until 2 or 3PM. It's refreshing to wake up feeling, well, refreshed!

The Second Best Thing!
Doing whatever the fuck I want!
Yes, I don't work anymore. No more uniforms and bullshit 40 hours a week, so I can finally do things I'd enjoy doing (what's better: my happyness/non-suicidal thoughts or being pissy 24/7 wanting to kill something/someone/oneself) like grow a beard, and try to be serious-ish about my ability to randomly compose music.

Topping it off..
Relaxation!
Yes, I can relax. Sure, make fun of me, criticize me even. I'm unemployed, so what do I do... Relax. I've been working full time for what seems like forever now, and now I'm not. There's a reason people with decent jobs get vacation time/pay. It's necessary! Thats the biggest problem with minimum wage jobs, no free time. You work so hard non-stop you start to become insanely depressed and pissed off at the same time. It's a very deadly mix. But now.. I'm free. Sure, I'm going to need to find another way to make money to support myself, but damn, I needed this vacation.

Ready to move?

So, here I am, my last week in this horrid basement hell, about to move into a room at a friends house. This should be fun, unless you count the fact I feel really awkward about moving in somewhere while I'm unemployed, excuse me, living as a starving artist. I should be able to pay my way, but I can't really, and It's my fault and I accept it as much as I can.

That brings me to the finer points of the article. OMGWTF. Am I ready for this shit!? Is my stuff neat and organized the way it would be in normal circumstances, fuck no. This place is trashed, with odds and ends both mine and others' randomly piled underneath the beer can pile I created when the recycling bag tipped over onto the floor and I was half-asleep and didn't care at that particular moment.

By moving I lose the ability to play my collection of high quality stereophonic (or mono if you're counting the original pressing of "The Beatles Second Album") LPs (or LP's, apparently both are correct according to http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/LP). I will have to hope and pray (to what I don't know, being anti-religious is hard sometimes) that the ad-hoc network I set up at my new place works like it should, or I'll have to 'steal' a router from somebody. There's so much shit and I think I'm overthinking it all and needlessly stressing myself out.

But there are pros to the whole issue. No more near-constant annoyances (my friend Sean, whose place I'm moving out of) and no more random housework assignments that don't fucking matter to me (I pay rent, get off my case fool!... or at least I did pay rent until I quit my job last week on a whim). I'll be able to be a little louder when hanging out with friends, because I will no longer be living with an on-call pediatrician. I will live in the same house as the former stage manager of Emerson, Lake and Palmer. All in all it should be much less stress free (especially after I start making money again and can afford to smoke grass).

Maybe I should try to blog professionally, but about what? I'm not sure. Maybe I could write short stories and articles about random shit. Wait... that's what blogging is. Damn. Oh well, the blog world is so over-saturated now there would be no point to if as far as financial gain is concerned. But it's a nice dream. Maybe my songwriting/composing talents will see some recognition someday. Also a nice dream. Either way, I need to do something with my life, before I turn 20 and become old and decrepit.

Major Fuck-up reporting for duty?

Today was amazing. I woke up at 9AM, early enough to not have to rush to get ready for work. Oh how happy I was, knowing I would have a decent day, working 3 hours during lunch at my happy snappy fast food job, then I'd have a 2.5 hour break until it would be time to work again, same place, but the dinner shift/pre-close. But this was not so....

Instead as I walked out the door at 11AM to get to work a little early (had to be there at 11:30) I noticed something awry. Were my pants unzipped? no. Did the small hole in the crotch of my jeans become noticable.... probably, but I don't care about that, I'm wearing black/blue shorts underneath. Did I forget part of my uniform, maybe a hat or a nametag? Nope. Then what was it?

The Van wasn't there. Lo and behold all ye followers of mammon, the vehicle that I use (not my own, but I've access to it, especially on days when I can't take the bus home because I get off really late at night or whatever it may be) was not there. It had vanished, as someone else was 'taking a ladder somewhere and would be right back'. Well, I called good ol' Barb (The GM of my happy snappy fast food establishment) thru Skypeout (which was badly disconfigured by my own doing, the mic settings are all fuckity) to let her know I would be late. She couldn't really hear me, but she knew I said I'd be late.

Well, it's been 2 hours since I was supposed to clock in, and where am I? At home, chillin' (literally) in the basement listening to music (blaring Metallica... good Metallica. Ride The Lightning, bitches!) waiting for the van and feeling the insecurity of the American financial crises firsthand.... or at least mentally/psychologically. Most of me doesn't give a shit, but It's nice to feel secure sometimes, and I don't know if I do anymore.

Damn it all, damn it all to hell!

Stoned Underground

I live in a basement. I work in fast food. Damn, life is great. Watching "Internet Superstar" on Revision 3. It's the new Infected, which I miss. Sure it's not new, but it's new to me. So, let me smell yo dick..... wow. I gotta go to bed. This is getting weird.

Oh yeah, I had a blogger account...

And I completely forgot about it. So, now I have to catch all my readers up on what has been going on(all 2 of them including myself and the Google search spider). So in the past couple months my computer completely crapped out on me, so now I'm on Maxy-poo's laptop posting random shit out of boredom. Maybe I could have been posting with my Wii... oh well...

Now what?

Well, as awesome as the idea of sharing my ideas with the world was, I've realized my ideas are few and far between. Either that or they're all drug induced and forgotten every 20 seconds. So, what were we talking about?
Maybe I should lay some structure down, about myself. Give the reader (hi) something to connect to me with. Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe I should tell everyone about my awesome day today; about how I went to school and work and hung out with my baby and my best friend for a little bit. Mostly the school, and then the work, and then avoiding my homework, and then I barely spent any time hanging out.
In latest news my mother has contacted my father. I don't believe I've seen him since I was 5-ish. I'm 17 now. Apparently one of the child support forms listed his phone number, so she called him. He's doing fine. He's got 2 other kids, 12 and 8, boy and girl, dark-haired and blonde. Wait a tick... my little bro living here is almost 12 and has dark hair, and my baby sister is 8 and a blonde. That's really creepy. Cool, but creepy. Not much else to say about that now. Maybe my next post will reveal more about me, but now I should do my homework... maybe.