Wow. What a harsh way to begin. Let me preempt what you're about to read by saying that I have no purpose what-so-ever in writing this. Well, I take that back. The purpose is just too long and drawn out to get into just yet. Maybe I'll slip in some real in-depth tidbits from blog to blog so that in a year from now the people who wasted their precious time meticulously following my nonsensical ramblings can realize some deep previously unknown truism about me (or steal the Declaration of Independence). Super Mega points to me for still being able to make it look like I paid attention in A.P. English.
That's one thing I will talk about.
I'm getting dumber.
It's one thing to be dumb. But it's something else entirely when you once felt somewhat educated, but now you find yourself at a loss for words when the younger fresher version of you would have . . .I don't know. . .said something. I could go back to school, with the loads of extra time I have here in Sarcasm Land. Which brings me to my next point. . .
"I'm----pretty tired." -Tom Hanks (Forrest Gump)
I am just that. Pretty tired. But not just pretty tired, very pretty tired. And not just right now, but almost all the time. I'm sure this is in part due to my excessive internet usage at peak sleeping times.
And sharing the Tired Trophy is my 50+hour a week job. Working at Rent-A-Center has taught me many things. Most notably would be an extreme amount of empathy for debt collectors. Tomorrow I will spend all day calling people without money so that I can ask them for money they don't have. My, how the tables have turned. . .What I refuse to do however, is spend my time complaining about what is essentially a good thing. The last thing we all need is for an underprivileged member of our world getting access to the internet for the first time and stumbling upon my blog and hear me bitching about my big fat happy job-having life. I guess the moral of this paragraph is this: Having a job is a lot like not having a job, you spend all of your time wishing for the opposite.
In closing I just want to say, I typed this entire blog without the 's' key. I broke it last week trying to clean a very unfortunately placed pistachio shell. Now my only key to the letter 's' is a tiny naked rubber nipple. It's kinda hot if you think about it. ssssssssssssssss.
If you've made it this far then you most likely did NOT have anything better to do. I know I sure didn't.
Good Night and Good Luck. (George Clooney)
