Monday, February 1, 2010

I Guess That's Why They Call It The Blues

Ciao lovers!

Happy Munday. Are you back in your cubicle flicking boogers at that report you didn't finish on Friday? Have you built up the courage to lace your co-workers coffee with a lil Shug Avery pee because they keep dousing themselves with Jean Nate and it's killing your olfactory receptors? Are you tweeting, facebooking and effing around on social networks on your iPhone instead of answering the phones at your office? Twirling around in your chair, angry because Taylor Swift knocked Boucny off of her throne?

Well good. That's what Monday's are all about. How many times have we heard it? Be grateful for your job, un-employment is at an all time high, you could be shoveling shit for a living (maybe you are). I think the only people that are lucky in the job market are undertakers and morticians. They will never be without a job.

If you are in fact, dear reader at a job you hate, or grateful to have (but secretly hate it anyway) it's okay. It doesn't make you a deplorable filthy ungrateful shit head. It in fact makes you human. We all have so much stuff! And all of this STUFF costs money.

Nothing really makes sense to me anymore. These PDA hand held devices have apps, bells and whistles to show you whatever you need. There are so many APPS to help us get thru life now. We all feel like MacGuyver. Something fucks up? There's an app to fix it! An app to teach you how to make a tourniquet out of tooth picks and a candy wrapper, apps which tell you which movies to go see, apps to save a dying blow fish, apps to teach you to sew in your track that has slipped out of your hair (hmmmph. actually that the app I'm going to invent).

Being a free agent (read: UNEMPLOYED) has been quite liberating and quite scary. Everytime I fill my gas tank, I fear I will have to go inside the gas station and dance for money. And of course you I have a battalion of people to support me, telling me it's temporary and I will "make it." In order to make it you need money. Not money to invest, I'm talking money to get from Culver City to Burbank for an audition. Or Hollywood to Santa Monica for a class. I'm talking GAS MONEY PEOPLE. Simple stuff really. I can't help but to ask: How is one supposed to chase their dreams when every thing is high as giraffe pussy?

I'm not down and out for the count...I've been at this for many years now. I've learned how to eat the rich for the most part. I haven't purchased a packet of sugar in years. 12 years to be exact. I've looted packets of Sugar in the Raw from every Starbucks on the planet. I shop samples at Sephora and Barneys (yes Barneys. The sales people treat you like shit. But here's the trick. Put on big sunglasses and hold your head down a lot. They will assume you're a celebrity avoiding the pappers and will fete you with product. It works trust me. Or they'll think you're trying to shop lift. Either scenario is quite entertaining).

The other crazy thing about unemployment is that my attention span is shit. What was I talking about?? Oh yah, the Grammys. I can honestly say I was UNDERWHELMED.

It was nice to see Eminem back. Lil drippy Drake look like he been eating cheezburgers--don't get me wrong, I'd still do him...but he just looks a lil thick. And Lil Wayne...well, his hair looked great.

What was I talking about? Oh yeah---follow your dreams. Fuck yoga. Fuck integrity. Fuck honesty. Make a sex tape. Sell drugs or rap your way out of poverty. Kick your co-worker behind the knee and get her/his position while they're on sick leave. It's the only way.

Ah I'm just kidding. Follow your path. You can do it! Now go be free fucker.

ciao for now kiddies...

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