Welcome to Gaia! ::

On the topic of fixing your life and all that I've got many plans that I need to work on.

1. Leaving SuperStore
2. Getting my lazy a** to start exercising again
3a. Getting a vocal coach to clean my voice which I do have nature talent... I just need it smoothed out, y'know?
3b. Get working on scripts for my shows and start youtubing.

Our old roomate NEVER did dishes. We even had like.. a dish chart set out, and she never got to it. And the catcher, she didn't even have a job or anything to put dishes off with, she just sat in her room playing CoD all the time. ._. Yeah though, she never did 'em. Roomates suck, yo.

Cool. Thanks dude!

I was at work today following my usual schedule when I realized something. Well, first off, for those who are interested, here is my usual schedule on Friday, 9am to 3pm, because my Wednesdays are too insignificant to write about:

9am: I get to work and life seems shitty. There’s coffee in the break room, but I recently decided to start drinking tea instead because I’m worried about my health and sanity. So everyone is enjoying drinking coffee and waking up, while I’m stuck with leaves in a bag and water, falling asleep.

9:10am: I grab both daily papers to the office. One of my duties is to check the papers to see if they talk about us (we’re important, believe it or not), but I also take this time to read local reports and read the funnies.

9:40am: I stare out at the sky and look at anything, from tree leaves blowing to squirrels looking for food. I see how long I can do it before someone notices.

9:42am: Someone notices.

10am: I start doing my work, which can range from working on important documents for my co-workers to checking important government documents that have to do with environmental bullshit to looking for errors in PDF documents to moving stuff to our warehouse to cleaning out my desk.

11am: I’m already bored with my work, so to make it more interesting I put on my headphones and crank up some metal.

12am: I put in another metal CD.

1pm: Most of the co-workers in my area are at lunch, so I take this time to either continue my work or browse TV Tropes for a while until someone comes back, despite the fact that my computer is monitored. I guess whoever’s monitoring my computer is as bored as I am.

2pm: At this point, I don’t give a s**t anymore.

2:30pm: About a half hour before I’m off, my supervisor tells me there’s an important assignment she needs me to do, but then I have to tell her I’m off in 30 minutes. She then gets my co-worker in the cubicle next to me to do it. Fine by me; I don’t really care about advancing far in this place, because being a government stooge isn’t exactly my dream career.

2:50pm: I leave ten minutes early. No one cares because it’s Friday. ******** that song.

That’s just on my Fridays. I get paid $15.88 an hour to do this s**t, with occasional $24/hour overtime. I don’t even bother arguing with people who say government employees are overpaid for what they do, because I am a government employee and I believe I am overpaid; but I don’t b***h about it because, seriously, who would if they were in my position?

Does that make me a sell-out? Probably. After all, anyone who chooses to sit around bored in a cubicle for 4 to 10 hours a day is a sell-out. Anyone who goes to work and wishes they weren’t there is a sell-out. So what does that make musicians who “sell-out?” So they change their sound or try to appeal to the masses. Do they still love to make music? If they do, perhaps they aren’t sell-outs. Or maybe they are and the definition of “sell-out” varies from person to person. Who knows? And in the end, who really cares? What's the point?

Really, who cares about anything? Especially about their image. Why does anyone give a s**t about their image at all? Why should I of all people care? I’m going to admit right now that I ******** blow-up dolls, look at hentai, pirate music, and I’m more than willing to spend money on prostitutes if there were any in Monterey. Why should I care about what that makes me look like? Am I a pervert? Probably, but everyone is on some level. Why do people go out of their way to look otherwise? ******** it, go be lewd. Be a total sexually-rambunctious animal. God said “be fruitful and multiply” anyway, so doing otherwise is against God’s will. Stop being a prude, sinner.

Anyway, I was at work today and I realized something: what is the point? To my job? To my life? To anything? I’m writing part of this in my cellular biology class right now (which I’m sure I’ll need to retake) and my professor is going on about reverse transcriptase from retroviruses and using six or eight-base cutters to do some s**t for the purpose of seeing if E.coli can take on a plasmid. And I’m sitting here typing this while taking notes at the same time and I’m wondering what the hell the point of all this is? Will I really do this in marine biology? Will most of us even work with this crap in 20 years? I just don’t get it. Maybe it’s time I switched majors. I already took marine biology classes. They were totally underwhelming and all I have to show for it is knowing a few Latin words that I can’t translate into English. I think I’m through with marine bio. Maybe I should try computer science? I’d have to review a lot of math, but I can probably deal with that. But then what would I use it for? Programming? Programming what, exactly? We’re back at square-one: what’s the ******** point?

Why do anything ever? Who are you trying to impress? Your boss? Your parents? Your friends? Your lover? Your teacher? ******** them. Why bother trying to impress them? They all think you’re a s**t-eater anyway, so why bother? Go outside, do something with your life. Stop wasting time doing things you don’t want to do. This is your life and it’s ending one minute at a time. Why do I even bother quoting Fight Club? Everybody knows that one line. I wasn’t being original, nor was I being totally serious, so what was the point of that entire spiel?

Why do I even bother writing rants? Everybody knows my writing is totally influenced by Maddox and George Carlin, why do I even bother covering it up? That reminds me of this one time in second grade when I drew a picture of my teacher’s breasts and some a*****e called me out on it and said, “that’s not your own work; our teacher already did that!” Why couldn’t he just leave it alone? ******** him and ******** second grade. I hated my teacher anyway. I don’t even remember much of what I learned in second grade anyway, so what was the ******** point of taking it? What’s the point of going to school anyway? All it does is make people smarter, which leads to technology that saps our planet of valuable resources and ensures the slow but certain modern mass extinction of our time. ******** all this noise, let’s give up school, technology, and go back to living in caves. Oh my God, now my professor is rambling about something I couldn’t care less about. Why do people even get paid to do that s**t? What’s the ******** point?

Why do I play video games, watch Slayers, and listen to Machine Head and Wolves in the Throne Room? Why do I write stupid bullshit about condoms shutting up cashiers, talking to myself, and Fidel Castro liking Egg Nog? What’s the ******** point?

Why do I hate Otep Shamaya? I mean, besides the fact that she’s an obnoxious feminazi lesbian b***h with a stupid name who thinks being a lesbian is shocking when no one really cares. Plus the music her band makes blows a** and she thinks anyone who doesn’t like her music doesn’t like it because she’s a woman, a lesbian, and a feminist, when in fact it’s not because of those things, but because her music just plain blows a**. Occam’s Razor, b***h. Go to hell. And make me a sandwich.

Why did I even go off on that rant, anyway? What’s the point?

Why am I even writing about this? What’s the point?

Here’s a picture of a baby giving the finger:



Why did I even post that? What’s the point?

I guess there isn’t much point to life. Or maybe there is, but I just can’t figure it out. What do you guys think? Drop me a reply, email, whatever, and share your thoughts on what the point of anything is.

Or better yet, don’t. After all, what’s the ******** point?

So yeah you all know how I'm pretty much working on becoming a YouTube celebrity. Well my dad thinks I should stick with my current job that even though I make great money it's just not what I want to do with my life getting partnered on YouTube would make my whole life get better. Really first and foremost I'd be doing something that would actually be cool to tell people when asked where I work (cause honestly saying I make movies on YouTube for a living is a hell of a lot cooler than being a Full time produce clerk at Stupid Store). On top of that I could potentially make more money than I do now which honestly I'd take making less to do something I love over making more at a dead end job where you have a skin head ******** for a boss who thinks you are a slacker if you're not going mach speed for 8 1/2 hours without taking any breaks.

I'm gonna club his head into pulp.......

That's a good idea then I'd be making lots of cash.