Piddle Piss

I've decided that I never want to leave my apartment again. I'm just going to survive on cat turds and transcendental meditation. I've heard that particular combination has effects that are similar to huffing scotch guard.

I have been so pissed lately. I can't even say pissed because that word connotes some kind of high energy transfer. It's more like amped-up apathy. I have no interest in the majority of places, things, or people in this city. I'm not buying that depression shit because I'm not piddly pissing in my pillow every night wondering what went wrong with my life. I'm just straight up bored. Like teenager bored. Like "what-the-hell-are-we-gonna-do-tonight-the-dairy-queen-is-closed-and-cletus-done-got-grounded-from-using-his-granny's-minivan" type bored.

I think it's a mere coincidence that my Dirty Thirty is just over a month away. (wow, this shit gets autosaved as you're typing. nifty!) I finally got a college degree, and now I want more. More college loans! Yay!

I tried all that kill-your-ego, love-everyone, peace-love stuff for a long time. In the end, it left me befuddled as fuck. Or maybe it helped me reconcile the fact that you can't expect everyone to live according to the same systems of belief, and yes, spirituality is a system of belief no matter how open-ended the so-called "gurus" claim it to be. Someone needs to find a way to better enmesh Eastern ideals into the Western clusterfuck. This new age Oprah shit ain't cutting it.

Ok, this isn't just gonna be some place where I moan and bitch all the time. Just mostly bitch. My life goes in five-year cycles. I was digging life on this planet we call the Party Barge, but now, it's time to get shit done. How do I get shit done, you ask? Well, I join the Pissy Party Brigade, and I get motivated to get the hell on out.

You heard?

I love this man.