Monday, August 25, 2008

A Rare Serious Thought

FWIW, one of the most powerful and inspiring moments one has in their life is the realization that despite what one has gone through in their past, and perhaps how much they have previously let their own history define them, the only constant variable which can determine their future is themselves. We all have our demons, and I don't care to describe my own in full detail here, but they exist in part due to our natural inability to fully let them go. As painful as they usually are, they helped create the form we appear in today, and subconsciously humans have a very hard time erasing the "bad".

A guy I know through work, usually a semi-annoying douchetard who seems more capable of wielding half-assed stories about drinking and debauchery as opposed to fulfilling the duties of his actual job (which admittedly are not particularly vast; he's a sales guy like me). During a rare "tender" moment, semi-annoying douchetard let down his douche-guard and mentioned, in surprisingly vivid detail and in a very frank manner, that he was previously married and has a six year old son which is ex-wife has full custody of. The jist of his story; he fucked up, and lost his kid and the love of his life because of it.

Without going on and on over the specs in this case, his "fucking up" was very much along the lines of most young, married guys fucking up, and the fact someone as generally cocky and...um...(can't use the d-word again...shit help me here)...(fuck)..."douchetastic" as him can openly admit that to someone he only casually knows through work is pretty impressive. More importantly, it shows how heavily this weighs on him, and it's obvious that for perhaps the rest of his life, I was informed of what is his own individual cross to bear.

Not having experienced anything like that myself, I was unsurprisingly at the proverbial loss of words, and more than likely emitted a series of stuttering sounds in yet another glowing display of my unparalled intelligence. The point of this however, is that this example, including many others I've experienced over time, is to again illustrate we all have our "shit" we internally battle ourselves over, and quite often pick unhealthy (though usually not life-endangering by any means) and just fucking stupid ways to overcome them. The sales guy I know through work in this particular example became even more of a "frat boy alcoholic who happens to get a paycheck" to combat the one or two nights years before where a nicer, calmer version of him acted this way and essentially ruined that life he was previously living thanks to a couple of mistakes that this behavior helped create.

Lord knows I still have my "shit" hanging over me, but I hit the point fairly recently where at least I realized from this point on, letting history dictate my every move and using that as a crutch for future failures is not only retarded, but would serve as a general disservice to everyone in my life whom I either failed, or to those who I potentially could in the future. Your own mind, body and soul come first, but if for some reason that's not enough, think of the loved ones who you could possibly drag down with you. If that fails to provide enough motivation to at least help change the course, then you're in deeper than you thought.


Wednesday, August 20, 2008

What Medal Count?

I've noticed I'm not really giving a shit about the Olympics. Does this make me a bad person?

Oh, and I have caught bits and pieces of it...enough in fact, that if one more assfuck on NBC refers to the fucking smog in Beijing (which everyone knows pollution-wise, makes LA look as clear and pristine as the top of Mt Everest) as "fog", I'm going to commit a hate crime.

Sunday, August 3, 2008

It's Okay to OD in BC

So I took a quick jaunt up to Vancouver Saturday night...

Sweet, holy motherfucking Christ.

In short, I didn't drink/smoke all that much (I drove up there and had to drive occasionally throughout the night), however everyone else around me sure did. The friend I was visiting was already half in the bag by the time I passed border patrol so he was utterly fucking useless as this was a strange city to me.

Nevertheless, I followed him around on a tour of complete mayhem that lasted well into the morning hours. Some highlights include; an Asian man in his mid-30's threatening to kick my ass if I didn't drop acid with him, three giggling girls who barely looked 18 following me around for the better part of an hour asking for my autograph (I couldn't even figure out what celebrity they were mistaking me for), a few different "clothes optional" after-parties, and me helping my friend's now-unconscious female roommate up the stairs and into her bedroom, and then immediately tripping and falling down the stairs myself (while actually more sober than anything).

All in all, an okay Saturday night.