I Started Working, I Moved To Virginia, My Leg Is Going To Fall Off. I'm Going To Try Blogging Again

It's been a little more than 3 weeks since my last blog post and these are my sins. Just kidding. We all know I don't believe in that hocus pocus, hodge-podge, religious bullshit. My goodness it feels great to start writing again. I'm sorry to all my devoted readers who would spend countless hours reading up on the things that piss me off. Or to the other reader who just wants something to waste their time. But I promise to write more on schedule than usual, it's just that I was structuring my life for the past few weeks to see what would be expected of me. It turns out that I don't have to give up writing politically incorrect blog posts, but I wouldn't have anyway. So onto my current life.

I started working on August 1. It's a decent sized company with mostly all dudes. And no that's not what I prefer. But sometimes you've got to roll with the punches. As for a typical day...I wake up every morning at 7:10. I proceed to bathe myself to get myself invigorated. I eat breakfast at roughly 7:30-7:35. I get to work at 7:50. And then I cold call people from 8-12, when I go out for lunch. I get back at 1 and cold call from 1-5:30. I get home around 6 and lay in bed and watch television until I go to sleep at 11. That's my life in a nut shell. I wake up to work and then get home and go to sleep. Cool.

Many times throughout the course of my life, people have said to me, "If you find a job that you love doing, you'll never work a day in your life." Fuck you asshole. You can love what you're doing, but it's still work. What kind of idiot do you have to be? And don't tell me not to take things so literally. That's the only way to take things. I'm a man. I don't beat around the bush. I don't play games. I speak my mind and that's all. Take it or leave it. But aside from that I love my job. I know cold calling seems like it's the worst thing to do in the history of the world, but the environment I work in is incredible. Everybody is incredibly nice. The atmosphere is very relaxed, despite the fact that people are cranking out phone calls all day. I couldn't fit in a more reasonable place.

Enough with work. So I moved to Virginia. I found a room for rent on Craigslist, looked at it, loved it, and moved in. One roommate is clean, one is straight-up German, and the other is Chinese. I pretty much live with the United Nations. Unfortunately, the German and Chinese guys are moving out and soon I'll have new roommates. And you never know what kind of freaks are going to come marching through that door. So I'm making it a point to see them first. They need to like sports, girls, beer, and potpourri. If they don't meet all of those criteria, I'm afraid I'm going to have to say "No." Liberals.

This past weekend I went to a cabin in West Virginia. I had a reunion with a whole bunch of people that I hadn't seen since graduation. It was a really great time. It consisted of a pig roast and gallons and gallons of beer. From the moment I got there to the moment I left, somebody was drinking. If that isn't dedication to a good time, I don't know what is. The first three weeks here have left my salivating anticipating the next weekend because I don't know what's going to happen. And before I forget. I got bit by a spider on Saturday. It was the most itchy experience of my entire life. Today, Tuesday, it has turned a nice shade of purple. I'm not one to care about anything, but good lordie I needed to get this shit checked out.

I go to an urgent care center and the doctor takes a look at my leg. He tells me there's nothing to be concerned with, for now, because the bite is only superficial. If it busts open, then it's time for panic mode. That's when infection can make its way in and my leg can get severed. Thanks, doc. I wasn't at all nervous or skeptical before you had told me that and I definitely have no reason to now. Idiot. So here's to hoping that I have my leg next week or the week after or however long it takes for the poison to travel. This will be my payback for being perfect.

I saw my old roomie who joined the Peace Corps in Ethiopia. He's doing well. I miss him. I saw Brian, Melissa, Jonny, Russ, Parker, and more this weekend, too. You don't know how much you truly miss something until it's gone. And that holds true to everything in life. Take this blog for instance. When all of you goobers came clicking around for it and saw that I hadn't updated for what seemed like eternity, you probably thought I retired it. Wrong. I'll never retire it until I turn 25 or something. Because I still have way toooooo many reasons to tell you that "I am better than you."

What Do You Want To Be When You Grow Up? I Wanted To Pump Gas

It's amazing at how much your imagination wanders when you're a little shit. Almost like you feel anything is possibleeeeeee (Kevin Garnett - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zyjOy7fRzs0). My mom would always tell me "Dream big Mike". I'm lying. She never told me that. But still, you feel like the world is your oyster and with it you can do anything. See when I was growing up I had a lot of dreams of what I wanted to be when I was an adult. Actually, my first dream job was to be a gas pumper. For those of you not from New Jersey or Oregon, these are the people who fill up your tank when you're at the gas station. They always had this huge wad of cash with them and I thought they got to keep it. Lo and behold, that money isn't theirs. Dream crushed.

After I figured that out at the age of 18, I needed some new dreams and new ambitions. Another one of my dream jobs was to be a detective. When I was in grammar school, our library had 100 books. 12 of those books happened to be Encyclopedia Brown books. By far the most kickass detective in the history of storytelling and real life. He makes Robert Downey Jr.'s interpretation of Sherlock Holmes look like a shit-stained pair of tighty whiteys. That's a very disgusting image. But that led me wanting to be the first Almanac Gray. Never happened. Dream crushed.

I became an advocate of one the best sitcoms written during the last 10 years. Scrubs, a simple concept of a show that exhibited the highlights and lowlights of being a medical doctor. On one hand, you meet all these great people who inspire you and make you strive to be a better person. And then on the other, you meet some people content with calling it a life. Like almost all jobs, it has it's ups-and-downs, but something I wanted to pursue. Turns out you have to major in science or some shit and then go to graduate school and then do a residency at a hospital or something. $300,000 later you are now a doctor. Dream crushed.

Lately, I got into Californication. An excuse for a show that showcases attractive women with their tops off. I really like the show. The main character is an asshole, has sex with beautiful women, tussles with his baby mama, and drinks all his sorrows away. Now I want to be a writer. Do I have the qualifications? A degree in Communication Studies doesn't sound like it. Am I a decent writer? You would have to be the judge of that. I find this blog to be moderately offensive and garbled with a bunch of meaningless text. But if you are reading it, it must not be so terrible. Becoming an author takes a lot of time, talent, and luck. None of which I have. Dream crushed.

So what is it that I want to be when I grow up? I have no fucking idea. As I sit typing away in my bed, I think about what it is that will truly make me happy. But no time spent is enough to give me an answer. I don't know what makes me happy anymore. I don't know what it is that I want to do with the rest of my life. I know for sure what I don't want to do. And that's live in New Jersey for all of eternity. I'm thinking of inventing a t-shirt with a built-in fan. Or an air conditioner that can fit inside my pillow to ensure that it is always cold. Either way, growing up sucks. At least I know that, "I am better than you."

What If I Told You There Was Nothing Worse Than Hearing About Potential?

Throughout my time conquering life and becoming the greatest human to ever be conceived, I've been told a lot of things about myself. People have told me that I should be a lawyer because I have a tendency to get into arguments with people. Or a doctor because my memory is of an elite status. Or a comedian because sometimes my jokes are of the highest caliber. When realistically, I'm not Jewish, so I can't get into law. I don't have enough money to afford medical school and I probably couldn't handle all the studying. And let's be really honest. I'm not that funny. But what do all these things have in common? I could potentially have done all of them.

Potential is the most overused, overstated word in the entire English vocabulary. Everybody has the potential to do anything they want. And our stupid parents encourage such thinking by saying, "Go ahead hunny, you can be the best model in the whole world!" Your daughter has moles on her face and is about 100 lbs. overweight. She can not and will not be a model. Do not lie to her face and tell her that she is going to be a model. All our dumb parents do is give us false hope that we can do anything we set our mind to.

And these dumb ass celebrities and professional athletes who are supposed to be role models embedding into our brains that if you dream it you can achieve it. Please stop with this mumbo-jumbo bullshit. I'm at an age in my life where I realize my friends and acquaintances can do some things, but not anything. I am an exception to this because I am fully capable of all things. Like making you come back on a daily basis to continue reading this bullshit. But seriously, take a look at yourself and ask if you are doing what you intended to do in your life. Probably not.

The worst part about all of it is the phrase 'what if'. What if I was four inches taller and 50 lbs. heavier? What if Obama wasn't President? What if the Mets finally won the World Series? What if, what if , what if. But I'm not that tall or heavy. Obama is the President. The Mets will never win the World Series again. Stop living your life based on the phrase what if. It doesn't mean anything. Potential and what if go hand-in-hand because they are both bullshit. Stop being such a huge pussy and just do it. (Nike)

What if I asked that pretty girl out? She would have said no because your wearing sneakers from K-Mart and there are boogers on your WWF t-shirt. What if can relate to almost anything and everything. Yet it never seems to change, no matter the context. And stop saying that the glass is half-full. The glass is half-empty. Why the fuck would you ever say my glass is half-full of water or apple juice or some other cool drink. When you have half a tank of gas are you closer to being empty or full? Logic would tell you it's the same distance either way, but we all know it's closer to empty. So cut the crap and see things for what they really are.

I'm not a pessimist. I only see the truth in things. Like my vocabulary and grammar are in the upper echelon. And maybe I'm a little bit cynical because I know what I know better than somebody else can tell me. That's why we always choose to make our own mistakes because we want to see the outcome for ourselves. It's a mistrust of those who we do know and those that we don't. With no expectations, you could never be disappointed. However your expectations for this blog should be high because you and I both know the same thing. "I am better than you."