Having a Felix Felicis good luck day

Today has been a rather good day.  I woke up later than usual because I start a new 8:30 to 5:30 shift.  Sleeping later is good.

Work went smoothly especially since the boss is on vacation this week.

I had a great Thai lunch buffet.

I made tons of cash in my investment since the market is up and feeling good.

The commute both ways was easier because it is not right on the rush hour.

I was awesome at band practice this evening.  The whole band is awesome!  I’m impressed.

You can’t expect a weekday to go any better.  I figured as long as I had that dose of Felix Felicis, I should buy a Powerball ticket.  So I did.  Too bad the drawing isn’t tonight.  Still.  I have the winning ticket!

I feel good.  Let’s see if this can go on all week.

A few days later:   Hey!  I did win the lottery!   I got the Powerball number but no other numbers so I get $4.00.  I paid $2.00 for the ticket so I doubled my money.  What a lucky day!

 

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Mentally Exhausted

I find myself unable to relax anymore.  When the weekend comes I spend my whole time busying myself physically.  When there’s finally time to rest, I spend it with my mind racing to find solutions to my unfulfillable desires of friendship and retirement.

It’s stupid because I’ve already spent years processing the algorithm but it always ends up in an infinite loop.  My mind buzzes:

10 Try to figure it out
20 IF not figured out GOTO 10

Suddenly it’s Monday again and I have to go to work.  I wake up feeling like I’ve had absolutely no rest.  I wish I could shut it off.  It has been so long I can’t even imagine what it might feel like for my brain to be idle.   No matter where I go or what I do, the program is running.  I’m getting desperate to turn it off.  Drugs maybe?  What can I do?

There’s only so much that physical distraction can accomplish.  I usually end up doing both.  Really sucks.

 

Why do women ignore me like I don’t exist?

I am always amazed as I wander the planet that women completely ignore me like I don’t exist.

I smile at them but they are just not there.  I thought women wanted a good man.

Don’t women want a good man who will treat them like a queen?
Don’t women want a man who has money and no debt?
Don’t women want a man who will belong only to them?
Don’t women want a man who can fix things?
Don’t women want a man who is the most awesome person on the planet?
Don’t women want a man who can do anything he puts his mind to?

I’m confounded.
I’m perplexed.
I’m confused.

I believe it is proof that the women I see are not real.  The only explanation is that they are all holographic projections of a computer simulation that has not yet achieved that ability to express human emotion.  I have been placed in this simulator from birth and am being studied by aliens to try to understand the Human race in order to conquer Earth.

That is the ONLY possible explanation.
GET ME OUT OF HERE!!  I’M ON TO YOU!!

 

 

 

 

Lonely or Horny?

lnlyhrnyIt’s another weekend where I have time to rest and think about how empty my life is.  I’m not saying that work makes my life better but it certainly helps take my mind of the other mundanities of life.

I usually spend the weekend at home alone because I have nowhere else to go and nobody to spend any time with.  My thoughts drift to wondering if there is anyone out there for me.  I can sometime spend hours rehashing my thoughts and trying to make sense of my loneliness.  You might think it was simple but it is rather complex.  Maybe it’s simple for normal people but I’m far from normal.

If I really boil it down until the only the essence is left, I think it is just plain hornyness.  What happens to the brain of a 49 year old man who is still a virgin?   You can bet it’s pretty screwed up in a literal sense.   In the end, all I want is someone to touch me.  It doesn’t seem like too much to ask, does it?  What kind of world is this where touching is so prohibited.

Finally, after hours of mental anguish, I end up masturbating and then all is well with the world.  I think I should probably do that early in the morning and cut out the wasted time but being horny is kind of fun on it’s own.  It’s just the lack of an outlet that makes it suck so much.   If there is such a thing as reincarnation, I sure hope it is on a planet where sex and the human body is not such a taboo.

 

Are all neighbors crazy?

I’m pretty sure that all neighbors are crazy.  I’ve watched them all my life and there’s no doubt that they are all insane.

I am currently surrounded by crazy people.  The house across the street has a family of black people who have 5 cars and come and go constantly.  Every time I go out into my yard I see them either pull up, drive away or just sit in the car with the engine running for an hour or more.  So how many times to they come and go when I’m not looking? Do they buy their potato chips one chip at a time?  Where the hell are they going all the time?

My neighbors right next door are renters.  They pretty much ignore me completely.  If I’m lucky I might make some small talk but otherwise I might not exist.  Have they no idea what awesomeness lives right next door?

I can go on and on but I’ll keep it short.  Having a crazy President doesn’t help.

I think, perhaps, people are crazy all over.  When I was young, I came to the conclusion that people are dumb because they think they are smart.  This theory may still have some value.   As closed-minded as we have become these days, our ideas are all we have and therefore must be the Truth.  (Capital T in truth because when we decide for ourselves that something is true then there can be no other truth no matter what.)

Maybe people are crazy because they are just trying to cope with pointless existence.  They are doing the best they can to avoid the monotony of a dreary daily life with nothing to look forward to.

Maybe the observers are the crazy ones.  We might think that others are crazy because they don’t conform to the standards of our own truth.

Craziness has exploded in recent years.  I think it started around the year 2000.  It was at that time when everything special had already been done and oppressive mundanity forced us to go to extremes to make life livable.  The internet became a major medium allowing crazy extremism to spread like wildfire until we were all infected.  So far, no antidote seems to be available and there’s no doubt that craziness is exponential.  I wonder what it will be like in just another ten years.  If the aliens don’t come soon then we are sure to destroy ourselves.

I guess I’m not one to lodge complaints about crazy people.  My attempts to cope with life has left me as crazy as a soup sandwich.  I’m sure my neighbors think I’ve completely lost it.  Here’s a guy who runs around naked, showers in his backyard, keeps his house and yard nice, builds TARDISes in his garage, is still a virgin at 49, has no friends, lives alone with a cat, wears short shorts and speedos, drives a Prius and has a lot of money.

Boobity boobity boo!  I’m probably crazier than you!

 

 

Let go of my past?

PHOTORITED

For most of my adult life I’ve been haunted by the wonderful memories of being a kid and having friends to play with.   The fact that I no longer have any of that hurt me deeply and permanently.  I spent so many years wishing back for the good times that were past.

I just realized the other day that I think I am finally over that.  I think it helps that I’ve let go of Facebook where I was constantly reminded of the existence of my old friends who no longer want me in their lives.  I feel that I have let go of my past life and I am finally living only in the present and future.   I no longer wish for those things I had.

I’m not really sure what more to say about it other than just wanting to say something to mark the occasion of my transcendence to the next level.   I feel good.  Better for sure.

Level Up!

 

 

Trapped!!

trpdcgeHelp!  I’m trapped in the cage of life!

I’m stuck in a meaningless existence waiting for someone to free me. I rattle the bars but nobody can hear me.  Nobody cares.  They like me to be in this cage where I can work for them and always be there for them.  They don’t want to see me free and happy.

I’m working a pointless, dead-end job again because I have nowhere else to go.  I would quit and just stay home all day but that’s not what I want either.  Not in my current suburban wasteland house anyway.

Until I can find some land in the country I remain in my cage.   Waiting… Waiting…  Wishing… Crying…

People who read this blog regularly know me as singing this same song over and over. Unfortunately it’s all I have to sing.  Now I know why the caged bird sings.  It sings of hope and freedom.  It sings of companionship and purpose. It sings of love and life.

Does anybody care?  Anyone at all?