What needs to be changed?

Obviously my environment? I can't justify developing my next website idea while I only have a week left before moving out.

Attitude towards my job? Only in the idea that I should just say, "If you don't think I'm working out, fire me now, and I'll respect you for it sense." With ideas that are coming to mind for my extreme leftist blog, it would be best to handle me this way instead of waiting till I'm stuck with a fucking lease.

My abrasive nature...really? People still have a sense of humor right, or is everything taken personally? Am I just a shitty guy to introduce to people?

Or am I just shitty looking? With the baby-face there are times when I think I look too much like Private Pile from "Full Metal Jacket." I'm to the point where I'd appreciate an Am-16 for my birthday.

Read the rest of the blog at MainEventoftheDead.com and let me know if my humor, satire and movie knowledge can translate into a B-Movie comedy about zombies and pro-wrestling.

Hope = Death, a bleak observation

The problem with last night's blog was that it was too repetitive. A struggle to figure out what more can be said about how shitty my existence is. After plenty of calling God a sadistic bastard and thoughts to Frank Miller's "Sin City," I think I may have received a divine answer.

It doesn't get that douche bag Iehova off the shit list, but it is a lesson that I think all should learn and the sooner the better.

Nothing good can come from hope. There has got to be a fucking game plan and the knowledge that the game will end.

This is probably why the Cubs never amount to champions. Cubs "fans" are too busy hoping that this will be the year they will end a century (it's still early in this one, so I'm rounding down) without a championship instead of figuring out how the Cubs can win it.

I think I went over this in my Harbinger article "Why are Chicago Sports Fans Restricted to Hoping." Of course, they have a shitty web adviser, so finding it on their website isn't going to happen. No worries, I'll post it tomorrow on http://harshside309.blogspot.com

Back to the bitching about God failing to give us a reach around. If you are restricted to hoping something good will happen in a situation, it won't. Name one person you've hoped from their death bed?

Look at Baby Dax. We were hoping he wasn't going to cash it in. We hoped a miracle would save his butt.

We hope when something is impossible. We got to stop doing that.

Look at "Sin City". Bruce Willis's character says it best after telling Jessica Alba justice will prevail and tells her to run off:

And after I pull off that miracle, maybe I'll go punch out God.

Our hero then promptly blows his brains out because the game is over.

It can even be traced back to "Fight Club".

First you have to give up, first you have to *know*... not fear... *know*... that someday you're gonna die.

Characters occassionally get lucky like Clive Owen in "Sin City," but in the end, "City of Men" found a way to make a downer flick even more depressing.

Perhaps this is why writing has been difficult for me right now. What I write is creationism. If you don't love god, how can you play one. This is killing my fiction, my screenplay, and my return to the wrestling scene.

God is a dick, but I'll give him credit to his wisdom. He gave his detractor some of it to try to get me over him.

But I'm a fucking Cubs fan, and like the trade of Lou Brock, I don't get over shit.

Let it be 2010 because 2012 is too far away.

No, it's not a resolution. With my depressed mood, I'd like it to be a documentation till extinction. Saves on writing a suicide not.

So I've been assigned my work station which is pretty much out on it's own. Yes, this should be a good thing when you dislike most people, but when you don't have any friends and positive social interaction is a necessity I'm plenty fucked.

A lot of you may interpret this as a fuck you, but it's more of a compliment. Why would anyone want to hang out with this downer? This isn't a blame either. I put myself in a position where I have no real connections. Still, there is kind of a feeling that I've been given up on by those who can actually hang out with, but that ain't right since all of you have moved on to better things.

Read the rest of the blog at MainEventoftheDead.com and let me know if my humor, satire and movie knowledge can translate into a B-Movie comedy about zombies and pro-wrestling.

Your beautiful and your god is an asshole

So things once again have hints of improvement in my life, but lord know I ain't sold on it. Why? Because the last couple things I've written have just been plain angry. Not satirical, no humor, just pissed off because I think it's a load of bull shit that I'm suppose to hope. When do I get something to hope about? After I get pissed.

Faith, fuck that.

I'm sorry, but it feels like I've been awarded for passive aggressive behavior. Even if I'm in the right by telling all my friends to grow a fucking backbone [and it's only inadvertently passive because so many phone numbers have changed and I don't have many tangible relationships (and some could say I have zero in that category)], anger was the prevalent emotion.

Perhaps too much Eastern pinches of philosophy, knowing that the poser named Jesus (not the piercer but the pierce one known as the messiah) never got angry (he just got tough in the temple), and Stacia making sure that I would never get angry (and if I took her lead, I can only be angry if I was cute about it), but it is the one emotion I cannot tolerate.

Unless it's about the fucking White Sox, I am out to be the mother fucking Jedi master. Fear is something I have enough problems dealing with. Do you think I can really handle anger...let alone hate and suffering?

What I am getting to is that the power that be is an asshole, and lets face it is really undeserving of anyone....

Just pausing because I am confused where to place this blog. Should be on this personal blog one because I am talking about the ways of my fucked up maze? Should be on http://harshside309.blogspot.com because I am attacking the fabric of the most hypocritical of society? Or should be on http://rohmobile.com because despite the flaws that almost make it as bad as "Pirate Radio," watching "Persepolis" fuels my discontent with the big guy.

He is either rewarding me for being a prick or he is keeping up with his sick sense of humor. If putting me in a house where I can't have a cat and a racist mother who doesn't want me to leave weren't torture enough.

Either way, God is an asshole. Never reward the cunts, tax the fuck out of them. And if someone tells me to lay off certain jokes, I'll go out of the way to knock that shit off (no guarantees of course).

So, I'm confused, and I need some fucking guidance, and I do not want to take it from anyone who wants to put God in their bibliography. Can somebody please step up?

If you are pissy about how I'm acting towards the big fella, helping me out may be God's will.

I guess it would be nice.

Thanks for the abandonment assholes

I thought I had written in my last blog that I need people to just accept the fact that I am fucking hopeless. To tell me just to fuck off. I forgot that I'm so much easier to just fucking ignore.

Hey, I'm sorry that most of the shit I blog about is how shitty my life is. Sorry you won't take the time to accept that this is more than a pity trip. Just fuck me for my opinion pieces being dedicated to ICC's school newspaper that won't fucking help itself.

The world is fed up with me, I should get that, but again I hate relying on fucking implications.

Read the rest of the blog at MainEventoftheDead.com and let me know if my humor, satire and movie knowledge can translate into a B-Movie comedy about zombies and pro-wrestling.