Tag Archives: lazy

I wish I could quit you

Ok, I am willing to be the first to admit that I have been a lazy shit for a few months.

I haven’t written a post for quite awhile.

But can you really blame me?
I mean, I started the blog coming up on 7 years ago this June and have written almost 700 posts and close to three quarters of a million words on a blog that I can’t honestly prove anyone actually reads.

I mean, masturbation at least gets you a money shot, but this form of literary/intellectual fapping denies me even a foul smelling crunchy sock.

So why am I here today?

Iz is why I am tapping away here.

Iz is the poster child for whats wrong with this country/generation/the kids today.

She is worthless even for a millenial.

She is on her phone at a Starbucks. (What else would she be doing?)

Her entire manner of speaking is that of someone terminally bored.

All sentences begin with a sigh.

And she cleaves to the latest trend among the young and worthless.

She has her phone on speaker, you know, so the rest of us can enjoy her conversation too.

“Sigh, I was going to go to work today, but I so can’t right now.” (Can’t what? Take responsibility for yourself and earn a paycheck?)

On the phone is someone equally worthless.

“Sigh, I know, right? I went for my morning vape break and didn’t go back.” (This is normally how adults get fired, but I am willing to bet money that her company gives days off if you “So can’t right now”.)

More from the mouth of Iz.

“I feel like they take whole thing too far, its no fun.” (Awww, poor fucking baby!)

Time to get involved. (I recently realized that I am too old to care anymore. If she is going to include me in the conversation, I get to speak.)
“Why don’t you just quit whining and go to work?”

The look on Iz’s face is a mix of surprize slap out of nowhere and unexpectedly shitting yourself in church.

Then she decides to be angry. A child’s scowl darkens her spoiled little face.

“Excuse me?” (Whoever her half-tarded friend on the phone is, she is bewildered and saying “What?” over and over.)

“I said, why don’t you just quit whining and go to work?” (I keep my voice nice and even. This whole situation can turn on me in a heartbeat and I know it.)


“Oh. My. God.” (It never occurs to this ditz to take her phone off of speaker, that would be the normal reaction of a self aware person.)

“This guy is yelling at me.” (To a millenials, anyone who disagrees or chastises you is yelling.)

She left, but I was so disappointed.

I had been hoping for at least some shitty comments.

Not an OLD guy, not some FAT guy (Lost a bunch, but still have more to go), and not even this guy is an ASSHOLE.

I am weeping even more for the future than I normally do.

Let me be clear.

I was not looking for her to leap across the table and try to prison-shank me, but anything but passivity would have been nice.

I have thought a lot of things about the generation in question before, most of them not nice.

But I never thought of them as pussies.

And that is just sad.

I would feel worse, but I got a Sumatran pour over today and the last sip made me cum a little bit.

Mmmmm coffee.


Posted by on May 4, 2018 in Uncategorized


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I do not abuse my car, honestly.

I was driving on the freeway with the girlfriend and a Shelby Mustang Cobra passes me.

Passing a 97 Taurus with transmission issues is not that hard for a Shelby Mustang Cobra.

“Good god.” That is really all I can say. I grew up in a car family, and although I am pure crap as a mechanic, I can recognize the real deal when I see it.

“That man has no penis.” Is my girlfriend’s comment. “He is compensating for something.

At this point, I don’t care if he has a vagina. I am not wishing I could sleep with him, but his taste in cars is stunning.

Maybe not the taste, but the financial ability to have a Shelby Mustang Cobra is the impressive part.

He could have gotten a Mercedes, top of the line Lexus, Ferrari, anyone of those European super cars.

But not this guy.

He bought American.

He may as well be John Wayne behind the wheel.

Not sure what being behind the wheel of the terminally ill Taurus says.

I tend to chose quickly and cheaply.

Ok, I’ll own that.

In my own defense, the Taurus was not a car I set out to get, it just kind of showed up.

Like some sort of automotive herpes, not my choice and I have just been stuck with it.

It will die, eventually, and I have made a DNR in my own head for it. Do not rebuild. When it dies, I will let it go.

Shitty cars are like that.

If you are into cars, this makes no sense.

But, if you only view a car as something to get you from point A to point B, this makes perfect sense.

I have always wanted to get an old classic and restore it into one of those “Cruise Night” cars.

I just don’t have that kind of attention span.

Growing up, I figure I broke my father’s heart several times with my treatment of my cars.

Or rather mistreatment.

Ignoring regular maintenance is one thing, by my big issue was ignoring things that demanded maintenance.

Like water leaks, oil leaks, warning lights, you name it.

This was the type of thing that destroyed several of my early cars.

These I like to refer to as my serial car-killer days.

I try to be better now, but those were my formative years.

I even gave my car an oil change and a sloppy tune up last weekend.

(But I also made sure my bike tires are properly inflated. Just in case.)

1 Comment

Posted by on October 25, 2011 in Uncategorized


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