Melon Collie And The Infinite Meh-ness
I’d like to apologize in advance for the tone of this post, which is pretty much full of me whining. There’s a video containing a horrible jingle that you have to watch in order to get the premise here, so I’m sorry for that, too. I’d also like to apologize for any sense that this post might lack. I’m quite sleepy and sick-feeling, which is impairing my ability to properly use words and proofread and shit.
But I’m going to indulge in my blogging itch anyways; partly because I need to write and it’s not as fun keeping my mental bullshit to myself, but also because I have a sense of obligation to make up for promising regular posts on such and such days and not following through. Yes, I suck. Though in my defense, I’ve been working a mother-fuck ton on top of my usual child-rearing and being a
mediocre housekeeper and land scaper and good listener and personal chef and sex-maker good girlfriend. All of these things, on top of regular bouts of vigorous day-dreaming, have been incredibly taxing.
On top of all of it, I’ve been rather melancholy lately.
Or, as I sometimes call it, “meh as fuck”.
Like most humans, I’m afflicted with this from time to time, though this particular bout is balls deep in my soul’s metaphorical cooter, humping away and showing no sign of rolling over and farting any time soon.
It’s such bull shit. I have more than enough reasons to be happy instead of sad. Examples:
1. I have a job. It may not be the best job in the world seeing how my title in the medical industry sucks, but it beats the shit out of not having a steady income. There’s a lot of unemployed mother fuckers out there and folks who have to take a bus to their shitty grind with meager wages because that’s all they have to feed and clothe their kids with. I’ve been there, done that, and it sucks horse cock. That’s right. HORSE COCK.
2. My darling children and I live in a house and not with either of my parents or in a tiny box with a stove and a shower for an apartment like we used to.
3. My health and body isn’t the greatest shape at the moment, but at least I don’t have HIV or half-face syndrome (yes, that’s a real thing. Google it). Also, I’m not in a wheelchair, nor am I a hermaphrodite. And that’s not to slam on hermaphrodites, I’m sure you all are wonderful people, but I DON’T WANT TO BE YOU. One set of genitals is more than I can handle.
4. I have an mp3 player, and my hair is shiny as fuck.
5. My kids don’t hate me yet
So why am I so sad lately to where things like getting out of bed and acting human have been so difficult? There are many reasons, but I mostly blame this commercial:
“When large groups of people get so excited over something completely mundane thus causing them to collectively burst out into song”~ #341 on my list of shit that gets on my fucking nerves.
Seriously, it’s just a food label. These assholes need to calm down.
This video is from ‘Accent Health’, a program that plays in the waiting room on a continuous loop at work. The television that plays said program is about eight or twelve feet away from my desk. I cannot turn it off. I cannot turn it down. And even if I move to the other computer where I won’t be in direct sight of this bullshit, I still see it reflecting off the mirrored window at the other end of the clinic. Not to mention it’s loud enough to where I can hear it pretty much no matter where I go. It also opens up the door for never-ending questions from patients like, “Can you change the channel? My precious Bobby or whatever likes to watch the Wiggles right about now”, or “Can’t you turn on the GAME? There’s a GAME playing right now, how can you watch this when a GAME is on?”
Yeah guys, I keep this shit on because fuck you.
Being a firm believer in reincarnation and karma, being forced to have this in my life makes me wonder if I was a miserable fuck that set kittens on fire for fun in a past life.
The whole program runs for about thirty minutes, therefore the above commercial plays twice an hour. Every hour. For ten or twelve hours depending on the day. So to put it into perspective, the past four days in a row, I’ve worked approximately forty-six hours. Fifty-eight after today’s shift is done. Therefore, I have heard this ninety-two times or so, with exception to when I’m in the break room or hiding in the bathroom and talking myself out of drinking the giant gallon of hospital-grade cleaner we keep in there just to not have to listen to the fuckitry anymore.
Okay, I’m kidding on that last part. I’m not that dramatic. Plus, that shit would taste horrible and I am not disciplined enough to muscle through a sip, let alone a whole gallon.
And you know what plays right after that one? This retarded little gem right here:
Douchey, smug, white-suburban twat monkeys like the ones in this video make me want to puke my guts out. I avoid assholes like these much like one would avoid contracting herpes or the plague, so to have to listen to them MAKE WORDS COME OUT OF THEIR FACES TWICE AN HOUR CAUSES ME TO WANT TO BASH THE FUCKING TELEVISION IN WITH A BAT.
And not that I’m against dads being dads and wearing a baby frontpack, but something about that dude makes me want to punch him right in his uterus.
Okay, so maybe I can’t blame all of my sad on these awful videos. I have a lot of things that have been filling me with horrible discontent for a while now, and I’m to a point where ignoring it is no longer an option. I’ll spare the details, but I know that it’s time to shit or get off the neighbor’s lawn, because “shit’s gonna get real” if I don’t.
“If you want a happy life, you need to get the fuck off your ass and make it happen or else the sad monsters will eat your genitals while you sleep”~Buddha
Oh, and to compensate for making you all watch those shitty videos, here’s Gilbert Gottfried reading parts from 50 Shades of Grey. You’re welcome.