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Monday, June 16, 2008

they were gonna delete my Xanga. Bastards.

Saturday, September 01, 2007

As I sit here in my computer chair, wearing nothing but camouflage pants and a smile, I wonder what I'm going to do with all that stuff in my closet. I'm betting my dad will let me store it in my old room, it doesn't take up much room after all. I glance down and notice the cover of the People Magazine featuring Daniel Radcliffe of Harry Potter fame. He has the same haircut as me, but shorter. Alicia scribbled out his face because she didn't want me to be embarrassed taking it in to the haircut place. I laughed when she did that.

I turn the chair to my left and see my half cleaned desk. How did so many pieces of a cookie dough wrapper get on my desk? I can't believe I never cleaned this thing. Moving those to the side, I see about a buck fifty in change. I also see the lighter that my sister brought to me from Paris. It doesn't work, even though I filled it with butane, but I'm keeping it anyway. Should I put that in my luggage now, or keep it at my dad's place?

And this is when I realize that I feel more like a real person now than I ever have. Isn't it nice having a life?

Sunday, August 05, 2007

August 6, 2007

To Whom it May Concern,

It is with regret that I am informing you of my resignation from StatLine as a Triage Coordinator. I will soon be moving to Ireland for personal reasons. I have appreciated my experiences and time here, and feel it was an excellent opportunity. I will truly miss the people I have come to respect in this position.

My last day will be scheduled on the 19th of August. I have recently been informed that PTO will be paid out in full, thereby dictating this end date. If this is not the case however, I would be happy to discuss the PTO situation further.

Again, it has been a pleasure working here and am grateful for the experiences I have gained at this company.

Sincerely,

Clint Emsley, Badass motherfucker Esquire.

P.S. Eat my cock
P.P.S. No, seriously.
P.P.P.S. Okay, so not really. That would hurt like a bitch.
P.P.P.P.S. I still fucking hate you.

Wednesday, June 27, 2007

So.

For argument's sake, let's say you're a 30 year old male. For the past 5 years of your life you've been married to a wonderful girl. She can't have kids, but that's okay, because all you need is each other. You're very happy.

You've lived a good life, trying to help those around you and spread good will while not sacrificing your own well being.

One day, you unexpectedly die. The circumstances are unimportant (though I prefer to imagine that it was a large bus that fell off a bridge onto a ferry you were riding that day), you're just gone. Your widow misses you greatly.

After, say, another 5 years, she meets another man. She loves him equally, but differently. They are extremely happy as well, and though there will always be a part of her that belongs to you, she does not mourn you anymore and lives her life joyously with this new man.

They both live good lives, resisting the temptations of evil that they come across, and pass away peacefully at the ages of 76 and 77.

That's got to be really awkward in heaven.

Thursday, June 07, 2007

The problem with Myspace...

Wait, let's start over.

One of the many problems with Myspace is that I'm used to making fun of it. Now that I've actually signed up for an account there, though, I find myself more reluctant to post scathing comments about it.

Not because I've gained any respect for it, mind you. It's just that many of the people that I work with (and actually like) HAVE a Myspace. Now, when I finally caved and made a Myspace account, I figured it'd be kind of like Xanga, where you have 1,000 crappy, flower covered, dripping with stupidity blogs for every 1 somewhat intelligent, actually readable blog. Much to my surprise, however, I found that Myspace is not only 99.9% the same, I've actually yet to find a Myspace that lives up to my standards of "actually readable."

Seriously, am I the only one that doesn't have some sort of giant clashing background, or less than 500 words describing my personality that I stole from other websites, or 3 videos of random bands that I've decided to obsess about this week?

And this is not just restricted to stupid people. No, people that I respect and in fact look up to also have giant flashing banners proclaiming their love of pantera, or cake, or bondage, or whatever. They too indulge in the survey taking websites, which tell them what kind of potato they are (I'm mashed) or what color the eyes of their guiding power ranger zord are (I got gunmetal gray). IQ is not a factor when it comes to choosing a background vs. text color: It will always suck.

Now, if this were restricted to giggly asian teenagers, I wouldn't be all that stunned. But the fact of the matter is, EVERYONE BUT ME (and 1 other person) HAS A STUPID MYSPACE!

So, I've come to the conclusion that, yes, I am totally deranged, because obviously every sane mind in the world thinks that changing your theme song with any new album you buy is a great idea. The general populace, and indeed, the upper echelons, still put 1300 flashing banners proclaiming various catchy phrases despite the obvious risk of causing seizures in small Japanese children who accidentally stopped looking at tentacle porn and found themselves on Myspace.

Seriously. I must be missing something.