The Ides of June.
I'm not really sure what's happening to my life. I think God hates me big time. Which is monumentally unfair, considering that aside from the cussing and the drinking and the premarital extracurriculars and the occasional harmless theft I'm actually a really good person. I figured the mid-mid-life crisis was enough punishment for all the things I've done, but the powers that be have decided to put Attica to the tests this week.
I went to the beach for my first Fourth of July as an American (which I hated more than my Fourth of Julys as a furrner), and when I returned, I was blown away by the number of things that had gone horribly, horribly wrong without any participation by yours truly. I found out that one of my best friends has betrayed me awesomely, for no apparent reason. As I was reeling from the shock of that one, I got a voicemail (a VOICEMAIL!!!) from work letting me know that they are reshuffling things yet again, and that I'll be losing the only part of my job that allows me to actually be creative (insert barrel of gun into mouth here). And if that wasn't enough, another one of my best friends, unrelated to the first, basically never wants to speak to me again. And guess what. THERE'S MORE. LOTS. Nothing I can reveal without compromising identities, but it was just as much of a multi-level scrotum-squeezer, rest assured.
It's ironic, because I put a lot of effort into avoiding the cunty pitfalls of being a girl - all that back-stabbey gossipy nonsense - and yet.... and YET.... What a mess I've made of things.
I am resolving to straighten my life out by the end of the summer. New job, functional relationships only, remove all toxic friends from life, stop being so damn trusting, fewer alcohol units, go to gym, clean room and self on a regular basis.
P.S. I was right about the 25 conundrum. Check it out. ABC News: The Quarterlife Crisis
I went to the beach for my first Fourth of July as an American (which I hated more than my Fourth of Julys as a furrner), and when I returned, I was blown away by the number of things that had gone horribly, horribly wrong without any participation by yours truly. I found out that one of my best friends has betrayed me awesomely, for no apparent reason. As I was reeling from the shock of that one, I got a voicemail (a VOICEMAIL!!!) from work letting me know that they are reshuffling things yet again, and that I'll be losing the only part of my job that allows me to actually be creative (insert barrel of gun into mouth here). And if that wasn't enough, another one of my best friends, unrelated to the first, basically never wants to speak to me again. And guess what. THERE'S MORE. LOTS. Nothing I can reveal without compromising identities, but it was just as much of a multi-level scrotum-squeezer, rest assured.
It's ironic, because I put a lot of effort into avoiding the cunty pitfalls of being a girl - all that back-stabbey gossipy nonsense - and yet.... and YET.... What a mess I've made of things.
I am resolving to straighten my life out by the end of the summer. New job, functional relationships only, remove all toxic friends from life, stop being so damn trusting, fewer alcohol units, go to gym, clean room and self on a regular basis.
P.S. I was right about the 25 conundrum. Check it out. ABC News: The Quarterlife Crisis
posted by Attica Wolfcastle, Esq. at 12:26 PM
2 Comments:
Contrary to popular belief, life is NOT like a box of chocolates, life is more like a HBO series, namely Oz, The Sopranos and Deadwood....
For every Ray Mukada you meet there is 25 Rian O'Reillys and 150 Vern Schillingers... for every Seth Bullock you meet there is 200 Cy Tollivers and 2,000 Al Swearengens....
Life is more like a box of sex toys from your local palace of debauchery... Some are smooth and don't feel that bad, others are "ribbed for her pleasure" or covered in nasty studs that make you bleed in a new place every time they move... but they all do you in the arse...
You think everything is cool because Tony Soprano is kissing you on the cheek and giving you hugs when you meet, but when push comes to shove and you expose your starfish you're a fool to think that it won't result in a right royal reaming...
I think what I'm trying to say is LOOK OUT FOR NUMBER ONE... something that a fellow stallion has been insulted for in the past, but now I think about it... well who's the winner in the end? Loyalty is a thing of the past (did it ever exist?) and in the modern world who is it that proliferates? thank you capitalist free market.. sorry getting to general for this speel... In the end it is he who covers his own arse that wins and the rest of you can wallow in your pits NOT safe in the knowledge that you did it for the community.
Ok.. shutting up now, I'm sounding jaded...
Thank you... thank you....
BTW... CIH is backwards for HE@L+H I|\|$UR@NCE C0M|\/||$$1oN.. a now-defunct "Statutory Authority" of the Australian Government, we just didn't put it literally to avoid the prying eyes of google...
I should have said Augustus Hill not Ray Mukada... Mukada is a bit of a sap...
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