from a slacker

Someone told me recently that I don't post new material nearly enough (duh) and that my blog is on the cusp of sucking (say it ain't so!). When I told him that I am lacking inspiring material, he replied that I should simply blog about my "everyday happenings and observations and stuff."

Oh boy. I don't think I really want people to know how boring I actually am.

A typical blog post with the "I'll just blog about the details of my life!" mentality might start out like this:

This morning I woke up at 7a.m. I figure it's a sign that I'm turning into an old lady that I keep waking up earlier and earlier without an alarm clock. Apparently other people share the opinion that I'm a washed-up old bag since I rarely get carded these days and someone asked me the other day how many kids I have. Not to mention the 53-year-old who tried to pull a fast one on me in a bar the other night (true story!) So anyway I dragged my geriatric self out of bed, and after some mundane shit like peeing and brushing my teeth (actually that is a lie; I never brush my teeth until after I eat breakfast and I never understand why some people insist on doing it first thing in the morning so that they can just get them dirty again - is your breath really that intollerable?)... anyway then I started to make my breakfast. Breakfast keeps getting more and more out-of-control at my "house" (place of residence? home? trailor? double-wide?) as I keep adding more and more shit to the meal. For example, this was really truly honestly my breakfast this morning:
1 cup of coffee
1 big bowl of oatmeal
1 banana
2 necatrines
1 grapefruit
1 pint-basket of strawberries
and a kiwi
As you can imagine, it takes me quite a bit of time to eat a breakfast of such magnificent portions and it's actually quite nice sitting there easing my way into the morning like a person should when they take their responsibility to be lazy seriously (like I do).

...It would go on to mention my daily activities such as cleaning up pelican poop, disecting squid, taking chocolate chip cookies on my bike rides and having them melt in my back pocket and getting chocolate all over my white handlebar tape, and my therapeutic grocery shopping disorder. Anyway as you can see the post would be a giant novel of absolutely no interest to anyone but myself.

Speaking of things that are entirely uninteresting, I was watching a bit of Oprah the other day (I shuddered with embarassment as I typed that, by the way - but remember the whole thing about being seriously responsibly lazy?) and she was making this whole big deal about some book called "The Secret" which is one of those "inspirational" sorts of books that is supposed to make you motivated to have a great life (since apparently the vast majority of us are content with quasi-shitty ones). So "The Secret" is all about the alleged secret to a happy life, which is this:

You can change your life by changing the way you think.

um....

um...

um..

duh?

So there was Oprah, sitting with her "special" guests (they were special, alright) going on and on about THIS NEW EPIPHANY that making goals for yourself will help you get better at stuff.

And then one of her guests, who was a "big-boned" lady (you know the sort - big hands, shall I say?) in an all-lavender suit and lots of Maybeline, started up with this idea she had about making a "Love List". The idea is (remember, this is the Lavender Big Hands Lady's idea, NOT MINE!) that if you make a list of all the things you would want in a future boyfriend (obviously men would never be silly enough to actually do this which is why they never adressed future girlfriends), then this ideal boyfriend will magically show up on your doorstep.

Then they had people in the audience who had ACTUALLY DONE THIS and they stood there, on public television, and read there lists OUT LOUD!!!

This is how most of them went:

- sweet
- caring
- romantic
- spontaneous
- handsome
- good with children

If they hadn't been so goddamn serious, I might have peed my pants laughing instead of staring at the television with my jaw just sort of hanging there like a fucktard. It sort of made me wish I could be on the Oprah show, so that I could stand there in the audience all serious-like and ramble off a list that might go like this:

- butt ugly
- boring
- child molester
- evil
- abusive
- doesn't give a rat's ass about anything I say or do

Just to fuck with Oprah. Because I imagine there are few things in teh world that would be quite as satisfying as fucking with Oprah (note I said fucking WITH oprah, not fucking oprah - which I would imagine might be entirely UNsatisfying, but that's another story).

Other items hot off the press:

- We're having some sort of ridiculous heat wave hear on the central coast, which means today it is actually as hot in San Luis as it might be on a typical summer day in Pleasant Hill. I must be turning into a wuss because riding my bike this morning nearly killed me and I can't remember ever being so drenched in sweat in my life, except for maybe this one time that is not appropriate to blog about. It was disgusting.

- Yesterday someone in a DIRECT TV van honked a bajillion times and waved enthusiastically at me as they drove past me on my bike. After pulverising my brain trying to come up with anyone I know who might for some reason be driving a DIRECT TV van, I came up with no one.

- SLO is emptying out for the summer. With all the college whores heading off for the summer, I'm starting to like this town a little bit more.



Over and out until I post again, probably in 2 months or so.