Rain

It’s official, it’s another shitty day. It’s raining like that tampon commercial. The rain basically makes me crazy. I’m not talking about wearing Indian feathers on my head and dancing in the street with my bird hanging out crazy, just out of sorts. I can never get it together on rainy days. As soon as I see it’s raining, I go into unproductive mode, and subsequently do nothing but check my fantasy teams, and surf websites that would surely get me fired. That’s just the way it is. To be honest, it’s miraculous that I’m even taking the time to write. I seriously do NOTHING on rainy days. I don’t even think I take the time to play with my balls. Okay, that’s a blatant lie. I just wanted to stress how unproductive I am. Really, it’s not the fact that it’s raining. I actually don’t do anything ever. I get paid to surf the web, and leave obnoxious posts on http://www.myspace.com/. If not that, I just sit around and make fun of the homeless with my friends on instant messenger. I’m glad nobody ever asks me what I’m laughing at.

Inquisitive co-worker: “What are you laughing at?”
Me: Oh nothing
Inquisitive co-worker: “Seriously, I want to know.”
Me: You really don’t, trust me.
Inquisitive co-worker: “I really do, just tell me, I like to laugh.”
Me: My God, fine. My friend was just saying that he’d like to get a beejer from the bum on Hilcroft. Are you happy? I’m laughing at references to homosexual encounters with homeless men. (Very long awkward silence.)
Grossed out co-worker: Okay, well, I guess I’ll see you at the work party later?
Me: Um, yeah, I’ll see you there…

The exchange would go something like that. Does everybody not do anything at work, or am I just the only lazy bastard around? I mean, I really do nothing. Unless, any of my co-workers are reading this, in that case I really have a passion for my job, and I bust my ass to make sure I get the job done. Who’s up for a mid-day drinking binge? There’s really nothing else to do. I’m sure it would make the day a lot more entertaining if I had entirely too much to drink, and actually did end up dancing in the street with Indian feathers on my head, showing my bird to passer-bys. It’s actually a sad feeling when you realize that your work would not skip a beat if you no longer worked there. Most people are working to get their stuff finished before the weekend. I am worrying about what dressing I want with my chargrilled cool wrap from Chik-fil-a. Someday, this might all catch up to me, but probably not. I always get by. I mean ALWAYS. Even when I was in high school, I did absolutely nothing. Needless to say, I have the work ethic of a bed ridden obese person from Cleveland. I have nothing against the fine city of Cleveland. I just assume that would be the kind of work ethic, an obese person from there would have. I came to a realization very early in my high school career, only geeks and Asians study. I mastered the art of doing just enough to get by. It has actually put in a better situation then most people my age. I have a beautiful family that I have yet to corrupt and send through life gigantic disappointments. I own a home in a good neighborhood, and I just bought a car. So, take THAT logic, and responsibility! I still haven’t figured out a way to parlay this website into financial gain for myself, but I figure it’ll work out…it always does. I’d much rather sit around watching Cold Pizza, eating half burnt waffles in my underwear, all while thinking of,”funny,” stuff to write about. How sweet would that be? Hey Pat, what are you doing today?
Me: Well, I’ve got a lot of work to do. I’ll probably roll out of bed around 10, watch Sportscenter three consecutive times, and maybe check my e-mail. After that, I’ll eat the rest of the ranch dip, and maybe take a nap. Only after a nap will I be fully prepared, and inspired to bring the quality entertainment you are used to. Maybe I’ll take an extra day to think of something real good to write about. This process will cycle over and over until I never write again, and I end up being the guy giving beejers out for turkey sandwiches under the overpass at Fondren. I think I’ll just keep my job for now. I mean, it’s not like I’m doing anything anyway. God, I’m pathetic. I may write some more later on. Then again, I’m lazy and very unpredictable, so who knows. Ideally, by 4 pm, I’ll be hammered singing Clay Aiken at a karaoke bar.