Thank You Benjamin James Spurlock For Actually Giving Me Good Advice That I Think Is Going To Save My Life And Keep This Blog Going. Shout Outs Also to Jay, Eli, Elizabeth, Shannon, My Mom, My Aunt, And Lone Coug (All of You Are The Only True Friends Left In My Life.)

"Some people are just fucking crazy. I know you're going to say so are you and so is everyone, but I mean, some people are actually really fucking crazy, and pretend like they have their shit together because they think they are content or normal now because of the prescribed drugs their on or because they have made a change in their life or have never done anything wrong. That's bullshit, because no one has their shit together, and from what I can tell they are just as fucked up, if not more fucked up than you, because at least you acknowledge your issues and take responsibility, instead of blaming everyone else, or just being that narcissistic by believing that they have no problems or that the fucked up shit they do isn't a problem at all. I know your empathetic but sometimes people are just actually FUCKED UP."

"Fuck'em."

"Fuck'em."

"Fuck'em."

"Fuck'em."

"Fuck'em."

The hardest part is seeing/listening/experiencing the positive qualities of these people. And even through all this shit, I still enjoy their company and miss not being able to talk with them. Because deep down I'm scared to lose anymore friends. Deep Down, I'm scared to be alone.

You are making different shapes with your hands to distract yourself from the words other people are pegging you with.

Too lazy to bolt off the couch and jump through the window into the hands of the car hoods below.

A Facebook Response Addressing The Comment : "preach on brother swid." (Injecting Snake Venom Cocktails Could Prolong Your Life And Might Cure Cancer.) For Richard Vargas.

 

Okay.

 

So im not preaching as much as im taking it all in and regurgitating chewed food mess back onto the kitchen floor. And you’re down there taking it all in.

Im sick. Not talking, really just moving my jaws lazily up and down as I watch thoughts pass through the spaces between teeth. Getting lost and distracted as they float on the currents of warm air drifting through my bathroom— yes, my bathroom has its own weather patterns, which include hurricanes, tornadoes, droughts, and floods. Im sitting on the plastic toilet seat observing their slow, smooth movements. Like grape jelly filmed splattering against a white wall in slow-motion. Like it all made sense. But it never makes sense.

Nonsense: without logic; void of meaning.

Still, it feels important to capture and package these thoughts for food into plastic vacuum sealed containers. Preserved morsels of the past to be enjoyed at a later date.

I think im going crazy, but we all tend to second guess ourselves when we’re in the process of “losing it.”

Am I going crazy?

No. But I guess I have to pass some assessment. Because everyone has a voice, which means everyone has an opinion.

I am feeling fuzzy, like Im in a daze languidly exploring the parameters of this comment box with reckless abandon. And it’s dark and rocky like an underground cave or a concrete pipeline. I feel like I will either fall into a hole or discover a room decorated with gigantic crystals at any second.

I will go to bed tonight after witnessing a cigarette self-embalming itself (the ancient Japanese practice: sokushinbutsu), which is why it takes me three days to process the messages posted on/in my digital space.

But, for argument’s sake, Im sick, which is why Im taking it all in, and regurgitating chewed food mess back onto the floor—not preaching—but you’re still down there taking it all in, eating partially digested fragments of space and matter. So what does that make you?

It’s an interesting question to pose.

Who are you? And why do you care about me?

I thought it was en vogue to stay 50 feet away from anyone with any kind of disease, ranging from the common cold all the way to cancer, no?

And it feels like our breaths’ importance is equal in really cold weather, which is why they reveal their physical appearance, instead of remaining invisible.

Snot dripping from our noses. Cheeks red and chaffed. This notion will remain true ad infinitum.

Just like the notion that I could have done something more productive on my day off like learning how to play an instrument, depositing other people’s money in my bank account, or shoveling the backyard clear of snow so my neighbors could really understand the beauty of a well-cut lawn.

Oh well.

"Duuuuddde, she's so hot." "Like the hottest fucking girl in the valley!"

When I am at work or a party or out with friends and someone attractive walks by and/or chats with us for five minutes and walks away, I can guarantee that a friend or coworker or random person who I'm next to will blurt out the statement, "Yo, she's so fucking hot! I would love to be up inside of that. Tappin that ass." as he/she points down at his/her sexual organ and humps the air. Or something similar to that. Then he/she will turn to me, and ask me, "Duuuuuudddde, like isn't she like the hottest fucking girl in the valley?" I think an outside party is required to confirm this fact for the local historian in order for him/her to record and preserve in the file cabinet of county records for future generations to enjoy.

Usually, I will nod my head in agreement like an intellectual attending a lecture, which he/she does not understand, and will never comprehend. Or I will just walk away, because questions or compliments using the word, "hot" to describe someone who is physically beautiful are fucking stupid. They also make the speaker look fucking stupid. Which means that the person who was humping the air a few minutes ago is a fucking liar. Because he/she is never going to get laid. Because he/she will never walk up to the hottest girl in the valley, and say, "You are the hottest girl in the valley!" Which is why they are talking to me about it in a secluded corner or on a lonely bench or in the next room, outside her earshot.

FUCK THAT SHIT! 

Here are some synonyms for the word, "hot":

Seductive

Addictive

Voluptuous

Ravishing

Poisonous

Potent

Symmetrical

Attractive

Stunning

Picturesque

Magnificent

Enlightening

Heavenly

Radiant

Comely

Sublime

Alluring

Exquisite

Cute

Ideal

Intoxicating

Fascinating

Astonishing

Breathtaking 

Pretty

Viral

Wondrous

Beautiful

Feel free to add more.

Cybernated Therapy Sessions #3

Insert status symbol (here) if you need to express your social or economic prowess to your "friends" because they need to know how cool and successful you are. Because you're insecure and need validation. It's all about the validation. Afterwards, kill yourself. Rip a page out of your autobiography and slide it across your throat until the skin splits and forms a bloody smile. Because it's the only way for you to realize that the human body isn't composed of designer jeans, diamond earrings, VIP concert tickets, muscle cars, high-end vodka, paychecks, smart phones, careers, and college diplomas.

An Elederly Deli Customer Offers To Give Me Psychological Advice While Ordering A Half Pound of Cooked Ham

The other day, a short elderly lady with a cute, but very wrinkly face, asked me to slice her a half a pound of cooked ham.

"Any preference on how that is sliced?"

"Very thin."

I told her, "I'll do my best," looking straight into her blue eyes.

She smiled.

"If you don't, I tell you what the hell is wrong with you!"

 I cut each slice extra thick on purpose and moved it onto the scale.

She shook her head, pulled a pillow out of her purse, placed it on the counter of the deli case, and told me, in a reassuring voice, to "relax, lie down, and make yourself comfortable."

And I did.

She proceeded to inform me of all my chemical imbalances and psychological deficiencies, as I explained my past and present staring into the stained drop ceiling.

I got up, bagged her half pound of extra thick cooked ham, slapped the price sticker on it, handed her the bag, and she walked away, pissed, towards the bread aisle.

We really shared a moment together.

And I'll never forget it.

Honestly.

a survival guide for people who are shopping at a deli

Be cordial. Nice. Patient. Understanding. Don't get anal over your cheese being sliced to thin, or how it looks in the bag or if it's a little over/under weight. Also don't get pissed at us if we don't know where the pop tarts or chicken liver is because that's not our department—we're confined to a fifteen foot corridor for over seven hours each day. Last, refrain from using the phrase, "This is a SALE!!!" in a sarcastic context, then complaining to the deli clerk over the price. Complain to our CEO's, or the lunch meat company CEO's, or the cheese company CEO's that create the prices.


Most of us get paid 40 cents above minimum wage (except an extra dollar on sunday.) And we carry knives and box cutters on us at all time. ALL THE TIME. 
Just remember anyone can snap and kill you in a multiple of ways at anytime, anywhere. But if you follow these guidelines at a deli you should survive and avoid any cases of biological warfare which could arise from improper deli etiquette.