I should probably get used to the heat. Due to my lifestyle choices I can believe in Christianity as much as I want but I feel like if I were to OD at any given minute and I got to the gates they would be like, naw man sorry. "But wait, I totally believed in you the whole time!" That makes you worse, at least all the other sinners thought they were worm's meat.
Fuck.
But unfortunately for you I'm not dying anytime soon because the worst always live the longest. That said, it is hot as shit in Hollywood today. Hot to the point where my thighs are breaking out in heat rash and my balls are no longer sweating because my body is out of moisture...that's dry heat homey. August is pretty shitty right? It signifies the end of summer which is sad, even though that doesn't really mean anything anymore. It will still be 72 degrees in Venice all day every day, and football season will be here, that's great, but there's just an inherent sadness to the end of summer. Not like I'll be losing some awesome summer fling, losing some intern fuck buddy...in fact hopefully it will cool the fuck down so that when I'm running my pledge-esque PA errands in Hollywood, I can do so without risk of heat strokes.
Quick side note: The 3 worst places in the world to wake up are as follows. In ascending order...3) You wake up in bed with an ugly girl that has vomited on you in your sleep. 2) You wake up in prison sans a jail buddy and you badly have to take a shit. Not fun to drop logs in front of an overweight gay man and have him critique your ass wiping skills. 1.) Waking up in a tent in 100 degree heat hungover. Nothing is worse, not even facial ringworm is worse than waking up in an unshaded tent at 6 in the morning with nowhere to run to or hide.
I have just reversed my stance on summer, fuck you I'm over it. I think people get hung up on seasons a lot. Back in the day I used to subscribe to the theory that you had to go balls to the wall during summer because it was nice out and that was not to be taken for granted. Even controlling (that's science bitch) for the fact that I live in a climate that never changes, even the midwest is kind of pissing on the old idea of seasonality. What did you have 3 cold days last year? It was 50 during the Super Bowl in Indianapolis? The truth is, using summer as an excuse is just a coping mechanism that people use to do what it is they really want to do, it's called rationalization.
For example, you are a chick that works in consulting, it's a Wednesday and you call your girlfriend and lament about how much fun it was to go to karaoke night when you first graduated college. "Remember we would go out until one in the morning and get blitzed and then stumble into work a little late on Thursday either drunk or hungover from the night before, wasn't that fun? Let's do it tonight." So what happens is you both say, well summer is almost over and you go out and get slammed by some Boston College bro on the last week of his internship and you chalk it up to summer antics.
Girl in example one may think that her whacky Wednesday is a once in a while type affair and is really "so unlike her" but when you lean on the crutch of excuses, it turns out, you really are a slut that likes to party midweek, even if you don't do it often, you want to, and there is nothing wrong with that. It' just what gets you off.
The big reveal is that people are going to find excuses for their borderline amoral behavior and questionable decision making because to say "I felt like getting fucked up and finding a dick" is generally frowned on by society. Unless you are someone comfortable in their own skin such as myself, it may seem a bit nerve racking to publicly declare your debauchery without a reason for it. What are we celebrating? What is the special occasion? What commemorative event are we honoring? Not enough people say, I'm going to get drunk and have sex tonight because I'm a human being and it quells my physical, social and mental needs. I for one am still impressed that the human body goes to sleep and wakes up...No big deal, I just pressed the of button for 8 hours and then without flipping a switch I miraculously turned myself back on.
When you are young you have the luxury of doing whatever the fuck you want. That's the excuse I'm going to run with until I'm 30. Some people may find it disconcerting that I'm still acting like a 19 year old Sophomore living in a party room, but at least I don't rationalize my existence. I'm probably not going to change the world, unless I release some novel that wakes the world up to generation Y's narcissistic and nihilistic leanings. I assure you I am not trying to shove my MFA down your throat, I am simply trying to put across to you the bleakness that I live in and how few a fucks I give.
The truth is, I am going to Santa Monica pier tonight for a beach party. The reason being is that I have no responsibility in this world to anyone but myself and it's going to be fucking awesome. No excuse, just my own selfish reasoning. Work your summer hours, get it while the getting is good, but even after the vernal equinox feel free to rage, and when your uppity friends give you a questioning "really how old are you" look tell them to get on their fucking face and eat a dick. There's my Ayn Rand Objectivism for the day, my self centered hedonism is my biggest asset.
No comments:
Post a Comment