Hey there, everyone, another year has come and gone. This one has sure been full of a bunch of fuckery, but let’s choose to celebrate it as it leaves...shall we? I know we have all been through some shit, at least if the meme game on that stupid website I’m not gonna name is correct. I see everyone posting shit about how 2017 or 2018 fucked them all up. I’m not sure why we all decided to blame our lives on calendars, but, fuck it... right? So, to celebrate my third edition of this amazing article that has brought us all so much joy, let’s do another one!
I don’t know why I let addiction beat me so easily, but it seems that I just can’t fucking stop looking at Facebook—mostly while I’m shitting. Seriously, though, I hate it—I hate the energy it brings into my life, I hate the platform it gives stupid people, and most importantly, I hate the fact that I love it. I already don’t interact a ton on there, but outside of my immediate, live-in family and the people I work with, it’s just about my only connection to the outside world. I suppose you could count YouTube, but that’s a one-way window—I don’t want to scroll through that stupid, fucking mess anymore. How many times do I have to get angry about some person oversharing about their shitty relationship, before I just man the fuck up and admit maybe the world just isn’t for me? So, maybe, no connection is better in the long run for me.
I am 36 years old. I now own a home, thanks to cancer killing my mom, but outside of that (and a pretty bitchin’ collection of video games), I don’t have fuckall to show for my life. It isn’t that I lack earning power, but much like the social media problem, I lack the courage of my convictions to follow through. I spend money on really dumb shit, because I’m depressed. Then, I get depressed that I don’t have any form of worthwhile plan for the future. 2019 will be the year where I get my shit together and put some serious effort into delaying my gratification, so that my family and I can own something.
In 2018, I mostly gave up my main avenue of anger expression. This year, I am going to double down on that. I not only want to continue to grow my ability to control my anger, but I want to learn to turn anger into kindness and understanding. I know that shit sounds like something someone named River would say at hot yoga, but I’m serious, man. In a world so full of hate and violence, it isn’t enough to be a conscientious objector. You have to actively spread the opposite of anger, acceptance and understanding. So, 2019 will be the year of the hippy fucking bullshit for me. Hopefully, I can come out the other side a little better for it, just like I did this past year, when I gave up calling people human garbage on the internet, because they like the wrong Power Ranger.
I keep telling myself that I will make time to work on my novel. Kind of like how you keep telling yourself that this is the year you will finally learn what a sit up is. What’s a real fucking bummer, is it’s really just an embellished version of my own real story with relationships. I don’t even have to write the fucking story—it’s all shit that really happened. I just have to sit my lazy ass down and type it. Don’t ask me why I can’t seem to manage that shit, but I’ll assume I was right the first time...I’m lazy? I suppose it could be the fear of being so exposed. I don’t paint myself with a kind brush in the book, but I wanted to tell the truth about stuff—that’s the whole point. If I didn’t want to expose myself to that, I could have written a true crime novel, instead. So, I have to return to laziness as my explanation.
I have a small fortune’s worth of good joke ideas that I haven’t been open mic’ing, because I convinced myself I wasn’t any good. The truth is, I never wanted to have the opportunity to actually fail. So, I just stopped doing it, while I was marginally successful and still getting booked. With everything going on in the world, I just have to go back to a stage, to tell people why I think it’s stupid. I owe it to myself to really, truly fail. I don’t mean for the lack of trying—I mean, stuntman style—I want to fail while I am on fire. So, I am going to start showing the fuck up, so that people can watch a grown man tell jokes about superheroes and conspiracy theories. Because, fuck you, is why. I have to live inside my head every single day. It’s my moral obligation to remind you how good you have it, by letting you peek in here for a few minutes.
