What? Our government LOST 190,000 guns? In Iraq? Aren’t those expensive? Yes, yes they are. That is $19,000,000,000 worth of weapons. And we wonder where all these terrorists and insurgents get their weapons… This is over half of all the small arms given to Iraqi soldiers. Read the entire article here.
Apparently incompetence is the American government’s greatest skill.
I dislike assholes. A lot. For many, many reasons. But I’m curious how they can do succeed more than a genuine person. First of all, let me clarify what I consider to be an asshole.
An Asshole: A person that has few or no morals. They lie, cheat, steal, use others, take advantage of people’s kindness, and generally have selfish + malicious intent in their day to day lives. They’re first and only concern: themselves.
Now, why don’t I like them?
I don’t like assholes for many reasons. Aside from the ethical hole they have in their soul, they always seem to find a way to disrupt my life. It’s frustrating to see someone who’s obviously a douche bag succeed through lying, cheating, and stealing. I refuse to sacrifice my own ethics and principles to lower myself to they’re level, but from a (very) vain level it still sucks.
Especially when you see some asshole with a beautiful girl, and your first thought is “how?” followed closely by “god I hope she’s a bitch”. Frustrating? Yes- when most girls admit they go for the asshole. I have always wondered, is it the challenge? This guy treats you like shit, so you have to prove to him that you deserve more? Prove it by finding someone that has more to offer sweetie, get off the sinking ship that is his life.
On a vain level, I admit I’ve been jealous of assholes. They always seem to have nice stuff: cars, money, women, etc. But that’s about all they have. I remind myself they have all those possessions to try and fill the void they have. That void seems to be a lot of different things, from security in themselves to the love of another. So at the end of the day, I pity them. Too bad they will never try for anything more than their next lay or a nicer car/house/boat. I want nice things to, but so that I can enjoy with the people I know and care about, not just to prove something to the world.
Wow, I’m kinda bitter.
Check out some of my other musings at strikeyourcolors.com.
Last night was a travesty.
Johnny called me at 8:30 to ask me to come help him out, he had ran out of gas on I-205. I am always happy to help a friend, but this incident pushed me to the edge of both my sanity and composure. It wasn’t anything Johnny did (his stories of 16 year-old’s always entertain), just my already poor mood being tested by half-autistic gas station attendants and terrible road signs.
I drove out to Gresham- a place that ranks just next to Salem on my “I-would-rather-be-shot-in-the-kneecap” scale- already in a bad mood. My mood was not improved after the third gas station attendant looked at me with his non-lazy eye like I was crazy asking to borrow a gas can. One of them told me he’d sell me gas, but I couldn’t use his can. When I asked him what he thought I should use to transport said gasoline, he looked thoughtful (this brought him from “complete inbred” to “second to last place at the special olympics”).
“Well, I guess you could use a milk jug, you’d have to drink the milk though. HAHAHAHA.”
His laugh was something between a screech and a hiccup. It ground every last remaining nerve I possessed. I asked if they had a can I could buy, they did- for $5 dollars.
Now I discovered the true reason I got a phone call from Johnny- he had no money.
I payed for my newly acquired can of gas and the gallon inside of it, and went to my car cursing the world and everything in it. Thank god I had a towel to stifle the leaking petrol and the fumes, now my car will only smell like it for a week instead of a month.
At this point, I was furious. Furious with everything that had happened to me that day, week, month, and year. Furious with friends that take advantage of another’s kindness, with liars, with those that won’t do a damn thing to change what they claim to hate. Furious with myself for not just giving them the middle finger. Furious with every car on the road. Furious with myself.
I drove like a fucking crazy, daring anyone to get in my way. Johnny knows me well enough to keep his mouth shut in this situation, I can verbally undress and whip a person like few others. Unbeknownst to me, the street I was on didn’t connect with any of the exits that would take me Johnny’s abandoned car. When I made this discovery, my mood went even further south- at this point nearing the pole.
We drove for probably 20 minutes before getting back to Johnny’s car, and by this time I was cooled down. I don’t stay angry long- I talk myself through these things very well. Replacing that anger was the deep sadness I’ve possessed for months now. A sadness I have had trouble harnessing and getting passed, but I am. I’ve found the best way to deal with a situation like this is to laugh at it. If I find joy within anger, I no longer am a prisoner of it. I think anger is a useful tool, within moderation, and combined with other emotions that move me away from anger and back towards a more positive outlook.
I emptied the can into his tank, got in my car and went. I have no animosity for helping a friend in need, but I don’t enjoy feeling like the only time I get a call is when that friend IS in need of something. I guess the saying is true…
“A friend in need is a friend indeed.”
First of all, I respect bicyclists in general. I appreciate that they are saving the planet by not driving, and completely support the movement away from carbon emissions. What I DON’T agree with, respect, or support are asshole bicyclists that ride down the middle of a busy street through traffic.
Bike lane? Perfect.
In front of me when I’m trying to pay attention to the million cars and people around me and going seven miles an hour? Not so perfect.
Just because you’re riding your bike doesn’t justify you making everyone else go as slow as you. And god forbid you give me a condescending or pretentious look. One thing you have to remember: I’m a LOT bigger than you. And my car weighs about 500 times more than you’re bike. And the scratch my car would receive would be well worth the satisfaction of seeing you eat asphalt.
I understand sometimes you don’t have a choice, but there’s a difference between the middle of the street out of necessity and out of proving a point. And we all know when you’re making a point by slowing EVERYONE down because you can. Well, fair biker, next time it happens I hope you’re reflexes are in good form, because you’ll have to dodge all sixteen feet of my car.
Basically: use common sense. In what circumstance would you put your body in front of an object that weighs many times more than you and is going much faster, wearing only a thin piece of plastic on your head? My first choice would not be on a busy street where the controller of this huge moving object has to pay attention to many things and can be distracted easily.
For the visually inclined:
Have a wonderful life of cheap thrills and unfulfilling actions. I hope one day you’ll actually take steps to get more. Until that day I’ll pray you don’t get any diseases or kill yourself. Have fun being the victim in all this- I know thats what you’ve made it into. You can run from everyone but yourself. But I know you’re trying REALLY hard to do that.
I’ll be praying a lot.
In this life, we can't control much. But control isn't what this life is about. My life isn't about the destination- it's about the journey. With that said, this site is a reflection of the happenings of my life.
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