fuck this job.com

New friends from work who get to know me are quite astonished when they find out I spend most of my free time alone. Everyone thinks I am this great socialite who is always working a function somewhere. Yeah, I am working a function all right... I am making a great effort to enjoy the very limited time I have away from all the stinky people I meet in the casino. That is my function.

If I am not in the Fun Room banging away on the bass or the guitar, I am at the park climbing rocks. No, don't ask to come with me and then tell me to slow down to a pace where you can keep up. If I am not climbing rocks, I am fucking wife #1 or wife #2 or possibly both at the same time - and, no, I do not wish to be interrupted with another phone call from you, who can't make an executive decision, something I have expressly empowered you to do without fear of punishment for making a bad decision - which you will probably make anyway - in spite of my advice (and so, what the fuck do you ask me for anyway, dink?). Goddamnit, give people everything they ask for and they still can't make up their fucking minds.

It's my time, assholes, get the fuck off my ass and leave me alone for a couple of days, will ya?

I bought a new house in another part of town and I am moving this weekend. I told them all: "If the phone rings this weekend, goddamnit - it better be important." I have never said anything like that before to any of the crew. We have been working together long enough now that we know what needs to be done and that we know how to do it. Let's don't be assholes over this, my only chance to move without a hassle, and call me to run down there for some stupid bullshit. Do I call you over any one of your completely undisturbed weekends and ask you for help? Fuck, no. Have I ever done this to you - even once? Fuck, no. Well, please don't do it to me just this once, this weekend.

Do ya think they got the point? Only time will tell.

You know what causes most of the health problems in the world? Answer: a bad attitude coupled with inertia. Let's face it, if you take a swig every time you pick up a bottle, you can't do your aerials. Let's face it, if you go jogging after midnight in a black sweat suit - you are flirting with disaster. If you smoke like a stack and bite your fingernails too - something is out of whack in your skull. Use your fucking noodle. Life is just a game, and you aren’t going to be here forever. Make the rest of it up yourself.

No wonder people are dropping dead of heart attacks at the age of thirty. It’s not because they smoke or eat too much red meat. It is because they are all sitting on their asses, crushing their own vertebrates with the dead weight of their oversized McDonald’s and Burger King built bellies and becoming paralyzed with nerve damage. No wonder their hearts can’t pump blood - they don’t get off their asses and get excited about something and do something about their miserable little lives. I know I would have collapsed long ago if I thought like that. Hell, I might collapse anyway, but it sure as hell won’t be because I wore my own ass out while sitting on it waiting for a handout.

The world be damned if that is what it must do. The world don‘t evolve around me, I know; believe me, I know. If it did, I sure as hell wouldn’t be here.

Anyway, I certainly have the bad attitude, but no inertia and no lack of firepower here, Folks. My philosophy is this: got a bad attitude? Great. Use it to your advantage.

A friend of mine, a photographer, forgot his camera bag the other night. He left it sitting on the kitchen table. The top of it was open, exposing a bag of… oh!, what’s this?… MARIJUANA?! Guess what I am doing this weekend, Folks? That’s right, after the move tomorrow, I am going to hit the slopes next day and listen to some Van Halen while I smoke a joint! Put that in my “Team Member File”.

Cheers.

Little Nicky