Crap on toast, both Futurama and Ugly Americans are done for the season. Now what the crap do I stream on Thursday evenings when my insomnia is getting to me?
Trying to get life sorted out here is difficult, compromising, and often times, downright scary.
I think tonight requires me making some meatball sandwiches, perhaps? Yes, those sound like they might be soothing. With heaps of mozzarella atop them.
Little brother, well, littlest brother, is absolutely fed up with college. After two weeks. HA. Withdrawing and heading off to Pittsburgh to make a life down there. Cannot say that I blame him in the least. College is one of the most pathetic song and dance institutions in this world. I personally find that intelligence comes from your own personal experiences and interests. Trying to shove information in your brain that will never be relevant to your life seems like such a waste, unless, of course, you're the type of person that just enjoys collecting knowledge. Which, naturally, is myself, but not in a school environment, it seems too controlled, too contrived, too scheduled. For nearly all intents and purposes though, college is just a great way to pile on a heap of debt to keep kids locked, hook line and sinker into fucking shit ass banks for life. Fuck that noise. Fuck this country. Fuck your failed corporate oligarchy. Give us our god damned lives back thanks. Quit making new fucking jobs that people don't want, and quit sucking up to the businesses/institutions that do nothing but poison this world.
Freedom comes from lack of bonds to others.
Lack of employment.
Lack of financial institutions.
Lack of government.
Lack of laws.
But, don't go telling anyone else this news, they'll just label you a terrorist and have your ass fucking thrown in jail for daring to speak out against the 'freedom' this 'great' nation provides.
Fuck you, you fucking liars. We're not free, we're just under much sneakier, underhanded bondage now.
Friday, September 9, 2011
*yawn*
Day eight thousand and four hundred of insomnia.
You know what? I actually wish that wasn't an exaggeration. It's two thirty in the morning. I just got done laying in bed since a few minutes past one a.m., in yet another feeble attempt to acquire sleep. What is it about us insomniacs that sets us apart from others? And I don't mean those casual insomniacs who think missing two or three regular nights of sleep a month counts *cough* *cough* my mother *cough*, but legit people who simply cannot obtain any normal sleeping patterns, no matter what sleep aids they take, nor sleep hygiene practices they use?
Not sleeping might just be one of the most horrible things I can imagine. Sure, a lot is worse when it happens, but the mass majority of those worse things are short term. Insomnia, in my case, and those similar, is something that you battle with over the course of many years. The constant struggle with exhaustion, both physically and emotionally is bad, naturally, but that's not really the big issue. The big issue is when, after going so very long without proper sleep, that your body simply starts to degrade faster than those that are well rested on nearly all occasions. Wearing and wasting of muscle tissue, joints, aching tendons, nervous disorders, weight problems, irritability, not to mention stupid sexual side effects, because you can't help but lose interest in everything when you never feel refreshed.
Oh what to do? I'd smoke more pot, but of course, that's not in accordance with financial supplies right now, and, of course, I'm sick of the stupid, ignorant, fucktards in 'charge' (and their pharmaceutical overlords) and their baa'ing followers claiming it's horrid for you, thus causing far too much negative stigmas to make it worth me running the risk. Tried benzo's. Yay more nightmares. Tried other tranquilizers. Yay more nightmares. *sigh* I wonder, I truly truly wonder if I will ever see 3rd and 4th wave sleep again?
You know what? I actually wish that wasn't an exaggeration. It's two thirty in the morning. I just got done laying in bed since a few minutes past one a.m., in yet another feeble attempt to acquire sleep. What is it about us insomniacs that sets us apart from others? And I don't mean those casual insomniacs who think missing two or three regular nights of sleep a month counts *cough* *cough* my mother *cough*, but legit people who simply cannot obtain any normal sleeping patterns, no matter what sleep aids they take, nor sleep hygiene practices they use?
Not sleeping might just be one of the most horrible things I can imagine. Sure, a lot is worse when it happens, but the mass majority of those worse things are short term. Insomnia, in my case, and those similar, is something that you battle with over the course of many years. The constant struggle with exhaustion, both physically and emotionally is bad, naturally, but that's not really the big issue. The big issue is when, after going so very long without proper sleep, that your body simply starts to degrade faster than those that are well rested on nearly all occasions. Wearing and wasting of muscle tissue, joints, aching tendons, nervous disorders, weight problems, irritability, not to mention stupid sexual side effects, because you can't help but lose interest in everything when you never feel refreshed.
Oh what to do? I'd smoke more pot, but of course, that's not in accordance with financial supplies right now, and, of course, I'm sick of the stupid, ignorant, fucktards in 'charge' (and their pharmaceutical overlords) and their baa'ing followers claiming it's horrid for you, thus causing far too much negative stigmas to make it worth me running the risk. Tried benzo's. Yay more nightmares. Tried other tranquilizers. Yay more nightmares. *sigh* I wonder, I truly truly wonder if I will ever see 3rd and 4th wave sleep again?
Wednesday, September 7, 2011
Birds of a shitfeather flock together, Randy.
Part deux of my annoying fucking self-serving blog!
Glad to see you could make it to the encore. I actually wasn't even sure if I'd manage to be able to put together a second act, but, here goes, eh?
I was tempted to write more 'about me' in this one, however, that would be no fun. Then you assholes would actually expect some sort of linear writing from me, yet, if you know me in the least, my brain does not function in said manners.
I think today will be a musing about something or other.
Perhaps even humor.
Something most people lack. Or, if they do have it, it's far too often a contrived amalgamation of bullshit or gratuitous self-degradation. I have found myself on many an occasion to be sitting with others either at home or at a theater watching something that is a supposed 'comedy,' only to find myself bored to tears and completely unamused, whilst most others in my presence are laughing themselves silly. And, then I realize, as usual, it's not just about the content, but how said content is presented. These people can't figure out that there's far more to 'comedy' than just saying words that are funny. It needs to be displayed in a manner that makes it amusing. If you need proof, look at the best stand up comics of all time. Look at Carlin, take a look at Hicks, Chappelle, Jim Carrey, Williams, Pryor, et. al. Those motherfuckers had stage skills like few others. Facial expressions and body language are where true humor is found. But far too many of these comedy 'actors' are stiff to the point of being wooden, their body language is more annoying than amusing, and the humor is utterly lost on people that actually enjoy things that are funny. So, my advice to comedians is this, work on your fucking delivery, or get the fuck out of the business. OK? Thanks.
And that, good folks, is my compacted rant for the evening!
Half a great fucking night, assholes! =)
Glad to see you could make it to the encore. I actually wasn't even sure if I'd manage to be able to put together a second act, but, here goes, eh?
I was tempted to write more 'about me' in this one, however, that would be no fun. Then you assholes would actually expect some sort of linear writing from me, yet, if you know me in the least, my brain does not function in said manners.
I think today will be a musing about something or other.
Perhaps even humor.
Something most people lack. Or, if they do have it, it's far too often a contrived amalgamation of bullshit or gratuitous self-degradation. I have found myself on many an occasion to be sitting with others either at home or at a theater watching something that is a supposed 'comedy,' only to find myself bored to tears and completely unamused, whilst most others in my presence are laughing themselves silly. And, then I realize, as usual, it's not just about the content, but how said content is presented. These people can't figure out that there's far more to 'comedy' than just saying words that are funny. It needs to be displayed in a manner that makes it amusing. If you need proof, look at the best stand up comics of all time. Look at Carlin, take a look at Hicks, Chappelle, Jim Carrey, Williams, Pryor, et. al. Those motherfuckers had stage skills like few others. Facial expressions and body language are where true humor is found. But far too many of these comedy 'actors' are stiff to the point of being wooden, their body language is more annoying than amusing, and the humor is utterly lost on people that actually enjoy things that are funny. So, my advice to comedians is this, work on your fucking delivery, or get the fuck out of the business. OK? Thanks.
And that, good folks, is my compacted rant for the evening!
Half a great fucking night, assholes! =)
Oh fuck it, I say.
So, the wife began a blog. And it's pretty damned good, too. But she keeps telling me that I need to have one of these as well... Seriously? Toby write a blog? Or, for that matter, Toby write at all? Sure, if your desire for reading encompasses disjointed, chaotic, spewing forth of mindless(numbing) banter that makes absolutely no sense, than fine. Here I am, now feebly attempting to write a blog for the very first time in my life. Which is somewhat amusing, since I've been here on this stupid internet for very near twenty years now. I've been a net peon since my youngest brother was born....he just started college, if that puts things into better perspective. What shall I feed this blog's first post I wonder? Well, a bit of life history/about me might be entertaining or whatnot, correct?
Sureeeee. Toby.
Born March 28th, 1976. Some lame coastal Canadian city, known as Halifax, Nova Scotia.
I've moved a few times since then.
New York (31 address changes there). Kansas (2 address changes) Vermont (1 address change) Maine (1 address) Nova Scotia (3 address changes) Italy (1 address change).
Getting the point? I've lived a few places.
Here. There. Some other locations. I've liked some (somewhat), and disliked others (a whole lot).
But all this moving about has done a few things, in conjunction with my inability to cope with being around people my entire life. I've gotten to observe a LOT of folks in the natural environments. And this has given me a very unique perspective towards humanity. There's some good out there, yes, however, sadly, most of humanity is selfish, self-absorbed, egocentric, mildly (to completely) narcissistic, full of hate, full of pain and repulsion. The old cliche we've all heard countless times is that no man is an island. I must wholeheartedly disagree with that. From what I have seen, most people thrive on isolation. Being alone while being surrounded by others. Our society as a whole has a completely shitty time communicating with one another.
I'm also a whore for food. Not just food, but food. I love to cook it, eat it, don't really give a shit about savoring it much, I just love, love, love eating. There is some sort of otherworldly joy I get with just consumption of food. But of course, now that I'm fucking fat, I absolutely hate myself pretty much every time I even think about eating, let alone actually partaking in the task.
Well, more about me will come at a later date, I suppose, but for right now, I totally ran out of interest in typing, and alas, it's 2 am, so I should seriously consider going to bed in the next two hours or so, so I can get at least 45 minutes of sleep. Fuck life. I hate my useless sleeping pattern. Good night whoever reads this.
Sureeeee. Toby.
Born March 28th, 1976. Some lame coastal Canadian city, known as Halifax, Nova Scotia.
I've moved a few times since then.
New York (31 address changes there). Kansas (2 address changes) Vermont (1 address change) Maine (1 address) Nova Scotia (3 address changes) Italy (1 address change).
Getting the point? I've lived a few places.
Here. There. Some other locations. I've liked some (somewhat), and disliked others (a whole lot).
But all this moving about has done a few things, in conjunction with my inability to cope with being around people my entire life. I've gotten to observe a LOT of folks in the natural environments. And this has given me a very unique perspective towards humanity. There's some good out there, yes, however, sadly, most of humanity is selfish, self-absorbed, egocentric, mildly (to completely) narcissistic, full of hate, full of pain and repulsion. The old cliche we've all heard countless times is that no man is an island. I must wholeheartedly disagree with that. From what I have seen, most people thrive on isolation. Being alone while being surrounded by others. Our society as a whole has a completely shitty time communicating with one another.
I'm also a whore for food. Not just food, but food. I love to cook it, eat it, don't really give a shit about savoring it much, I just love, love, love eating. There is some sort of otherworldly joy I get with just consumption of food. But of course, now that I'm fucking fat, I absolutely hate myself pretty much every time I even think about eating, let alone actually partaking in the task.
Well, more about me will come at a later date, I suppose, but for right now, I totally ran out of interest in typing, and alas, it's 2 am, so I should seriously consider going to bed in the next two hours or so, so I can get at least 45 minutes of sleep. Fuck life. I hate my useless sleeping pattern. Good night whoever reads this.
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