Monday, August 2, 2010

Bitching is the best stress reliever

 Probably the worst thing to the human body is stress. It wears down the mind, body and the soul. It takes years off our lives and makes what time we have here on Earth hard and mostly unrewarding. Now I have heard for years about good stress, how some stress*like exercise* is good for the body. But, in my opinion good stress normally means hard work with rewarding payoff. Exercising is good for the body yes, but if you work out for three months and diet (honestly torturing yourself) and still haven’t reached a goal, you feel angst and very disappointed, and most of us give up. That is stress that we all know. Doing something that we honestly wouldn’t do if we didn’t expect a outcome, but most of the time we bust our asses and throw our spiritual and mental health down a spiral only the get less than what we put in.  Its like when your boss tells the company that they are not giving raises for the next four years, and that to save money they will cutting hours, laying off employees and cutting pay of the employees that don’t get laid off. So now the stress that you originally were used to, that you have grown accustomed to, that you just almost maybe gotten used to, is now a new deformed creature of gigantic proportions that attacks your entire being like cancer. Now instead of just having to do your normal job and worry about normal stuff like bills and shit, you now have fear to contend with.  Now you work harder and you are most cautious about how  the big wigs at work think of you.  You fear that if you don’t bust your ass a thousand times harder, you will be cut out like the others, out on the street, really suffering and really stressed. Your bosses are now bigger dicks than ever, because they now have one more up on you, before it used to just be money and you had to really fuck up to get fired, now the littlest mistake, the smallest fluke and your ass is gone, because the company cant keep people who aren’t team players and all that stupid bullshit.  But your doing all this extra work, for less money, less of an outcome, less of an reward and more harassment by the neo Nazis of supervisors you have because of these economic hardships. You have a million things going on your mind constantly, and it becomes nearly impossible to relax. All those things you used to do to relieve stress becomes stressfull themselves. Your newly found “free time” with less pay got you at wits end.  People at work complain constantly about what they would do to make the company better, which gives you some relief when you get a chance to throw you two cents in. Bitching is the best stress reliever. To verbally say what is killing you and have an audience to cheer you on, makes the pain almost worth it.  At work you tell your co-workers, who before were just nameless acquaintances how cluttered your work space and are now your war buddies) about how much the boss is nothing more than a reincarnated Hitler without the personality.  He barks orders, goose steps around, and scares the hell out of everyone when he comes around. People don’t look him in the eye and don’t speak unless spoken too, and when they do they talk to him like he is Jesus. O that bastard. He probably did the layoffs on purpose, just for more power. The sadistic fuck, torturing people who have to do this mind numbing, physically destroying and soul eating labor to keep their families surviving. The anxiety that comes from the sound of his hateful, distant voice as he tells you to work harder, faster and reminds you that there are millions of people out there that would kill to have your fucked job, has you biting small chunks of your tongue as your desperately want to tell the bastard to go fuck himself.

               See that’s the problem. We are quick to tell others with in our common hate group about how fucked up are stressor are, but not the stressors.  Sure if you tell your boss to go fuck himself the outcome won’t be too productive, but one a brief moment you are the coolest fucking person on the planet to you and your coworker. Your stress leaves for a while*till you are shit-canned* and a small percentage of that million ton weight drops off*of course now you are unemployed*. But the point is bitching does not solve stress, it relieves.  Stress is like the sun, the moon, or cancer. Its always been around, it will always be around and there aint much you can do about it. But bitching is the one thing you can do to help cope with all the things that suck in the world. If you cant fix it, bitch it. Its easy to do, because we have been doing it since day one(I mean we are come in to this would screaming and crying).
  Only problem I have with bitching, is that there are some people who bitch too much. Even when there is no reason to bitch.  People, who live for the sole purpose to hate life, should die. Bitching is only effective when its about shit that you have very little to no options about handling.  However if you just hate life and the only joy you have is to drag others down to your level you should become a shift manager at Wendy’s or kill yourself. I mean face it there’s not much of an option.  And, all the people that have had a misfortune of knowing you will remember you by bitching about all the stupid things you had done.

Monday, July 26, 2010

Introducing Mr. Monday

Sup, and welcome to the first installment of Mr. Mondays. When my wife first asked me to do this, I had no idea why. I have no knowledge what so ever about crafting, scrapbooking, sewing other than the first two are messy and the last one is loud. But, she reassured me that she was just looking for a male prospective to place in her blog.  That really all I have to do is just rant and rave, or bitch, about how much things in life are great (Sex, videogames, the band Rush) and how much they suck(work, responsibility, pretty much anything that requires me to wake up before 10:00 am).  I first think that this will be easy, because hell there is  a gazillion(rough estimate) blogs out there of people just like me, and just like you, who write about their views on life, their opinions, their life ambitions and blah, blah, blah. See it is easy to write a blog, because hell everyone does, the hard part is making it interesting enough for others to read.  That’s the problem, how can I, a mild mannered capitalist slave make my own neanderthal ideas appealing to those with more well lived and better educated minds than my own. What past life experience can I display over the world wide intraweb that will not shame and embarrass me or someone close to me or result in criminal charges(what happens in the back alley behind Denny’s, stays in the back alley behind Denny’s).
                Well I guess the first thing I could do is talk about myself. I am a southern poorly mis/under-educated 20+ year old who sees the whole world through the big bubble formed by the talkin’ movin’ picture box. I grew up around music, be the classic and southern rock from my dad, R&B and country from my Mom, and heavy metal from my cousins. My whole family was a musical family, my dad played guitar and was viewed like a shaman. Basically if you wanted your right of passage, it was not to graduate high school, go to college to get some degree and the get some career with said degree, no it was to learn how to play “Swamp Music” by Lynyrd Skynyrd before you are 12 on the guitar, and my father was the one you learned it from.  For me it was the summer between 8th grade, going to 9th grade.  I had a cousin who was about 2 years older than me, and he had asked my dad to teach him how to play. I got kindly jealous that my father (who by his own drunken proclamations claims that “Eric Clapton aint got shit” on him) was teaching my cousin so I decided to take lessons too. The first song we learned was “House of the Rising Sun”, after I learned that I took to the guitar like a crack head to crack ( I know there’s better metaphors but that’s the one I went with and I stand by it). Come to present day and I am a self proclaimed guitar hero (Clapton apparently ain’t got shit on me either) and proud owner of 9 guitars, and the collection could grow any day.
                Aside from crack like guitar addictions, I also am a comic book geek. Yes Batman is cooler than Superman, no I am not crazy and yes I can kick your ass. Comic books practically taught me how to read, and WRITE!!! apparently. I am not however the guy who collects comic books, leaves them in cellophane prisons and banishes them on a shelf and try to kill anyone that tries to read them. I see them as art and literature, and good art and literature should be seen and read.
                Lastly, I am the luckiest guitar addicted comic book geek in the world; for I am married to the greatest woman on earth, and the greatest crafting, scrapbooking and loud ass sewer on the face of the planet. I am very proud of what my wife has done and proud of what my wife creates daily!  At first when she told me, (while I was deeply asleep) that she was going to devote her time to creating dresses and jewelry, I was slightly interested. But now after all the money she has made, I am a rich stay at home husband in our house in Miami and I have a small army of shitzu’s at my command. But seriously, I see that this makes my wife happy, for those of you who don’t know her, she works hard on every order, maintains the website, the blog and still has time to be the best wife since Marge Simpson.
                So I don’t know if I’ve actually said anything of any value, or even gave a hint of what the blog Mr. Monday will be, because I really I don’t know what I am supposed to be talking about. But I promise my next blog post will have a topic, with a coherent beginning, middle and end. AND will be somewhat entertaining instead of a colossal waste of time. 
-Dylan