Happy New Year! Yes, I know we’re already into February, but that doesn’t mean it’s not the New Year. According to the Chinese calendar, the New Year started this past Sunday, February 18th. You did know this right? I mean, the Chinese only had the most powerful and dominant culture on the face of the planet for over 800 years. They had armadas capable of taking on every European power contemporary to them. And I bet you thought they only invented fireworks and ate with chop sticks.
So how did you spend your Chinese New Year’s Eve? You probably weren’t doing the same thing you were on the Gregorian New Years. I know I wasn’t. On December 31st I was a huge loser and didn’t go out or do anything. But this time around, I decided to go out and enjoy myself, which, of course, means copious amounts of alcohol. Hey, what did you think I was going to do? It’s New Years.
In celebration of the New Year, I joined a group of my Asian friends and headed out to downtown Raleigh. If you haven’t had the chance to get to know an Asian person, then let me tell you a few things about them. They like to gamble and they like to drink, a lot. Yes, I know it’s stereotyping, but anyone who likes to booze as much as I do and play poker as much as I do is perfectly ok by me. As far as I’m concerned, most Asians are good people.
We ended up going to Five Star, an Asian themed restaurant right in the heart of downtown. The restaurant stays open for late nights as a night club, and of course, they were all ready to go for the New Year. Or at least I thought they were going to be. When I showed up around midnight, the place was packed with white people. Now, being a white boy myself, I shouldn’t have a problem with that. But here I am, in an Asian restaurant/nightclub on the eve of the Chinese New Year and I’m surrounded by white people. I’m sorry, but I was just a little weirded out by that.
On the plus side it made my friends that much easier to locate. Once I found everyone, I learned the reason why the majority of the people there were not minorities. There was a cover band playing at the time that was supposed to finish up at 12am and let the DJ take over. But all of the white boys kept insisting that the band continue to play. Which for me wasn’t a big deal. That is, it wasn’t until the band played a cover of Aretha Franklin’s I Will Survive. Now don’t get me wrong, Aretha sings a pretty good tune, but this cover was awful, it was truly an insult to my eardrums. The worst part, however, was that all the white boys started jumping up and down and singing along.
Now I know by the stroke of midnight most of those guys had probably imbibed in enough alcohol to knock out a full grown horse, I’m sure. Still, that doesn’t excuse singing along to a crapped out rock version of a classic R&B song. Stupid white people.
Ok, enough with the racial partition. I’m not really sure I’m qualified to talk about that anyway. Luckily enough, the band eventually had to leave and the DJ was able to take over. Originally he began playing some recent hip hop hits, but later in the night he began to play some old favorites. Now, I’m not huge into rap and hip hop. That was always my older brother’s thing. I usually prefer the rock and roll. Hey, I’m a white boy, what’d you expect? But I do enjoy a lot of the older, classic R&B and hip hop.
As the place started to clear out, leaving a mostly Asian group behind (plus me) the DJ started playing such favorites as Boyz II Men, Blackstreet, and Cypress Hill. My friends moved to the dance floor and I adjoined to the nearby sofa to mouth off the lyrics I hadn’t heard in ages. Needless to say, I didn’t bother to get up and dance. Let me assure you, there’s a very good reason why. It’s as much for your benefit as it is for my own. Trust me, you don’t want to see me dance.
Back in college I was given the most wondrous opportunity to watch a video tape of my drunken self attempting to dance. I should probably thank my college buddies for goading me into dancing while I was severely inebriated and then recording it for all prosperity. But considering the fact that they make fun of me even to this day at every conceivable chance, I don’t think “thanks” is the word I’ll be using. Suffice it to say, I keep off the dance floor. Besides, I’m white, I’m not supposed to be able to dance.
Now knowing how my friends are, that they like to take shots throughout the night (many, many shots), and knowing that I had a much longer drive home than anyone else, I decided to be a complete and totally weenie. And you know what, I’m ok with that. I bought one drink and nursed that baby for the entire night. But my friend Kim decided I was going to take shots with her, and she wouldn’t take no for an answer. Well, not that I’m in the habit of saying no to an incredibly attractive girl who’s trying to get me drunk. Still, I attempted to put up a fight. Well, I sort of put up a fight… for a minute. Ok, maybe it was more like thirty seconds. Did I mention before that I was a complete and total weenie?
It was to no avail however. Not only did Kim manage to get me to down two shots of whiskey (I refused to drink tequila with her), but several other people forced various other forms of alcohol on me as well. It didn’t help that we knew the bartenders working that night and they were very persistent in goading us to buy more booze. Needless to say, everyone in my group was having a good time.
As the night wore on, several of the helium filled balloons that were stationed against the ceiling of the building began to float effortlessly down to us on the floor. But with only a sharp poke to the bottom of the party favor, the balloons would majestically levitate back up to join their brethren. Now, knowing that the balloon fell from its initial perch I realized that it was running low on helium. I began to wonder how little of a force was needed to get the inflatable back up to the ceiling and exactly how long it would be before gravity was able to counteract that force and bring the balloon back to the ground.
It was about that time I realized that I was being a huge nerd. And I blame this squarely on my family. Heck, I don’t even like physics. But if you grew up in my household, this sort of stuff would have brushed off on you too. My dad and brother were both mechanical engineering majors in college, my uncle runs a shop that machines industrial tools, and my grandfather flew airplanes in the Air Force briefly before joining the FAA. At Christmas time, we sit down to play some cards and I end up listening to discussions on thermodynamics and other such scientific hullabaloo. That’s about the time my brain cells start shutting themselves off in boredom (there’s a reason I didn’t follow in my family’s footsteps). And my parents wonder why I keep a fifth of bourbon at their house year round when I only visit for a scant two weeks during the holidays.
Finally, the end of the night came, the DJ turned off the music, and we were all forced to leave. You usually get the feeling you’re not wanted when people are cleaning things up all around you and stealing away the sofa you were sitting in just five minutes prior. I’d like to think I’m subtle enough to pick up on those clues. As we left Five Star, my friends suddenly began asking me over and over again if I was ok to drive home. Sure, they try to force drinks down my throat all night, then they worry if I’m ok to drive. I understand totally. Ok, maybe I don’t. Anyway, I had less than four drinks in a two and a half hour period, and on a full stomach, so I was more than ok to get the job done. Even then, I had to promise Kim I’d send her a text message to her phone when I got back safe and sound. I’m willing to bet she was fast asleep before she ever got that message, but at least I know my friends care about me.
So that was my New Years, and I hope you had a great one as well. Oh, and in case you didn’t know, it is now officially the Year of the Pig. According to the Chinese zodiac pigs are gluttonous animals that enjoy the carnal pleasures in life. So yeah, I think I’m going to enjoy this year.
Wednesday, February 21, 2007
Wednesday, February 14, 2007
Maybe Life is Like a Ride on a Freeway
I’m driving down the interstate, rain is pouring down all around my car, the traffic has slowed to a 55 mph crawl (hey, for the interstate, that’s slow). I just finished playing Black Hole Sun by Soundgarden (which seemed appropriate at the time) and now I was listening to the final seconds of regulation for the UNC vs. Virginia Tech basketball game. Things were starting to get just a bit stressful.
Maybe I should explain better. After watching the Carolina Hurricanes win over the Los Angeles Kings, I had to drive back to my place in Chapel Hill. I was already hyped up from a very physical and close scoring hockey game, so my nerves were a bit on edge. The rain was pouring all around me making it very difficult to drive. I wanted to turn on my rear windshield wiper to clear up the view in my rear view mirror (yes, I drive a station wagon, feel free to laugh at my expense), but then I remembered that the back windshield wiper no longer works. It’s a safety feature. See, the button for the back windshield wiper is hard to locate on the dashboard so I would have to take my eyes off the road for a few seconds to find it. And taking your eyes off the road is just plain unsafe. I should thank my car’s manufacturer for designing my car to meet such rigorous safety standards.
The stress continues to pile up. The road conditions, listening to the boys in baby blue not quite finishing off the game the way they should, the two and a half beers I consumed during the hockey game… it all adds up. I should let it be known that being stressed out is a bad way to drive. Luckily for me, I’m a safe driver. I made it home in one piece and without incident. Unluckily for me, the UNC game went into overtime.
And, as you already should know, UNC lost it in overtime and were swept in both games this year by Virginia Tech. The boys in blue let me down. So that’s why I’m right here, on a Tuesday night, sitting in front of my computer, drinking beer and attempting to write in semi-proper English, which is not an altogether easy task, let me assure you. Ah, beer, you’re my one and only true friend.
Well, that isn’t entirely true. See, I didn’t exactly buy my tickets for tonight’s hockey game. A friend of mine was kind enough to give me a spare she had. It was pretty much a last minute thing, and it is nights like tonight that make me proud to have a near non-existent social life. Hey, if I wasn’t going to the hockey game in person, I would be watching the game on TV anyway. Luckily for me, Andrea was nice enough to take me to the game so I could watch it in person.
Being the nice guy that I am, and we all know how nice I am to women, I took Andrea out to dinner before the game. Hey, if she’s cool enough to take me to a hockey game, I can treat her to dinner. Let me recap for a second just for your benefit: I had dinner with an attractive girl and then she took me to a hockey game. This, my friends, is what we call a win-win situation. Well, not quite as good as winning the lottery then being named the sole heir to Hugh Hefner’s estate, but still, it’s pretty damn good. And Hugh, if you’re reading this, I still expect you to leave me the Playboy Mansion in your will.
So, that was my Tuesday. It was pretty eventful, all things considering. And today, Valentine’s Day, probably won’t be nearly has eventful. I won’t be having dinner with any beautiful women tonight, nor will I be watching any collegiate or professional sporting events. I usually boycott Valentine’s Day because well, as far as I’m concerned Valentine’s Day was invented by the De Beers family. You know the De Beers, they’re the people who basically have cornered the international diamond market. They’re the reason why you have to spend three month’s salary on a shiny, semi-ounce rock that otherwise has no rational value.
If you don’t believe my conspiracy theory about this love-sick holiday, then simply turn on your TV. If you don’t see at least two commercials for jewelry during every commercial break, then I’ll give you 100 carats worth of quarters (which is probably just one quarter… possibly two). But you know what, you really should go out and buy your loved one lots of presents. If you don’t spend a crap-ton of money on your favorite female, then it shows that you don’t love her (1 crap-ton = 100 short tons). Love is indubitably tied to gross materialism.
Don’t let the circuitous media fool you, love isn’t some all-prevailing romantic force. Simply put, love is money. Although, as a quick disclaimer, I feel the need to inform you that I was the guy who spent his entire college career trying to marry into money. Let me tell you, marrying a wealthy chick is a lot harder way to get rich quick than I thought. Seriously.
As far as I’m concerned though, love is money. In fact, I love money. Every night when I go to bed, I curl up with a 100 dollar bill and caress it as I fall asleep. It is my one, my only, my everything. Now if it would just hurry up produce a couple hundred more bills just like it, I’d be one happy and content man. The man who coined the term “money can’t buy happiness” most assuredly was poor. I know that I would be happy if I had one million dollars… actually, ten million, I’d be happy with ten million dollars. Well, you know what, we’d better make that an even 100 million dollars, just to be on the safe side. If I had 100 million dollars, I’d be one of the happiest men alive.
But unfortunately, I don’t have quite that much money right now. I don’t even have the Playboy Mansion either. Apparently, I don’t have much. What I do have is another three beers in the fridge that aren’t going to drink themselves. Hey, the Tar Heels lost today, I’m entitled to my booze. But hey, life could be a lot worse. I could be a Duke fan. What are they ranked again? Oh, that’s right, they’re not ranked. Sucks to be a Duke fan.
Maybe I should explain better. After watching the Carolina Hurricanes win over the Los Angeles Kings, I had to drive back to my place in Chapel Hill. I was already hyped up from a very physical and close scoring hockey game, so my nerves were a bit on edge. The rain was pouring all around me making it very difficult to drive. I wanted to turn on my rear windshield wiper to clear up the view in my rear view mirror (yes, I drive a station wagon, feel free to laugh at my expense), but then I remembered that the back windshield wiper no longer works. It’s a safety feature. See, the button for the back windshield wiper is hard to locate on the dashboard so I would have to take my eyes off the road for a few seconds to find it. And taking your eyes off the road is just plain unsafe. I should thank my car’s manufacturer for designing my car to meet such rigorous safety standards.
The stress continues to pile up. The road conditions, listening to the boys in baby blue not quite finishing off the game the way they should, the two and a half beers I consumed during the hockey game… it all adds up. I should let it be known that being stressed out is a bad way to drive. Luckily for me, I’m a safe driver. I made it home in one piece and without incident. Unluckily for me, the UNC game went into overtime.
And, as you already should know, UNC lost it in overtime and were swept in both games this year by Virginia Tech. The boys in blue let me down. So that’s why I’m right here, on a Tuesday night, sitting in front of my computer, drinking beer and attempting to write in semi-proper English, which is not an altogether easy task, let me assure you. Ah, beer, you’re my one and only true friend.
Well, that isn’t entirely true. See, I didn’t exactly buy my tickets for tonight’s hockey game. A friend of mine was kind enough to give me a spare she had. It was pretty much a last minute thing, and it is nights like tonight that make me proud to have a near non-existent social life. Hey, if I wasn’t going to the hockey game in person, I would be watching the game on TV anyway. Luckily for me, Andrea was nice enough to take me to the game so I could watch it in person.
Being the nice guy that I am, and we all know how nice I am to women, I took Andrea out to dinner before the game. Hey, if she’s cool enough to take me to a hockey game, I can treat her to dinner. Let me recap for a second just for your benefit: I had dinner with an attractive girl and then she took me to a hockey game. This, my friends, is what we call a win-win situation. Well, not quite as good as winning the lottery then being named the sole heir to Hugh Hefner’s estate, but still, it’s pretty damn good. And Hugh, if you’re reading this, I still expect you to leave me the Playboy Mansion in your will.
So, that was my Tuesday. It was pretty eventful, all things considering. And today, Valentine’s Day, probably won’t be nearly has eventful. I won’t be having dinner with any beautiful women tonight, nor will I be watching any collegiate or professional sporting events. I usually boycott Valentine’s Day because well, as far as I’m concerned Valentine’s Day was invented by the De Beers family. You know the De Beers, they’re the people who basically have cornered the international diamond market. They’re the reason why you have to spend three month’s salary on a shiny, semi-ounce rock that otherwise has no rational value.
If you don’t believe my conspiracy theory about this love-sick holiday, then simply turn on your TV. If you don’t see at least two commercials for jewelry during every commercial break, then I’ll give you 100 carats worth of quarters (which is probably just one quarter… possibly two). But you know what, you really should go out and buy your loved one lots of presents. If you don’t spend a crap-ton of money on your favorite female, then it shows that you don’t love her (1 crap-ton = 100 short tons). Love is indubitably tied to gross materialism.
Don’t let the circuitous media fool you, love isn’t some all-prevailing romantic force. Simply put, love is money. Although, as a quick disclaimer, I feel the need to inform you that I was the guy who spent his entire college career trying to marry into money. Let me tell you, marrying a wealthy chick is a lot harder way to get rich quick than I thought. Seriously.
As far as I’m concerned though, love is money. In fact, I love money. Every night when I go to bed, I curl up with a 100 dollar bill and caress it as I fall asleep. It is my one, my only, my everything. Now if it would just hurry up produce a couple hundred more bills just like it, I’d be one happy and content man. The man who coined the term “money can’t buy happiness” most assuredly was poor. I know that I would be happy if I had one million dollars… actually, ten million, I’d be happy with ten million dollars. Well, you know what, we’d better make that an even 100 million dollars, just to be on the safe side. If I had 100 million dollars, I’d be one of the happiest men alive.
But unfortunately, I don’t have quite that much money right now. I don’t even have the Playboy Mansion either. Apparently, I don’t have much. What I do have is another three beers in the fridge that aren’t going to drink themselves. Hey, the Tar Heels lost today, I’m entitled to my booze. But hey, life could be a lot worse. I could be a Duke fan. What are they ranked again? Oh, that’s right, they’re not ranked. Sucks to be a Duke fan.
Wednesday, February 07, 2007
I’m Wasting My Time Again
It was not a good weekend. I’m not ashamed to admit (although maybe I should be) that I cried myself to sleep on both Saturday and Sunday night. And believe me, it was not a pretty sight. Over the course of those two days UNC basketball, the Carolina Hurricanes, and the Chicago Bears all lost. It was a sad, sad time.
And if you must know, I flexed my baking prowess once again this weekend. I made some White Chocolate Chip Macadamia Nut Cookies and some Spinach and Artichoke Dip. My friends that I watched the UNC basketball game with promptly made fun of me. That didn’t stop them from eating the cookies though. Apparently, they were delicious, which shouldn’t be surprised since I just plain don’t make crappy baked goods. But to add insult to, well, insult, the girls present also made fun of me for being capable in the kitchen. And they promised to buy me a nice pink and frilly apron. Luckily for me, I don’t wear the damned things. Aprons are for nancy-boys.
So yes, it was a bad weekend all round. But that can all be changed tonight. Tonight is the Raleigh Llamas sixth game of the season. For those of you who don’t know, the Raleigh Llamas is the beginners’ league team in the Raleigh Adult Hockey League which I happen have the pleasure of playing for. We currently boast a 1 - 4 record and lead the league in the fewest penalty minutes served. Hey, at least we lead the league in something.
Why the Raleigh Llamas? Well, because it vaguely sounds like the Dalai Lama. You know the guy, the spiritual and political leader of the Tibetan people. He personifies compassion, wisdom, and faithfulness. And this is exactly what our team is not. Last season our team captain was ejected from our final game (with only five seconds remaining on the clock) for arguing with a referee. If I learned one thing playing sports, it’s that you can never win an argument with a ref, especially when they don’t mind giving you a 10 minute game misconduct with only five seconds remaining in the entire season.
Tonight is a big game because we are playing the only team in the league that is ranked beneath us. This is a must win game. If we win, we move up into sixth place (out of eight teams). If we lose, we drop to eighth place. I can’t speak for the rest of my team, but I don’t exactly aspire to be last place team in the bottom beginners’ league. That’s just one of those things that makes me want to cry myself to sleep. And honestly, I’ve done more than enough of that lately.
I’m also excited for tonight since we will be getting our new uniforms. We’ve been wearing our old standard royal blue “Wings” uniforms for the beginning part of the season (we just recently changed our names to the Raleigh Llamas). It only took nearly three months to get our jerseys in. I mean, I can order a Carolina Hurricanes jersey online and have it here within two days. Waiting half a season for new team jerseys seems perfectly reasonable. Well, perfectly reasonable by 19th century standards anyway. Well if you want to take a look at the coolest damn hockey jerseys ever, just click on the Raleigh Llamas link over there in the links section.
So you all know I’m obsessed with hockey (well, I’m obsessed with sports in general, but I actually play hockey, so yeah, I’m even more obsessed with that), but there are plenty of other things I do in a given day that don’t revolve around the sports world. In fact, I have so much to do, it’s a wonder I ever get anything done in one particular day. I’d like to think of myself as an expert when it comes to time management. Or more accurately, time-waste management.
If there is one thing I’m good at, it’s finding applicable ways to waste time. It’s kind of a super power I have. Well, no, I wouldn’t say it’s a super power. Pissing off women is my true super power; wasting time is just a slightly more than mild-mannered hobby. But it’s a hobby I take very seriously. Take today for instance: I went out of my way to drop by EB Games so I could pick up a copy of Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney. It’s a courtroom drama type game for the Nintendo DS that I have heard very good things about. But seeing as how I have a backlog of games I have yet to finish, there was pretty much no reason to pick this game up.
So why’d I go out of my way to buy it? Well, I haven’t bought a video game for myself since before Christmas. It’s been almost two months now, and that’s a long time for a video game junkie to go without buying something. What can I say, I need my fix. Luckily I do have a fragment of self restraint. The game has remained unopened, lying on my coffee table for most of the afternoon. Let me assure you, if I had opened the game, I would never have found the time to write this article. As far as I’m concerned, that means I’ve been productive today.
Besides video games, there are plenty of other useful wastes of time for you to engage in. Watching TV, shopping, or even listening to music are all the usual mundane time killers. But that’s old school. This is the 21st century. We have all new ways to take up your meaningless time. The internet itself is a huge tool designed just for this purpose. You can get online and chat away with friends over your favorite instant messaging software, or you can read some of the many web-published comics or you can even read some blogs. If you’re really inclined, you could read the entire backlog of my own blogs. But really, if you have that much free time on your hands, you’d be better off doing something more exciting. Like getting your nails done.
Of course, you can always get on Myspace. Plenty of people use it as their preferred waste of time from any other online site. I must confess, I too have a Myspace account, although I really can’t understand why, I barely use the thing. If you may recall, I’m not exactly fond of the mass majority of humanity. They have a tendency to annoy me. Just to humor you, let’s just check out what I have waiting for me today on my Myspace account. In the messages folder I have “Meet Horny Myspace Singles” and “Meet Hot Myspace Singles” and “10000 Dollar Scholarships.” Yes, thank you for restoring my faith in humanity Myspace.
Well, I’ve probably wasted enough of your time already. I would prefer to waste more, but really, I have an unopened video game laying on my coffee table and a hockey game at 9pm. I have so much to do that I sometimes think my life is just too stressful. Usually when that happens, I open another bottle of bourbon. Alcohol: the ultimate waste of your time.
And if you must know, I flexed my baking prowess once again this weekend. I made some White Chocolate Chip Macadamia Nut Cookies and some Spinach and Artichoke Dip. My friends that I watched the UNC basketball game with promptly made fun of me. That didn’t stop them from eating the cookies though. Apparently, they were delicious, which shouldn’t be surprised since I just plain don’t make crappy baked goods. But to add insult to, well, insult, the girls present also made fun of me for being capable in the kitchen. And they promised to buy me a nice pink and frilly apron. Luckily for me, I don’t wear the damned things. Aprons are for nancy-boys.
So yes, it was a bad weekend all round. But that can all be changed tonight. Tonight is the Raleigh Llamas sixth game of the season. For those of you who don’t know, the Raleigh Llamas is the beginners’ league team in the Raleigh Adult Hockey League which I happen have the pleasure of playing for. We currently boast a 1 - 4 record and lead the league in the fewest penalty minutes served. Hey, at least we lead the league in something.
Why the Raleigh Llamas? Well, because it vaguely sounds like the Dalai Lama. You know the guy, the spiritual and political leader of the Tibetan people. He personifies compassion, wisdom, and faithfulness. And this is exactly what our team is not. Last season our team captain was ejected from our final game (with only five seconds remaining on the clock) for arguing with a referee. If I learned one thing playing sports, it’s that you can never win an argument with a ref, especially when they don’t mind giving you a 10 minute game misconduct with only five seconds remaining in the entire season.
Tonight is a big game because we are playing the only team in the league that is ranked beneath us. This is a must win game. If we win, we move up into sixth place (out of eight teams). If we lose, we drop to eighth place. I can’t speak for the rest of my team, but I don’t exactly aspire to be last place team in the bottom beginners’ league. That’s just one of those things that makes me want to cry myself to sleep. And honestly, I’ve done more than enough of that lately.
I’m also excited for tonight since we will be getting our new uniforms. We’ve been wearing our old standard royal blue “Wings” uniforms for the beginning part of the season (we just recently changed our names to the Raleigh Llamas). It only took nearly three months to get our jerseys in. I mean, I can order a Carolina Hurricanes jersey online and have it here within two days. Waiting half a season for new team jerseys seems perfectly reasonable. Well, perfectly reasonable by 19th century standards anyway. Well if you want to take a look at the coolest damn hockey jerseys ever, just click on the Raleigh Llamas link over there in the links section.
So you all know I’m obsessed with hockey (well, I’m obsessed with sports in general, but I actually play hockey, so yeah, I’m even more obsessed with that), but there are plenty of other things I do in a given day that don’t revolve around the sports world. In fact, I have so much to do, it’s a wonder I ever get anything done in one particular day. I’d like to think of myself as an expert when it comes to time management. Or more accurately, time-waste management.
If there is one thing I’m good at, it’s finding applicable ways to waste time. It’s kind of a super power I have. Well, no, I wouldn’t say it’s a super power. Pissing off women is my true super power; wasting time is just a slightly more than mild-mannered hobby. But it’s a hobby I take very seriously. Take today for instance: I went out of my way to drop by EB Games so I could pick up a copy of Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney. It’s a courtroom drama type game for the Nintendo DS that I have heard very good things about. But seeing as how I have a backlog of games I have yet to finish, there was pretty much no reason to pick this game up.
So why’d I go out of my way to buy it? Well, I haven’t bought a video game for myself since before Christmas. It’s been almost two months now, and that’s a long time for a video game junkie to go without buying something. What can I say, I need my fix. Luckily I do have a fragment of self restraint. The game has remained unopened, lying on my coffee table for most of the afternoon. Let me assure you, if I had opened the game, I would never have found the time to write this article. As far as I’m concerned, that means I’ve been productive today.
Besides video games, there are plenty of other useful wastes of time for you to engage in. Watching TV, shopping, or even listening to music are all the usual mundane time killers. But that’s old school. This is the 21st century. We have all new ways to take up your meaningless time. The internet itself is a huge tool designed just for this purpose. You can get online and chat away with friends over your favorite instant messaging software, or you can read some of the many web-published comics or you can even read some blogs. If you’re really inclined, you could read the entire backlog of my own blogs. But really, if you have that much free time on your hands, you’d be better off doing something more exciting. Like getting your nails done.
Of course, you can always get on Myspace. Plenty of people use it as their preferred waste of time from any other online site. I must confess, I too have a Myspace account, although I really can’t understand why, I barely use the thing. If you may recall, I’m not exactly fond of the mass majority of humanity. They have a tendency to annoy me. Just to humor you, let’s just check out what I have waiting for me today on my Myspace account. In the messages folder I have “Meet Horny Myspace Singles” and “Meet Hot Myspace Singles” and “10000 Dollar Scholarships.” Yes, thank you for restoring my faith in humanity Myspace.
Well, I’ve probably wasted enough of your time already. I would prefer to waste more, but really, I have an unopened video game laying on my coffee table and a hockey game at 9pm. I have so much to do that I sometimes think my life is just too stressful. Usually when that happens, I open another bottle of bourbon. Alcohol: the ultimate waste of your time.
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