This was probably my favorite scene from the previous Olympics. Now that I don't have any TV in my apartment, I can only read the news on the Olympics and it is making me rage because I can't see any of these upset wins or hyped up matches, so I've decided to close out my news feeds and proceed to rewatch the parts of the 2008 Olympic games that I missed on youtube. FUCK YOU COMMERCIALIZATION! TAKE THAT! HAHA!
But really, I am actually watching these 2008 games with a bitter resentment, unable to enjoy any of the matches because I feel like the second child who only gets everything secondhand as everything new is pass onto the first born, or the guy at the party who gets the last go at the drunk girl after all the other guys have finished, or that dude who is sitting alone at his apartment with his cat on his lap watching the Olympics from 4 years ago because he has no means to watch the current shit that is going on.
I'm almost tempted to just drop the money and buy a fucking tuner already, but I hate commercials. I think I will just wait another 3 weeks to download all of the games in HD with no interruptions... Sigh, the sacrifices I make to hold steadfast to my miserly beliefs.
1. I went to the pet shop today for a litter scooper because my cat's litter box was turning into an ungodly pile of poop since I've long put off emptying the shit can since I got it, instead just opting to throw out the entire litter box and getting a new one, but obviously this was a method doomed to failure so I decided to opt out of it and begin reusing the litter and due to this tactic combined with my laziness, the place was starting to look like a black on black on black on black orgy.
Too much?
So anyway, I go into the pet store and because I'm extremely indecisive and analyze the shit out of everything I plan to spend money on, I spend like 30 minutes just reading labels on these wide variety of poop trowels available for me to buy and I see this one shovel that stands out to me beyond all of the rest because it is really, really huge and really, really cheap, but most importantly, really cheap.
So after spending an extraneous amount of time fascinated with how people can justify charging you $25 for something to pick up shit with due to you being provided with the latest advancements in litter grabbing technology, I opted to just go for the classic woven-style of scoopers for $7 and bought a flea collar as well because you can never have too many flea collars.
Just in case.
2. I was working out at the gym today after work and my co-worker who usually runs a 2 hour routine with me insisted on staying extra to do more work outs which I was more than happy with because I am always left unsatisfied with the routine I do with this guy, but I was very hurt when I found out that he only wanted to stay longer with me at the gym for an extra hour not because he wanted to get those extra pumps in, but because he was trying to spy on his girlfriend who recently joined the same gym and was working with a male personal trainer who, to me, looked like he was touching her unnecessarily to guide her like for example, standing behind her and pressing down on her ass to show her how to plank properly and all the while, she seemed to not mind at all.
I am certain both parties knew that the other was around, so I am left to wonder if them as a couple are ok with such things, or if she was doing it to make him jealous because she felt like he wasn't giving her enough attention, or if she was just being herself and he was working out harder than usual because he was angry at witnessing what he was seeing, but also couldn't be man enough to just turn away and let it be, since raging at the girl would only cause her to become upset since she feels it's her right to let whoever she wants push down on her ass + she would also subconsciously get affirmation that doing such actions results in more attention from her boyfriend whether it be good or bad attention (Sort of like how my cat will jump on my back to claw me when I am not giving her the attention she wants, thus will settle for being thrown across the room because she longs for the feeling of being touched).
3. To expand on that working out at the gym story a little, yesterday I was at the mall returning this jacket I bought from Express that I didn't like very much, I decided to exchange it for a shirt instead, so I end up picking out this shirt that fits me perfectly and I'm like 'Yea, this is a good buy, I am happy with this.' so as I go up to the cashier, he does the exchange for me, looks at the shirt and says to me, 'Hey, I know you think I'm just saying this, but this is a good shirt you picked out. Really, I like this shirt a lot, and I think you made a smart exchange.'
I'm like, 'Thanks. I know.'
So then we both nod our heads to one another, giving silent acknowledgement in our fine taste in men's clothing then both head in our separate directions, or at least, me in my own direction since he was still at the cash register as I left.
Today at work, I'm wearing the shirt I just got and the security guard tells me, 'Hey man, lookin' stylish! Haha!' and I'm like 'Awww yeeeeaaaa.' and then we high five each other and I go off to work. The same thing happens with my co-worker commenting on how I look particularly sharp today, and I thank him for the compliment, followed by other co-workers making similar remarks. In reality, I know it's not my hair, or pants, or anything else. It's the fucking shirt. This fucking shirt is amazing. It feels amazing, it looks amazing, it is the quintessential manifestation of the word amazing.
Throughout the day, I feel as if I am treated better by others for looking good, so I in turn start to treat them more poorly because I know that I can get away with it.
You know, people talk a lot about how one man can change the world, but what about a shirt? Why doesn't anyone ever talk about that? Maybe because they're all afraid.
Anyway, this story does infact have a tragic ending. I go to the gym, take off my shirt, and just like how Samson lost all of his mojo after that whore he was sleeping with cut off his hair, I lose my common sense and apparently misplace my shit because when I get back home, I go through my gym bag and everything is their: Pants, deodorant, gloves, towel..... except.... The shirt.....
NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
So, I search around frantically for it and figure the last place I had it on was at the gym, so I try to call them, but their lines are closed lulululul. My friend is like, 'Maybe someone turned it into lost and found. It will probably be there tomorrow.' But I just laugh at him and cry at the same time because that's like expecting someone to find a gold brick on the ground and turn it into the local police station
Yea, so buys expensive shirt justifying how he will wear it a long time so the cost is worth it, wears it for one day, then loses it. ROFL.
But seriously, I'm crying.
Yea, I know that was a terrible story, but I'm in pain right now and I want to share. Waaaa, I did something thoughtless and retarded, console meeeee. Waaaa.
Edit:
So I went to the gym today, and as expected, my shirt was not in the locker room nor was it in the lost and found. I hope whoever took that shirt knows the bloodshed that comes with it, just like the sword of Maramusa.
From bravery to compassion to deceit. Some are strong while others are not, but in the end, no matter how long of a chain you form or how strong of links you hold, when the test of life comes tugging hard at your chain, you are only as strong as your weakest link.
And for many of us, what a weak link it is that we hold within ourselves. Maybe it's better to have a little bit of consistency versus chaotic madness in your chain that swings between the extremes.
Wondering where I went wrong in life. My grease coated lips contort into an agonized frown resembling a Japanese noh mask as I scream out in the middle of the restaurant "Why god, whyyyyy?" Causing pieces of chewed food to fly out of my mouth and into my neighbors' drinks.
The entire place becomes silent due to my sudden emotional outburst and i demand a doggie bag from the waiter as a response to him asking me to leave so that I may pick up and take home my regurgitated food, walking out of this humiliating scene with the few trace scraps of dignity that still remain in my life.
When you realize some part of your life you loved is over and gone, because every time you stare at that space where the object used to be, the memories come flooding back and your heart feels empty.
The spot on the bed where a lover used to lay, the area under near the bed where a family pet used to always love sleep at, or the empty fridge shelf where a bag of Reese's pieces used to sit.
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