Why is it that I continually force myself to do things that I do not enjoy, just to see if I've changed my mind about them? Is it peer pressure? Am I really that convinced that, just because someone I respect enjoys these things, I should feel the same way? Or is it just that I'm always looking for something else to enjoy? Maybe there's a certain degree of pretension in it--that I don't want people to know that I don't like something because I'm afraid that I'm the one schmuck who can't see the Emperor's lovely new wardrobe. Regardless of the cause, here are some of those things I keep trying out, in spite of the fact that I KNOW already that they are just NOT to my taste:
1. Cadbury creme eggs. They just look sooooo good on the commercials, and the sound effect of the clucking bunny always made me extra crazy for a creme egg; there has to be subliminal advertising at work there (buckbuckbuckBUY!buckbuckbuckBUY!). Why is that a bad thing? Because I think they're nasty. Over and over, they are nasty.
2. Christianity. What an appropriate association to make: Creme eggs = Christianity. They're so alike for me. And in fact, I feel like the Cadbury bunny when I try to blend with Christian culture; it just plain isn't my bag. It's not how I think; it's not my worldview; it's not historically or factually accurate, and until a branch of Christianity is able to practice unconditional love and the same acceptance, tolerance, ethics, and wisdom that its central prophet so passionately advocated, then I'm going to stick to my own version of immortality--one that doesn't require me to define myself by which portion of the population I exclude from the privilege of eternal life. And don't even get me started on the concept of hell. If there is one, then the god who thought THAT shit up can just keep his followers and all the gruesome consequence of living a rational existence, rather than one based on senseless following of ancient, obsolete edicts.
3. Marriage.
4. Children.
5. See 3 and 4, and stop telling me I'll change my fucking mind.
6. Pot. Every time I get high these days, my lungs feel like someone is searing them on a grill, and then I simply feel generally uncomfortable with my own brain, my own skin, and my own surroundings for the next six hours. It kills pleasure.
7. Anal sex. Just wondering if you've read this far. Is she kidding? Who knows...
8. Birth control pills and brain candy. Fuck anything that manipulates my serotonin and my dopamine or makes my tits hurt constantly and sends me into hell-bitch mode every other day. Xanax? Okay, but only on special occasions.
9. Woody Allen. I watched another Woody Allen film the other night, and you know what I realized? I don't care if it DOES make me a bad intellectual or if it gets me flung off of the film buff wagon forever. I get tired of listening to that snivelly, neurotic cunt run his mouth incessantly. There is nothing cute about people who can't shut the fuck up.
That is all. Here are the things I give up on...
...at least for now.
1. Cadbury creme eggs. They just look sooooo good on the commercials, and the sound effect of the clucking bunny always made me extra crazy for a creme egg; there has to be subliminal advertising at work there (buckbuckbuckBUY!buckbuckbuckBUY!). Why is that a bad thing? Because I think they're nasty. Over and over, they are nasty.
2. Christianity. What an appropriate association to make: Creme eggs = Christianity. They're so alike for me. And in fact, I feel like the Cadbury bunny when I try to blend with Christian culture; it just plain isn't my bag. It's not how I think; it's not my worldview; it's not historically or factually accurate, and until a branch of Christianity is able to practice unconditional love and the same acceptance, tolerance, ethics, and wisdom that its central prophet so passionately advocated, then I'm going to stick to my own version of immortality--one that doesn't require me to define myself by which portion of the population I exclude from the privilege of eternal life. And don't even get me started on the concept of hell. If there is one, then the god who thought THAT shit up can just keep his followers and all the gruesome consequence of living a rational existence, rather than one based on senseless following of ancient, obsolete edicts.
3. Marriage.
4. Children.
5. See 3 and 4, and stop telling me I'll change my fucking mind.
6. Pot. Every time I get high these days, my lungs feel like someone is searing them on a grill, and then I simply feel generally uncomfortable with my own brain, my own skin, and my own surroundings for the next six hours. It kills pleasure.
7. Anal sex. Just wondering if you've read this far. Is she kidding? Who knows...
8. Birth control pills and brain candy. Fuck anything that manipulates my serotonin and my dopamine or makes my tits hurt constantly and sends me into hell-bitch mode every other day. Xanax? Okay, but only on special occasions.
9. Woody Allen. I watched another Woody Allen film the other night, and you know what I realized? I don't care if it DOES make me a bad intellectual or if it gets me flung off of the film buff wagon forever. I get tired of listening to that snivelly, neurotic cunt run his mouth incessantly. There is nothing cute about people who can't shut the fuck up.
That is all. Here are the things I give up on...
...at least for now.
VIEW 19 of 19 COMMENTS
Every year I buy a bag of candy corn...completely forgetting that the year before I had sworn to never touch that God-forsaken crap ever again.