WARNING: LOTS OF READING AHEAD
The way I write has made a couple of my English teachers actually question wheter I had written a paper or had instead plagiarized it from the internet. Why? Simple. I don’t have a process.
I like them.
The word Buddy. My (most likely) number one most hated word. I can’t stand the way it rolls out of peoples mouths like we were friends and I don’t like the way it sounds. It’s right up there with “moist”. When I am trying to get the attention of someone I don’t know I do what every normal human would do; I say excuse me. This shows that I don’t know you but I respect you enough to try and get your attention instead of tapping on your shoulder or tickling your ass or something. The word buddy is very closely associated to douchebags who wear Oakleys and backwards Yankee hats.
In your daily commute I want you to make a log of people who call you “buddy” (Jersey and NY not applicable) and try and remember what they look like. They will fall into one of three categories:
If you walk up to me and say “excuse me, do you have the time?” I will courteously tell you the time and let you go on with your day but if you say “Hey yo, Buddy. You got the time?” I will stare at you like I speak Cantonese until you leave. Even if my watch is in plain sight I will stare at you like you are the only person in the world who speaks English.
Me, in response to “Buddy, you got the time?”
Buddy, in my mind, is a word people use when they have the vocabulary of a 3rd graders socks. It shows that you don’t have the mental prowess to form a sentence with words that are more than 2 syllables. Buddy is also used by one more group of people that I hate: THE FAKE FRIEND (DUN DUN DUNNNN)
I work in a supermarket, extravagant I know. Although I work in such a place I still know a lot of people. I know everyone from grunt to manager and anywhere in between yet there is always one person you can’t stand. In my case his name is “Strauss” for confidentiality.
Strauss is a low level employee seemingly loved by all but in truth no one likes him. He parades around in this odd sense of entitlement that makes him feel like top dog. Everyday I work I see him. He saunters in with his stupid grin and beams out a extravagant “Hey, Buddy!”. Every time he does that I have to hold back a spinning uppercut that would launch him into the stratosphere and pretend to say hi back or give him the “What’s up?” nod. Every time he says Buddy I develop yet another stomach ulcer capable of sinking a naval aircraft carrier yet every time I have to try and fake a smile and go on not hating my life.
Buddy should be the next word taken out of the English language and abolished from history.
WALL OF TEXT WARNING: I am in an absolute daze right now and can’t begin to concentrate on finding a picture for my post.
Today has been one of the weirdest days of my life. Not based on experiences I had but more so my mental state and consciousness. I just returned from a trip from Indiana at 12am last night and went to bed as I had to work at 10am. I woke up at 8, showered, snacked and moved out and headed to work. Usually my drive takes me 15 minutes if I do the speed limit but I found that I had somehow pulled into the parking lot with no recollection of what happened. I felt disconnected, like I didn’t belong. My extremities were almost numb and my brain had crawled to a snails pace. It was almost like tunnel vision for my whole body.
To follow along with my nightly ritual of watching terrible movies with friends we decided to watch Titanic 2. The tagline pulled me in to where I felt if I didn’t watch it my life would never amount to all it could. “100 years later, lighting strikes twice.”. I know, right? Now, let me spare you the hour and a half of pain and suffering and review this movie. (It’s might not be as coherent as you hope because I played Minecraft for 90% of the movie).
Time to introduce you to yet another one of my pet peeves. Facebook dumbasses who post statuses to pull sympathy and never explain what’s wrong. Case in point:
People that do shit like this are just the worst. If something goes wrong and you want help with it, don’t post it on Facebook for all to see and then wonder why people get pissed at you when you won’t explain yourself. It’s like walking up to a child and saying “I’ve got the most amazing secret ever, wanna hear it?” and then they freak out and go into an epileptic fit while shrieking “YES!!!” and after they’ve calmed down you turn around, flip them off, and cackle maniacally at the situation and walk into the setting sun. It’s like withholding information in a criminal investigation. I’m interested in what’s wrong, maybe not for the right reasons, but interested none the less.
As some of my Twitter followers may know I spend A LOT of time on my Xbox. In spending this incredible amount of time on XBL I encounter some very “unstable” individuals. There’s the 12 year olds, the high black guys, the loud black guys, the French, British, Japanese, Koreans, the list goes on. Basically I pay 60 dollars Canadian a year to have a direct feed to a mental asylum. I’m not saying I don’t like paying, there’s nothing more satisfying then calling a 7 year old a faggot cocksucker when I blow his brains all over the floor.