Loading ...Why Do I Even Bother?
By Evan ~ June 5th, 2007. Filed under: lists, rant.
I just returned from Amoeba, where I picked up the new Shellac record and spent the equivalent of a week’s worth of food on records I can’t even listen to until I have my turntable shipped here (or I buy a new one…). Nice going, Evan.
If you’re seeing this for the first time, this entire week is dedicated to my frustrations with life. Each day I will present a new list of observations I’ve made that I find irksome. Each one relates to one of those pesky incidents that continue to arise no matter how hard you try to distance yourself from it. The goal is to have you comment once you reach the end with an entry of your own. What makes you ask yourself the following:
Why Do I Even Bother? – Things that we do for no apparent reason and generally serve no purpose whatsoever, but we are compelled to continue doing so for the foreseeable future. Why? Well, if I knew the answer, I wouldn’t keep doing it.
- Buying Anything: I’m going to be perfectly honest with you. 100% real. You will never read anything this serious ever again on this website. Do you want to know a secret? I’m very, very cheap. I don’t even like going to the market for food. It’s all wasted money to me. I don’t know what I’m saving up for, but it’d better be worth it.
- WFAN: What kind of moron has the limited mental capacity to sit in front of a radio for five hours a day listening to two blowhards going back and forth about area sports teams? Me. My kind of moron. Especially during baseball season. My day get sucked into this black hole and before I know it its 4pm and I hate myself and I haven’t gotten anything done. That’s every day of my life from April until October.
- Seeing New Movie By Director “X”: They’re never as good as you romanticize them to be. Take Kevin Smith for example. What the hell happened there? I don’t remember losing respect for an artist of any kind quicker than I did with that guy. And shut up already with your tour of colleges where you talk about celebrity run-ins for nine hours.
- Reading Pitchfork: It’s comedic at this point. I’ll read a review of an album when I’m feeling blue just so I can be uplifted by the inanities spouted by the staff writers. To experience sheer, unbridled joy, I like to read old interviews conducted by the head guy, Ryan, the most useless person ever.
- Job Search: It’s not like I’m going to find anything I like.
- Making Jokes: People don’t understand them, and then when I try to explain myself I get nervous or stutter a lot. They’re excellent jokes, too. That’s the sad part. All of them, even the ones that seem stupid.
-Blogging: Nobody cares and I’m not getting any money for it. Yet I continue to devote a solid fifteen minutes of my day to this.
- Talking to ‘Boomers: You can’t fit a word in, ever. You have to sit there while they tell about what life was like when they were your age, and how now everything is different and they don’t like it anymore than they did then. Meanwhile, they’ll continue to naively drive up the cost of living to the point where their children or grandchildren are going to have to struggle just to eek out a living. Thanks a lot, fuckers.
