Thursday, January 28, 2010

Confessions of a Lazy, Fat-Assed Fuck

Monday morning was like Spring here in North-ish Central Joisey. Not in the flowers-are-blooming-birds-are-singing-bees-are-buzzing-so-let's-fuck-like-bunnies sense of Spring (i.e., the "good" sense); but in the it's-raining-an-inch-an-hour-outside-and-has-been-doing-so-all-night-and-shows-no-sign-of-letting-up-and so-but-then-even-tho-it's-55-degrees-outside-in-January-it-still-feels-cold-and-for-the-first-time-in-my-life-I-don't-even-feel-like-fucking sense of Spring (i.e., the "less good" sense).

Now, I like Spring1. It is quite possibly my favorite season. When Falls rolls around, the people you know - co-workers; friends; family members; other bloggers - will all be rushing to tell you how much they lurrrrrrve the Fall. And I guess those people are entitled to their opinion. But by the same token, I'm entitled to mine.

And it is my considered opinion that all of those people are fucktarded.

Because what season comes immediately after Fall?


And those same fucktards people will all then be falling over themselves to tell you how much they loathe Winter - and for some very valid reasons. Not the least of which is that Winter is the season in which pert-near everything on Earth dies. I don't understand how people can be so in love with the season (i.e., Fall) that is Winter's - Death's - harbinger. And what I don't understand, I feel the need to label, which is my way of making sense of the senseless.

And so I label these people fucktards.

I feel much better now. You?

Because Spring also has nice weather, just like Fall; the big difference being that as Spring progresses, the days get better; whereas Fall's weather gets worse and worse, colder and more miserable, with each passing day; Fall is the inexorable march toward the entropic heat death of Winter. Fall is nothing but Winter's handmaiden.

Not to put too fine a point on it but ... Fall is Winter's dirty, pox-ridden, meth-addicted, two-dollar whoo-wer. Sure, you enjoy riding her ... at first ... till that day a few weeks later when you wake up to that excruciating burning sensation in your dick when you pee.

Spring would never give you an STD!

But my point is, it was like the bad kind of Spring on Monday, with the rain and all2, and I woke up with my head swimming because a lot of the time, when the seasons change (especially from Summer to Fall and from Winter to Spring), any illness I get typically manifests itself as vertigo; sometimes vertigo-plus-other-symptoms, but vertigo for sure, it seems3. And so on Monday, my head was swimming so badly in the morning, thanks to the weather, that I felt nauseous and the room seemed to be swaying back-and-forth and I did fuck-all in terms of any exercise and I just called out sick from work because I didn't think I could even drive.

By Tuesday, I felt well enough to go to work, but any sudden moves of the upper body still brought on head rushes and room-swayage; so I didn't run that day, like some kind of goat-fucking pussy.

And then yesterday - Wednesday - I also did nothing and the head rushes and feelings of room-swaying were almost totally gone, so there was no excuse. Just the creeping lazy fat-assery that comes with giving myself permission not to exercise for two days in a row. To make matters worse, yesterday they had a retirement luncheon for a woman in the Cataloging Dept4 and I ended up eating like 5 pieces of Chicken Marsala, and then couldn't stop eating the whole goat-fucking afternoon.

I was a total Fat-Ass.

This morning, at least, I managed to get in a 4.65-mile Kankle Run before the snow started. Managed a pretty decent time, too, considering.

The transition back to (nominal) Winter did not exacerbate5 the vertigo- which was nice.

Now to attempt to stem the eating ...
THE Publishing Event of The Spring:

Due in June, I think.

Promises to be even better than fucking a goat.
1 By which I mean actual Spring, not these fucked-up random warm days in January.

2 Yeah and but so now, as I type these words, it's Thursday morning and fucking snowing here in Mid-ish Central Joisey, where I work, and it took me like a fucking hour to make my normally 40-minute commute to work.

3 And if the phrase "for sure, it seems" strikes you as in some way contradictory, GO FUCK A GOAT! Because I meant it to be. So don't bother telling me to fix it because I don't take grammatical advice from goat-fuckers.

4 Most libraries call their cataloging department "Technical Services", which is what ours used to be called till like 2 years ago when the TS foax decided to re-name their Department "Acquisitions and Cataloging" because they felt that was a better description of what they actually do back there. So now they go by the truly ugly moniker Ac-Cat. And their chosen mascot is a cat, of course, because this is a library, after all, and Everyone Knows Librarians Love Cats, and my library is not about to overturn any Librarian Stereotypes.

I think they should have chosen a goat, but had they done that, someone probably would have fucked it. Whereas the cat is still a virgin. Pffttt!  Pussy!

5 If you ever feel the need to fuck a goat, consider exacerbating instead. Because even though exacerbation is also a sin, it's not as bad a sin as goat-fucking.

Worst sin: fucking a fucktarded goat. Totally unforgivable.

1 comment: