I remembered the strangest instance while showering today. A couple months ago while visiting the local nerd emporium, a group of three ex-dungeon masters were discussing the merits of "pussy" over video games. They seemed to have first hand knowledge of both topics, which was very disheartening. I had hoped to be the only guy who has both touched a young lady and logged in a couple hundred hours to Everquest. These chaps made me look like Brad Pitt's much better looking younger brother. Back to their conversation. Each troglodyte was very animated about the value of sex, going as far as to say it superseded even video games in terms of importance. Of course their reliance on hand gestures was problematic, the use of hairy digits to simulate nerd sex is not something one wishes to see. As I examined the memory a scary thought crept from subconscious, an idea that goes against the core of my very being. I held video games in higher esteem then "relations"

First let it be known that physical intimacy with a woman has been highly enjoyable in thepast. When available I tried to engage in it as much as humanly possible, reaching a peak of 5 times in day. But enough about my torrid love life, the issue at hand is my assertion that video games are more enjoyable than sex. Electronic entertainment provides an escape, one requiring minimal introspective thought. Usually, all that is necessary is to follow the little white rabbit while admiring the beautiful scenery.

Superficially sex follows the same guidelines. It is an escape from the mundanity of everyday life, where one experiences pleasure with little energy left to devote to thought. The problem is the before and after period. It requires immense energies and work. Doesn't matter if the act occurs during a one stand or in the 10th year of marriage. If you are a "player" all the energy is directed towards creating a false image of the self, one that impresses the object of desire, hopefully leading to coitus. Conversely a married couple spends decades lulling over the same humdrum issues, fighting, making up, making love, abstaining, etc.

I don't feel like getting into all the particulars, because my point is probably baseless. Admiringly I am single, bitter, and full post relationship angst so my vantage point is colored in such a way that it may appear alien to you.

by the way when I write "colored' it doesn't refer to darkies, redskins or albinos.

go to hell

Addendum to June 4th Log Entry

It seems I have a stick stuck up my ass as well.

Oddly enough I kind of like it.

Does that make me a butt-pirate?

Oops I did it again.

Well at least my imaginary friend, Mr. Gary Thompson, who happens to be a monkey midget, will love me no matter what filth spews from my keyboard.

I wasn't going to post today due to my fascination with becoming a 50th level werewolf wizard but something came up and needs clarified.

A friend of mine, whom I think the world of, apparently has a stick stuck up his ass today and took offense at yesterdays post. Read Tuesday's comments to catch up. Considering this is a medium where people post things with little forethought or consideration, I take very little of it seriously. As you very well know most of my entries have been stupid, asinine and downright silly. The post yesterday sparked controversy, leading someone to use the term racism. No sweat off my back. I usually don't take offense when a ridiculous charge is levied against me, especially on the internet but today is a little different.
The point of this website is to entertain MYSELF. Hopefully along the way others find little tidbits they can relate to, perhaps even laugh at. At the end of the day I write for personal satisfaction. Not everyone will like my style, substance and especially sense of humor. Their loss. But what I can't tolerate is wanton ignorance, which is the same as stupidity.

I don't have to defend my views, hell if I want to be a racist bastard; it is will within my rights to do so. But I don't. It requires constant diligence against truth, in other words you gotta act stupid all the same. Yet, racism is not limited to a dominant group discriminating against a minority. It is in fact a tool used by the minority as well. I used the term "white" man's English to be funny. If you want to get serious I am well aware that English mastery is not limited by ones skin color. Sounds like common sense right? Then again plenty of Black leaders disagree. Oakland City Schools started the disturbing trend of Ebonics. In essence they divided the language into two groups, those being urban slang and proper English. The urban variant was spoken, surprisingly enough, in urban areas by the folks who lived there. They happened to be black in most cases. This left proper English to be associated with everyone else Asian, black, white or whatever. As it happens Whites were the majority of this group, another big surprise. All this translates into Ebonics being associated with blacks, with the rest of the language falling to whites. Basically a group of radical blacks instituted a moronic program, one that was by its definition bigoted in nature. I am not sure if Ebonics still exists in Oakland or anywhere else for that matter, though the initial damage is still felt today. Standardized tests are now being targeted as being unfair to urban youths, i.e. blacks, because their insistence on using standardized English. There are plenty of valid critiques against these tests but that is not one of them. Again bigoted black leaders divided the language up. One was spoken by "white" youths, the other by "black". Both examples point out the use of willful ignorance which often translates into bigotry/racism. Rather then set down and examine why their was a language divide, they opted to promote linguistic segregation.
Of course ultra liberal white’s and blacks, who have boatloads of intelligence but very little wisdom, are blissfully unaware of this fact They see it as promoiting racial harmony and equality. A similar argument was made by Southern leaders, who happened to be racist whites, from 1870 up until a few decades ago. Their arguement was centered on seperate facilities but it translates nicely to seperate language as well.

The above paragraph is the entire reason why I am upset. My statement was meant in the spirit of humor. A white middleclass guy took it as being racist. Truth be told it is a racist comment, but only when used by supposed civil rights leaders. Not that he cares, but I am not angry at my friend's unfounded accusations. Just as he shouldn't be upset that I revealed he has a splintery rectum.


This goes for everyone

Lighten up

(By the way this is a true rant, meaning it is my mind to the page, no editing or even spell check since I am using the computer next door and am being booted off as I finish this sentence, so if it makes no sense well fuck off and if it sounds halfway lucid, it is not my fault.)

I had an interview today. After twenty minutes of Q & A, which barely required conscious thought, the human resources woman offered me the job. I had mixed emotions at her pronouncement. First, this woman was barely fit to serve me fries, more less determines my job worthiness. I should have been interviewing her if anything. Through sheer force of will I managed to suppress my superior complex and to seriously consider the merits of the job. It pays $11.00 an hour, with health benefits available the first day. There are sixteen mandatory weekend hours every month. It pays better then some jobs, like dog sitting for example, but it falls well short of my deserved income ($80,000 sounds about right). Of course I have no real world, tangible job skills so perhaps my innate sense of worth is exaggerated. Either that or everyone is jealous of my greatness and simply unwilling to acknowledge it as of yet.

The job entails collecting money from delinquent accounts, also known as milking deadbeats for their welfare money. I shadowed an employee for twenty or so minutes. He explained three job criteria. It requires sitting for extended period times with little movement. Check. Basic computer and typing skills are required. Check. One must be able to negotiate with people in a friendly and persuasive manner. Two out of three ain't bad. Based on my personal experience with credit card companies I have yet to have one communicate in an intelligent or effective manner. Hell, usually Laquisha can barely speak white man's English leading me to think the last job criterion is dubious at best. After listening on nearly three dozen phone calls I also discovered another requirement, the ability to be nonplused by perpetual rejection. Of course my dating life unique qualifies me in this aspect.

Before my job offer could be finalized it was necessary to successfully complete three steps. First I had to pass a drug test. Good thing I kicked my smack habit a few months ago. Then it is necessary to receive a written notification from job references. Since I am the HR director, i.e. the guy answers all business mail, at my dads store that step is easily taken care of. Finally, I have to pass a background check. Thankfully the whole stint as high templar of church Gog and the subsequent animal sacrifices involved are sealed in my juvenile record.

All this leads to the conclusion that I, Bob, am qualified for the job. It is menial, as most work seems to me, but believe it or not tedium has lost its allure. Lying around on my ample buttock is quickly losing its appeal. A job would me good. Maybe even encourage personal growth. Or at the least get me in good with the chubby human resource secretary who appeared incredibly desperate for male attention.

I will sleep sixteen hours on it and decide tomorrow,

in the meantime

go to hell

I came to a very valuable conclusion this morning while delivering "antique" furniture to an elderly person. Time is the most precious commodity, especially my time. Due to the ineptitude of my father/Stalin/boss I had to drive across town multiple times for an otherwise simple delivery. He had forgotten to take down the gentleman's phone number, which is problematic when you are hours late in delivering the merchandise. No about the man would be gone but to appease my father I delivered it all the same. Luckily today I had a helper, who must be Yosemite Sam's real life counterpart. And, like the beloved Warner character he is very two dimensional and lacking any intelligence whatsoever. All in all the numerous trips to and fro were a wonderful experience, slightly less agonizing then having a rusted fork inserted in your rectum. Onto my revelation.

Time is truly precious. However what you do with said time is not really important. Whether one spends it working with the handicap or stuffing their face with Taco Bell is of little consequence. What matters is controlling ones time. Choosing the tempo of the day is where the value comes from. One minute of my day is priceless. Granted several thousand dollars a week would cushion the loss, but does it really?

Let’s say you work at a company doing a job you detest and make "good" money. For simplicities sake lets say $50,000 a year, which is several thousand dollars above the national average. Also, to stay away form any moral obligations to family, you are single as well. Now imagine you are working in a boring, meaningless job that offers nothing save for a steady paycheck. You work a mandatory forty hour week, and are obligated to attend an occasional conference. Over the course of the next year you will spend at the very minimum 2,080 hours at work. Converting your salary to an hourly wage comes up with roughly $24.38 an hour. Of course this is before taxes. Using a very conservative estimate of thirty-five percent going to Social Security, Federal, State and Sales taxes you are actually left with $32,500 in salary or $15.62 am hour.

Since you have a fairly good job it is necessary to drive a reasonably nice car so you splurge a little and get a $30,000 SUV resulting in a monthly payment of circa $500.00. Full coverage insurance runs around $250.00 per quarter. Due to a horrific roommate experience in college you opt to live alone in a 1 bedroom studio apartment. Rent is $550.00 a month. Essential utilities, i.e. water, gas, and a telephone run on average $75.00 per month. To keep costs down you forgo a girlfriend and instead get the full service cable package, including high speed internet access and cinamax. Cost is nearly $100.00 a month. Obviously you need a cell phone, with lots of minutes since it is necessary to talk incessantly on the phone while driving, eating and picking your ass. The plan costs $40.00 a month. Since you are single and tired from working a long a day you order out quite a bit leading to a $300.00 monthly food budget. Due to the immense generosity of your company health/dental/eye coverage is include in your salary with relatively low co-pay. Still it does add up to nearly $500.00 per year due to your childhood addiction to an asthma inhaler.

I am going to assume you are like me and have no social life other then the occasional movie therefore your luxury budget will be paltry $700.00 a year. By the grace of God credit cards have never been an attraction so you have no high interest debt. Of course you do owe $40,000 in student loans because your parents were cheap bastards. Wanting to eliminate the debt as soon as possible you pay in $5000.00 a year. The cost for all these life essentials is $25,980. Subtract that from your final gross income and you are left with a little over $6500. Divide that up by the number of hours worked and you get $3.14 an hour. That is the real wage you earn after calculating in all the junk that comes with having a $50,000 salary.

By the way don't tell me that the above figures are inflated, because I was low balling throughout, if anything the costs should be higher.

The point of the above exercise was to demonstrate what you really get in exchange for your time. Sure a nice cushy desk job paying nearly a $1000.00 a week sounds great but don't forget the hidden costs, in particular what it takes to maintain the job. Realistically a human being could live on much less but that isn't going to happen, the more you make means the more you spend. The problem is that the ratio between time and money earned is heavily skewed in favor of time spent rather then money gained. My time is worth much more then a measly $3.00 an hour.

Then again I live off the fruit of my parent's loins

Today's lesson: Never move away from home or strive for any professional success as it is ultimately fruitless and a waste of time. In other words be like Bob.


and remember my motto

go to hell

I can't think of anything worthwhile to bitch about today. Maybe the Sabbath has rubbed off on me. Who the fucking Christ knows?

The weekend has been fairly unexciting due to my antisocial tendencies. I have read three books thus far, about to start on number four so at least it has been stimulating on a cognitive level. Of course Dean Koontz will never be confused with Hemmingway so maybe it has been a bust intellectually as well. Though I did do one thing of note this weekend. My seven year old brother let me play his new video game. Many parent groups, and quite a few high ranking politicians, i.e. Joe Lieberman, have denounced this game. I guess they think playing it will lead to antisocial, violent tendencies. Well, I am already set there so what harm could it do me. Of course my little bro shouldn't be playing it but my parents are retarded when it comes to the little hellion so what can you do.

Anyway, the first thing I decided to do in this sprawling virtual world was beat down a couple female bystanders. Then I proceeded to shoot random people as they passed by. I started to giggle. Five minutes into my virtual homicidal rampage I quietly handed the control over to my brother with a sad smile on my face. GTA Vice City is meant for mature audiences, and oddly enough that doesn't include me. Hopefully devil spawn will handle the virtual power better or at least not partake in senseless violence with such glee.



Anyway I am off to do some heavy reading.


go to hell

There is a "Strawberry Festival" downtown, near where I work, which brought out the
local yokels in full force. I joke about living in a city full of degenerate simpletons but I
always felt these folks were the exception not the rule. As usual my optimism was
unfounded. My hometown must be located at the epicenter of the ignorant poor white
trash population and/or the gates of hell.

Walking amongst the concessions stands and carnival rides was a surreal experience. I was bombarded with alien sights and sounds that could have been taken straight from a H.P. Lovecraft story. Misshapen creatures,covered in strange symbols, who spoke in guttural voices, surrounded me. Every instinct told me to escape or least I lose my sanity. I knew these "things" were not inter-dimensional monstrosities seeking global annihilation, no the truth was much worse. They were my fellow citizens, the people who shared my place of birth. Evil has many faces but its most frightening would have to be a 400 lb. drunken hick woman who was covered in prison style tattoos. She smiled at me. I knew true and absolute fear.


I have tried to fight them for nearly 23 years but perhaps it was all for naught. I live in a
trailer, am unemployed and well on my way to morbid obesity.


He who fights with monsters might take care lest he thereby become a monster. And if
you gaze for long into an abyss, the abyss gazes also into you.
Friedrich Nietzsche

I am functionally retarded when it comes to mathematics. After a preliminary interview with a Devry admissions councilor, I opted to take the entrance exam. I figured how hard could it be. The test was divided up into two parts with each having a thirty minute time limit. The English language skills and reading comprehension section was easy and took a grand total of twelve minutes to complete. I missed one reading comp. question that was improperly phrased so it shouldn't have counted. Anyway, the math part comes next. Jesus H. Fucking Holy Christ Almighty I never felt so dumb in my life. The councilor told me it covered "college level math". Sadly, my grasp of mathematics is equivalent to a dyslexic Amish boy who suffers from Downs Syndrome. To make a long story short, I guessed on virtually every god damn question. The only thing I was sure of was my name and honestly if I hadn't filled that out first thing it would probably been wrong. This was legitimately the first time in sixteen years of test taking that I felt stupid. As fate would have it I did squeak by with a 24/40, meeting the minimum requirements.

Of course my deficiency in this area is not my fault, instead the blame falls on the assortment of big breasted girls who sat by me in math class since 7th grade. Every year I sat behind, beside or otherwise uncomfortably near a young lady with full, luscious boobies. The choice between paying attention to the quadratic equation and day dreaming about stuffing my fat face between those heavenly mounds was non-brainer. Obviously I sided with the breasts. One may inquire how I ever passed any math class if my attention was always diverted. I was a perpetual cheat, and a damn good one at that. As luck would have it a bright, budding mathematician was always sited next to me, so it was fairly simple to ascertain the answers every test.

Today's lessons

1. Breasts are a privilege and not a right. 2. Bob is a horny idiot. 3. Math is for losers


go to hell

There are some really sick fucks out there. The following are the actual keywords people typed in google, which lead them to my site.

Referrer Report
(Search Engines - Keywords - Referring URLs*) used by visitors to access the page.

Top terms visitors used to find your page in a search
whores with stretch marks 35.28%
overdue pregnant girls fucking 34.46%
puss filled sores on female organ 13.46%
penile bumps + puss 11.62%
hate devry 3.61%
does devry have a good mba program 1.57%


If you check out my entries these words do come up occasionally, usually as a form of damnation. However; this does not explain why someone would actively search "whores with stretch marks" or "overdue pregnant girls fucking" on google. Though my favorite is "puss filled sores on female organ".

I actually feel dirty.

you extremely perverted bastards

can

go to hell

Human beings are shoved into existence with no control over their surroundings. From conception through first breath we are completely at the mercy of our parents, in particular our mother. Choice does not enter into the equation until well after birth. And, by then it is often too little, too late.

We don't get to choose our parents, but they in turn do choose to have us. Who bares the greater responsibility? Should we thank them when life is good and damn them when it is bad? People bitch and moan about how life is unfair, which I usually dismiss. It may not be to your liking but you choose to do with it what you will. However, since our creation is founded on the choice of others, not our own, do we really have choice in this life. Life is unfair from the start; every birth is like the lottery. A slim few win the jackpot while the rest our stuck with what’s left.


I am uplifting today, aren't I?

have a nice day

and

go to hell