Friday, May 13, 2011

Q, T, and A

     Well, it’s summer. College has come and gone quicker than Santa in a low-income neighborhood. I can’t say I’m happy for it to be over (much like kids in said low-income neighborhood) because I’ll be leaving basically 75-90% of the people I now consider my friends behind. Yes, yes, all of you whom I’ve met, give yourself a big pat on the back, you’ve earned it by selecting the same residence hall or classes as I did. But another major reason I’m not quite sure if I’m happy to be home is the fact that now I’m also required to look for a job to support this high maintenance life style I’ve enjoyed over the past couple of years (see Arizona Arnold Palmers, Pancheros). And, depending on how belatedly this post goes up, I still don’t have a job, which raises a couple questions in my mind. So, in the spirit of lazily constructed excuses for a post I was planning to write anyway, here are some questions each man must ask himself.

1. Do I really expect to succeed?
      This is a big one. Over the past 8 months or so, I had started a blog, a whittling project, a novel, the quest to find a girlfriend, and my freshman year of college. Now, although I failed at the one thing I actually saw myself carrying through on, I did indeed finish that chess set and that novel, and as I have written, am now done with freshman year. My blog is also getting more views thanks to Latvians and Russians looking for an obscene amount of pictures of fixie bikes, and, really, aren’t bulk page views all that matter?
Here you go, damn Rooskies.
     I find that not expecting yourself to actually accomplish most goals is quite pleasurable. Now, maybe not on day-to-day self-esteem basis, (which sets a hyphenated words in a row record for the blog) but it certainly does make for a lot more pleasant surprises!
     The question itself reveals a lot about life. One, I doubt myself in my talents and totally disregard all of my flaws, causing me to view ol’ Mick Dickinson as one entirely moderate individual. Two, we never really are any good at figuring out what is going to happen next. When I picked up my first branch and said, “I’m going to make something out of this,” I, in all honesty, expected to shave it into a wooden phallus, giggling all the while. Frankly, I’m still surprised I didn’t. So it is always important to keep this question, and its answer of “If I don’t, there’s a good chance I will”, in your mind at all times.

2. Am I really sober enough to text this person?
    Although I’m rarely on the receiving end of these texts personally, I have been around them often enough to tell you- they’re absolutely hilarious. Yes, you are always sober enough to text. Even if you’re typing gibberish, you’re totally winning him/her over by confessing your innermost thoughts and feelings. Keep it up. No apologies needed.

3. Does this belt go with this shirt?
    Ask yourself that every morning in the mirror. So important.

4. How loud is this fart going to be?
     You know, I started the entry with this question in mind, except I was thinking it more as the one sentence joke I always do at least twice whenever I make a list of this sort. But it honestly got me to realize- farting is at the same time the great equalizer and the utmost social faux pas.
     Nothing is funnier than seeing someone in a position of authority or respect suddenly fart. Microsoft has suggested I change that phrase to “suddenly respect farts” which I now admit, is funnier than what I had previously suggested was the funniest thing ever. But if you saw Obama sitting down with some news anchor, ready to talk about the economy, or what have you, and he let out any sort of fart, especially a squeaker, you can’t honestly tell me you wouldn't instantly buy DVR from your cable company to make sure you will never miss a moment like that again.
     So if we, as a culture, can laugh about these events so freely and without remorse, why is it that if I were to be in a job interview (bringing this topic around full circle) and fart, I would walk out 98% sure I was not getting that job? Does directing old people to the light bulbs or hipsters to a fedora section really require the ability to totally control your sphincter at all… Never mind I pretty much answered my own question.
    Since I refuse to end a topic on a defeat like that, I’m going to direct this to the ladies. Now, ladies, I’m not sure if you all do this, but I’m going to let you in on a secret. The moment you leave the car, the room, or our place of residence, guys immediately fart. We’ve been holding them back out of respect for your femininity, and now that you’re gone, there’s some pressure to be relieved. The pleasure that follows such a built-up fart is much like the pee shivers, in that it is hard to describe the feeling that can accompany a simple body function. NOTE- This only works for new or relatively new couples. Guarantee void in Tennessee.

If you get why included a picture of Paul Anka,
 I love you. You know, biblically.
5. Why am I reading this?
    This is another vital question each modern American must ask themselves. Is it because you enjoy my Simpsons jokes, hastily made lists typed while I should be asleep, often unrelated pictures (not to mention unnecessary asides in parentheses), too-long lists, or occasional short story? Yes. You love all those things.
    But this goes beyond just my awesome website. Every day I say to myself, “I am going to get something done today.” And as I said up in #1, I usually don’t. It’s most often because I decide that a few Stumbles around the web couldn’t hurt, and end up six hours later still reading a website dedicated to awful things awful people say or do, despite the absolute surety I’ll never meet any of these people, and even if I did, I wouldn’t say anything. So instead of procrastinating working on that second story I’ve been meaning to start, I should really begin asking myself “Just how many present tense nouns can I fit into one statement” “Is this actually interesting or am I really just this bored?”
   Saying that, this website IS that interesting. Check out the archives, and why don’t you hop on Twitter for a sec to check me out? It won’t take long, those TPS reports can wait.

He Sleeps 18 Hours But He Always Parties 24,

Mick Dickinson

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