Very low on ink. Also low on IQ. I’m realizing more and more every day how low my IQ is, how average or below I am, and also what a shit personality I have. I’m so mean, and I only thank people after they help me get out of problems I made worse. To compound the feeling I get from this, I have no “cold fats” in the house to apply to the problem. I have Pringles. After half a can, they don’t work. You can use them to get to level but that’s it. I want handful after handful of vanilla ice cream with “pralines” in it.
My office bowdlerized my online bio, which means my search engine juice will have to suffer. I wrote the whole thing to be unusable, but they managed. They asked a cheeky question: what’s your favorite guilty pleasure? I played along and said “Macaroni salad, or listening to gullible people say incorrect stuff and not correcting them.” Like I give a fuck about macaroni salad. I don’t have guilty pleasures. I gave them comedy. What made the cut? Macaroni salad. I’ll be associated with it forever in a database at the NSA. “The torture isn’t working…it’s time for the salad.”
I wish I had a gallon of macaroni salad. Or a #10 can of children’s ravioli. Guilty enough? Ha ha. My real guilty pleasure is living in the stupid world and leaving the back door open with the AC on, and then complaining about my power bill. What the hell, it’s human contact.
I used to feel bad for the people who voted for President Trump because they felt like people like me were snobs and they would rather have a garbage president and take Oxycontin and sulk than take advantage of their cheap rents and low traffic to learn programming skills and take jobs away from the far-better educated European and Asian people that come here on H1B visas and do sweet programming jobs for below market rate.
But now I wish all those Trump voters would go to work picking strawberries.
On Point with Tom Ashbrook this morning was about how there’s a surge in the death rate for American men my age because they’re alone, they’re so lonely.
There’s that. But I think it’s just that there are too many of us. The world doesn’t need us and it’s finding a way to thin the herd. Heart attacks, opiates, bullets, distracted driving, barbecue culture. Why shouldn’t we be lonely? We’re horrible. Logan’s Run had it right.
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New Orleans, Louisiana 70119