On Friday I typed a letter to my neighbourhood supermarket.
“Up until some point in the year 2020, this store prepared their ready-to-eat chicken pot pies with a crust all around the filling. This does not appear to be the case now as there is only a crust on the top of the pie. I believe with a crust only on the top should disqualify this item as being labelled a pie. This is now like a sandwich with only one slice of bread. How disappointing would that be? You would have to eat your one-breaded sandwich like a pizza. Also, the pies are now 10% more expensive. I’m paying more money for a lower quality item. I highly doubt that I’m the only person who is disappointed with your crustless-bottomed pies. Is there any chance that you will revert to the previous recipe?”
Today I received an unhelpful canned response but I didn’t expect anything more. Will I have a talk with the store manager about my disappointment? I don’t know. If I do, my actions will resemble that of a typical public protester who is protesting mostly because they have no life and nothing to lose. I believe though, if a group of us make a big enough stink about the pot pies then they will to something.
Two years ago I bought a hummingbird feeder which I did not put to use until last week. My best reason for procrastinating is that I had no sugar in the home. There was a tweet I came across recently:
“When you procrastinate you pass the buck to your future self. The problem is your future self tends to act a lot like you.”
To my delight, I have seen a hummingbird stop by to have a drink.
Procurement of a tab of LSD was successful. The last time I did LSD was in 1995. I highly doubt it will be a similar experience since I’m not the ignorant and oblivious teenager I used to be. Someone well into their adult years can carry a substantial load of anxiety and melancholy. I’ll probably do half the tab and see how it goes.
The oddity of life on an individual basis is that the most important aspect is how we feel. Everyone can view our life as relatively or absolutely good but we have a natural ability to complicate how we feel with our perceived unique experiences which may not have satisfied us in the manner in which we would have liked. The ego may be to blame for this as well as the knowledge of our finite existence. Within our limited time there are finite stages which we believe should be lived accordingly to our beliefs. The feeling of failure in any stage often results in negative feelings that can carry on to the next one. Failure in consecutive stages is often devastating. Your movie thus far is a tragic comedy at best made for other people’s pleasure. It would appear that some people are able to alter their feelings to align with a rosier preferred view but in all likelihood they too are suffering but on a different path. Whether or not people resolve their issues before the lights go out is debatable since a method of measurement does not exist. Regardless of how one feels in the end; life does not care. Life will say, “thank you for your service” or “good riddance.” If you can feel good no matter the circumstances then you have successfully stuck it to life.
I had just written a post but I decided not to publish it. Instead you get this one when my battery is low and I have no real idea what to write. A few months ago I just decided to stop drinking alcohol on a regular basis. Well, it’s been working out. I may have one beer a week or not even. Sometimes you know when you’re bullshitting yourself and other times you’re convinced you’re for real. Also, I have started jogging. My goal is to have everyone in the neighbourhood see me jogging so that they feel bad about their lethargic lives. Life is about being better than others so that you feel a superiority over them. I’ve also started my prison style workout by randomly doing push-ups throughout the day. When you feel that you are better than someone it boosts your serotonin.
Like many others I’ve been entertaining the idea of travelling when this whole Chinese virus is done with. The one issue I see is TWA(Travelling While Asian). I’m afraid that I’ll be treated like a middle eastern person after the 9/11 attacks. Get ready for a decade of TV shows and movies with Chinese virus plot lines.
Twitter limited my account activities because one of my tweets included the words, “killing yourself.” It wasn’t even in the context of suicide but bots and whiny millennials don’t discriminate. These days it’s easier to publish the words, “go fuck yourself.” I’ll try that tomorrow.
Last year I bought some boxes of Lindt chocolate to put on the doorsteps of neighbours for Christmas. I just realized that I’m exaggerating and I actually only bought 2 boxes. Only 1 box made it to a neighbour next door because I was sick on Christmas. I could have delivered the last box after Christmas but I was afraid it would look like some cheap schmuck waited for clearance chocolate for a Christmas gift. On non-special days I have no problems buying $1 snacks at the dollar store, removing the price tag and passing them off to people as a thoughtful regular priced gift.
This year I bought 5 boxes of chocolates. I almost opted for the Lindt again until I came across the Merci brand for cheaper as well as 50 grams more a box. I’m confident people will appreciate a German brand. How long did it take for people to embrace German brands after the demise of Hitler? I surmise some time in the 1970s based on the popularity of Volkswagen vehicles. If not then the 1980s based on the popularity of German shepherds. Today, young men are sporting Hitler haircuts which have made good pandemic self-haircuts due to its simplicity. A blitzkrieg with a #1 clip to the sides and back of the head and you’re ready for war.
These Merci chocolates were packaged in a thin square shaped box. As a person with no gift wrapping skills, I went on YouTube and searched, “how to wrap a CD.” After wrapping all of them I had to brainstorm who to give them to. The lucky recipients were:
Old lady in a care home who I take grocery orders for. This was an obligation exchange since she told me ahead of time that she would be giving me a gift.
Neighbour across the street for no other reason than I don’t hate them.
Next door neighbour because I believe his wife recently passed away. He also has an appearance which garners sympathy. The truth is he should be buying me a gift. I have repaired our dividing fence a handful of times at no cost to him. When I say ,”I,” I really mean my obese carpenter cousin but I supervised.
An old guy I shop and deliver groceries for who didn’t even know it was Christmas yesterday. I gave him a $4 box of chocolates and he gave me $30.
A neighbour a block down from me in his 50s. He’s kind of like me; he’s one of those guys other guys hope they will never become. Every day you’ll see him standing outside of his door, drinking alcohol and smoking cigarettes with his male roommate around the same age. We’ve never spoken.
The Asian family that recently moved across the street dropped off a mini box of Lindt and a photograph of them. Now if I don’t acknowledge them at least once the next few times I see them, what are they going to think? I didn’t consider them as a recipient for my German chocolates because they seem to like life or at least try to.
A woman in the neighbourhood who I know from walking our dogs gifted me 2 mini Lindt chocolate bars and a magnet. I chose not to return the favour with my superior gift because I don’t feel sorry for her. She’s very comfortable with money and people generally like her. Santa Claus rewards the nice kids, I reward people who no one seems to care much for. Is there a reason no one cares about them? Maybe they’re assholes and don’t deserve Merci chocolates. Maybe my next door neighbour’s wife past away because he killed her. Aside from #4, all the gift chocolates were left on doorsteps and labeled from “Santa.” I’m making you aware of this because it makes me look like an altruistic human being who is better than you.
Since watching lectures on the Big Five personality traits I have been analyzing myself as well as the people I’ve been well-acquainted with in regards to conscientiousness. Being hardworking is not necessarily the same as being conscientious but I do believe they go together most of the time.
To not much surprise I rank low on the conscientious/hardworking category which would explain a lot. Opposites will view the world with opposite lenses. When you are lazy you will see work as an obstacle which may or may not be worth it to reach an objective. Convincing a lazy person that all they have to do is put in the work is like telling a short person to become tall. You cannot expect to alter non-physical aspects of a person just because it would be more beneficial to them. If a person does not understand something, it’s possible they never will no matter how much you explain it to them. It just needs to be accepted that some people will not be able to dunk an intellectual basketball even if you provide them with a ladder. Some people are just smarter than others.
If you’re a non-hardworking person, your chances of being successful in anything fulfilling decreases substantially. Marriage is hard work. Raising children is hard work. A well-paying career is hard work. Some university degrees are not very useful but they mostly imply that you can only be so lazy. You might have friends because you can tell friends to screw off and just bounce in and out of their lives. If you are non-hardworking you might be okay in life but if you are lazy then not only are your chances of a fulfilling life decreased substantially, your chances of living a horrible life increase significantly.
From Wikipedia: People who score low on conscientiousness tend to be laid back, less goal-oriented, and less driven by success; they also are more likely to engage in antisocial and criminal behavior.
Ding Ding Ding Ding
The enormous edge that hardworking people have is that they typically can endure long stretches of boring and painful work. I mostly want what everyone else wants but I’m not willing to do the work. If my aversion to boring work could be measured it would almost be considered a recognized disability. Knowing how non-industrious I am prevents me from being very interested in anything that I believe will require me to work endless grueling hours for multiple decades.
To this day I have never known anyone to be lazy well into their adult years and turn the other direction for very long. I believe the opposite is true as well. My advice to people who score low on conscientiousness is to accept it and face the probable fact that you cannot survive an environment of unsatisfying work for very long. One option is to go 100% into what will motivate you regardless of the risks. This only works well though if you don’t have a low IQ to go along with your laziness. The other option is to try to get through life by slacking off whenever the opportunity arises. The latter will always be there for you.
Recently, I found a napkin from 10 years ago that had the names and email addresses of unfamiliar family members. As a person with not much to do I initiated an investigation. These two cousins of mine are from my father’s side, a father who I have never met. At the time of introduction 10 years ago they showed sincere interest in getting to know me. I think people have a soft spot for long lost blood relatives. There’s a belief that if you share blood you automatically should have a connection.
My investigation found that the slightly younger cousin is a doctor of mathematics and is a professor at some university in England. He’s published research papers that have titles so nerdy it would make your brain explode trying to figure it out. Cousin #2 is slightly older than I am and he’s some kind of lawyer at a big accounting firm where he is also a partner. Their parents get to say that their sons became a doctor and a lawyer. Although, dissecting algorithms probably isn’t what comes to mind when people think of a doctor.
It was depressing to be made aware of this information. It made me wonder if I would have been better off if I was never retrieved from being abducted by my father. All the male cousins on my mother’s side are losers. Out of 5 Asian males there are zero of us who completed a post secondary education. That statistic may not exist in any other Asian family. It should almost be considered a disability.
I wasn’t aware of it at the time but when I told cousins that I worked at UPS(semi-lie) they probably thought I was a loser. Ph.D, law degree vs my driver’s license. Perhaps, they were thoughtful enough to think that their uncle impaired my potential for life. While their status has risen since our last meeting 10 years ago, mine has fallen to being unemployed. But do either of them have a blog since 2012? Highly unlikely. While math cousin has been writing equations for the vibration frequency of the rings of Saturn, I’ve been writing my nonsense on the internet for nobody to read. Can he come up with an equation for that?
I’m not as sad about this as I’m making it out to be. I felt like writing a post and it’s more interesting to be melancholy than it is to be positive. I’m glad to see that those two assholes are doing well.
During the summer a crew of young Mexicans painted the house. Their price was so cheap it beat the Chinese guy’s quote by half. In the end though it was a case of you get what you pay for. Non-immigrants hate and like immigrants for the same reason — they work hard and often times for less money.
In the last few years I have noticed an influx of Mexican workers. I asked the leader of the crew why he’s up here in Canada instead of America. He said something about a lot of Mexican Americans have dislike towards his type of Mexican. Newly immigrated Mexican? Undocumented Mexican?
Now and again some non-Asian will ask me if I know of a good Chinese restaurant. I can never give a good recommendation and feel ashamed because of it. I asked this guy if he knew of a good Mexican restaurant. I took public transit yesterday to visit the restaurant he recommended. When multiple people began packing onto the bus I thought to myself, ‘why am I on this bus?’ I spent most of the ride in a seat with the front of my face an inch from the window to discourage the Chinese virus particles from violating my air passages.
It was a sad sight in downtown Vancouver. Numerous vacant storefronts and not a lot of foot traffic. The Mexican food was good. Way too many carbohydrates for one meal — rice, beans and tortillas.
There was a story on the news on how people are using the province’s gambling site to bet on the American election. I’m a monkey so I signed up and placed a $100 bet. I have confidence Biden will win. Whoever is voting for Trump again is a fool. He had his 4 years and didn’t bring back the coal mines or jobs. He’d have a better chance making the rotary telephone great again. I’m not sure if he did anything. If you’re voting for Trump this time you might be a humongous fool or a miserable creature.
There’s a liquor store that is walking distance from my home that I like to support instead of the cheaper government liquor stores. What I really mean is that I like to support them but I truly only buy from them because it’s closer. People stop being noble when it’s inconvenient. Most of the time I chat a little bit with the lone clerk who is working there and get out. Not too long ago I asked this one clerk if he was currently a student? He had never attended post secondary. The people working there are almost always in their early 20s with no clue of what they want to be doing with their lives. Marvin was no different.
“Oh shit. You’re just like me when I was your age,” I said to him.
I’ve never given life advice to any of the young clerks there. I’ll ask what they plan to do and they don’t answer as if they’re in any despair so I’ll just say, “cool” and move on. But Marvin started asking questions. I told him some of my bold moves in life and also some of my horse shit ones. He was genuinely interested.
Since our initial conversation we’ve had a few more. Marvin is smart and personable enough but that’s about it. His work ethic and motivation are lacking. I’ve arrived at a comfortable place with him. Comfortable enough to call him a pussy when necessary.
“If you can’t quit this job then what can you do?” I said to him.
He says he likes that I don’t sugarcoat things. After a few conversations I came up with a small profile of him. I had a feeling that he may have come from a broken home of some sort and that there was a 50% chance that he didn’t have his driver’s license. Sure enough that was the case. Funny enough, or not, the whole roster of liquor store clerks there have divorced parents. Marvin struck me as a guy who avoided doing anything that was somewhat difficult if he didn’t have to. It’s possible that I’m not with the times so I asked him if any of his friends do not have their driver’s license. He replied that all of them have it. “That’s not a good sign, is it?” he asks. “It might not be,” I said.
I ask myself what would have motivated me when I was his age of 23. Realistically, other than a stroke of good luck — nothing. Discomfort and uncertainty would not be a world I would enter if not absolutely necessary. When you’re young, time is your friend until it becomes your enemy. The ultimate trick that life plays on everyone is that you have no clue how you will feel about anything or anyone in the future. You make your bets and hope that they work out but if they don’t then hopefully you would have hedged your bets well enough to be able to live with yourself.
The common thing to say is that he’s still young, he’ll figure it out. Maybe. But would you bet your left kidney on him and be able to sleep at night? Being clueless in your 20s in the year 1980 is much different than today. From what it sounds like, Marvin is not going to receive any significant parental assistance. Marvin also doesn’t want to work a job when he grows up. That might be okay except Marvin is lazy/uninspired/unmotivated. I know Marvin’s type. I was Marvin. I know many Marvins and they never figured it out. Life figured it out for them by leaving them the leftovers. Leftovers don’t sound so bad until you have to eat them every day for the rest of your life.
Today I discovered that a former co-worker of mine past away a few years ago. In the year 2006 we were on the same team at a live chat call centre where we would pretend to help clients. We also sat right next to each other. The most memorable conversation I remember having with him was when I jokingly said that I would eat his dog. To my surprise he took offence to it.
The most memorable moment with him was during a car ride home together where I was driving. We were coming back from cooking lunch for terminally ill AIDS patients, you know, one of those things that large corporations make their employees participate in. I freaked the shit out of him and my supervisor in my car when I forced my way through a busy intersection. As long as vehicles have sufficient time to stop before hitting you they will do so.
His obituary stated that he was battling depression which probably means he took his own life at 37 years of age. If I had to speculate I would guess that a recent ending of a marriage/serious relationship was also a major factor based on what I saw and didn’t see on his Facebook page. Here are a couple suicide statistics in Canada:
Although suicide deaths affect almost all age groups, those aged 40 to 59 had the highest rates.
Married people had a lower suicide rate than those who were single, divorced or widowed.
I’ve read that white males in their middle-age have the highest rate of suicide. At that age if you’re not doing so well in life you feel that it’s too early to retire and too late to start over. If you’re single and have no children then it’s just another reason to give up. Isolation whether physical or spiritual is a product of present day civilization in a developed country.
I didn’t know it at the time but when I distanced myself from society at the beginning of the decade, I may have unknowingly rolled the dice on my mental health. It may have been a bad roll of the dice given that multiple members of my family suffer from mental illness. I figure if I was predisposed to having a mental illness it would have happened by now. Luckily, I’m also used to living a shitty life and have always had low expectations. If your parents are from the baby boomer generation and born in Canada, you might have expectations that are more difficult to meet in today’s world.
Talk show host, Jerry Springer, used to always say at the end of every show,
Dad – with all my love -your “baby” daughter – Judie
A senior citizen asked if I could fetch a big bottle of vodka and also some macaroni salad for her. She insisted that I pick up something for myself as well using her money so I bought a small bottle of gin. I’ve been to her place many times before but I never noticed the above picture before. “Who is this?”
Her ex-husband’s daughter was involved in a fraudulent stock scheme with her then boyfriend in the 1980s. “Oh, that’s her.” She had told me this story in the past. They fled to the United States to evade the law or the people they may or may not have ripped off. I forget the details.
I told her how fashionable and stylish she looked in the photo. I was even admiring her face, smile, nails, hands and choice of jewellery. The old lady added that she had big tits too. “Bazongas,” I believe is what she referred to them as. The woman in the picture is still alive today but much “heavier” now. Apparently, she cannot get herself up the stairs to save her life.
The old lady believes Judie screwed up by frequently taking mini vacations every weekend, spending all of her money and renting instead of buying a home. When the old lady kicks the bucket, Judie is supposed to inherit most of the value of the home which is a significant amount. I would imagine Judie believed the old lady would have kicked the bucket by now but instead she’s still alive at 92 years old.
There’s a saying about the stock market: the market can remain irrational longer than you can remain solvent. In this situation, an old person can remain alive longer than a younger person hoping for an inheritance. Life doesn’t care how big your tits were 40 years ago.
If you ask me what I did today I might tell you that I ventured into the world of psilocybin. For most of my life, I’ve found magic mushrooms one of the most difficult popular illegal drugs to procure. Several years ago I read on the internet that if I wanted to obtain some of these drugs I should approach the dirtiest looking guy I can find. As my brain scanned through all of my co-workers at the time, I got a match. I approached him when we were both in the company washroom and what do you know? There was no need to look further. It was like a 16th century European explorer leaving the shores of Europe and hitting his destination with a straight line without his crew having to eat their leather boots. A scurvy-free journey.
Today psilocybin products can be found on the internet and mailed to your door. It’s illegal still but that has never stopped anyone from selling it or murdering people. You know that crime will never end when the known punishment can be 10 years in prison, potentially numerous objects up your butthole and people will still roll the dice. They won’t get me man. Not me.
My cousin gave me some psilocybin chocolate. He said eating 2 pieces should be sufficient. He’s a pussy so I doubled it. If it’s safe, I’d rather overdose than underdose. Underdosing runs the risk of disappointment. It had slipped my mind that I had intended to get high while I was doing some chores. When I felt kind of weird I was reminded that I had put something in my mouth an hour ago.
4 pieces was enough to get slight hallucinations. I’ll have to double it to 8 next time if I really want to trip. But I’m scared. This is why it’s always been more difficult to obtain magic mushrooms. They’re not addictive or at least not addictive enough. If it’s not at least habitual then there’s not much money in it.