a n i m a t i o n . w o r d s & p i c t u r e s . f o r u m
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I SuckBy: Josh06.09.01 I woke up yesterday morning, ate a nice breakfast: eggs, bacon, toast, coffee, orange juice, and read the newspaper. It's the little things of it that make it seem nice: putting just enough garlic on my eggs before I flip them. Buttering the toast as soon as it pops so it melts right in. Afterwards, I went outisde with another coffee and a cigarette. It was a reasonably warm day, really muggy and rainy(sweater weather, not quite cold-toilet-seat weather). The kind of day I can enjoy a coffee and a cigarette outside, smirking as the rednecks drive by in their trucks: KC lights, winches, "Don't Hate The Playa, Hate The Game" decals, the whole package, and all for the cost of 30 years worth of saving empty Beer Bottles. (I think only Canadians can truly appreciate the humor of that) I was reasonably content considering the shitastic mood I've been since the weekend: I don't even know what day of the week it is anymore, the price of working the midnight shift. But more importantly, I'd been up for a few hours or so, and I hadn't turned my computer on yet. Hadn't been thinking of how to make fun of some random person, Jet Li for instance, in my next post. Wasn't even thinking of making another post for the first time in a while.  It's The Matrix 2!! . . .no, wait . . .it's not And I realized that I don't want to think about it: I don't want to worry about how long I take between posts nowadays, worry about when to cram in time to write, whether they'll be funny, any of it. It gets to be a chore, almost like a job, and if writing for DC was a job, I'd have gotten fired for this if not for my laziness. I realized that I've grown weary: weary of getting annoyed with pop culture, weary of Jesus, weary of the internet, weary of getting e-mail I know I'm probably not going to reply to, weary of the cold, emotionless expendability of faceless people on the internet to other faceless people on the internet, weary of wondering whether I just make up words like "expendability", and weary of myself. I spent the rest of the day watching cheesy movies from the '80's as my two cats consoled me by taking turns sleeping on my lap and purring, and finishing off that pot of coffee.   "One thing I never could never stomach about living on the internet: all the damn Vampires" Weary of wondering whether anyone out there has seen movies like "The Lost Boys" and would "get" that "joke". So, I'm throwing in the towel, quitting this writing jive, for now at least. And since I've got nothing better to do, and anyone who cares enough to read my crap deserves an explanation - here's why: Reason #1: My Work 
See that? That is a Hockey puck. I spend 40 hours a week making roughly 20 thousand of those fuckers. I also work straight midnights, which cuts my online time down to about 5 hours a day. Posts used to take me a day or two to write. That's taking into account that I used to spend 15 hours a day online. Now, its a week at best. A week of my entire free time devoted to this rubbish. I do get the weekends off, but(as everyone tells me) I'm an alcoholic, so I deal with the mundane, depressive life of making Hockey pucks for a living and spending my only other 5 hours a day bitching about Will Smith by getting as drunk as humanly possible on Fridays and Saturdays. And really, can you blame me?  Gotta live, gotta live in Shit Town My plans are to save money, to quit, and move away from this shit town, wherein I will have free time again, and the possibility of getting back into writing. But for now I'm stuck living with my parents, living in a shit town, and spending more of my time then not with a bottle of malt liquor in my hand. Reason #2: The Unexplained Golf Tee 
I don't Golf. Never have, doubt I will. So WHY IS THIS GOLF TEE IN MY BEDROOM? I'm sorry, but I cannot concentrate with the thing lurking in my room like the unwanted guest that it is. If you have any information as to who's Golf tee this is, where it came from, or why it is in my room, please contact me. Reason #3: My Mood When something comes along that makes comfortably happy and content, for whatever reason, and for however long: I could care less about writing, about the internet, or about much else. When, as is usual, I'm comfortably miserable and feeling cynical: I'm at my peak[sic], and the crap flows like wine, crap wine maybe, but at least it flows. When, as the current trend seems to be dictating(ha! he almost said dick!) my self-pity / esteem / worth / image drops as low as Bob Saget sucking some dick(HA! he said dick!) just to get a role in overrated pothead movies, I feel the need to write something like this, and unplug my computer. It's happened a few times, I've just never gone through with it before. Also, I try to avoid reading the newspaper, because it always makes me angry or upset at how the world has been going to shit for the past few years, how hardly anyone gives a shit about it, and yesterday I did, and it upset me as usual. Reason #4: My Computer  "All I did was press the space bar, officer" Like the world, society, movies, modern music, and my brain cells, my computer has been deteriorating for as long as I can remember. At this point it hardly stays online long enough for me to type the word dick 5 times in a row, before it disconnects, and I have to wait for the re-connection, unless it restarts my computer entirely, or wont even load browser windows. I don't know what's wrong with it, and I don't have the extra money to repiar the dinosauric hunk of shit, or buy a new one. Much of those 5 online hours are spent just trying to stay online. It's enough to drive a man to the drink, I swear. dickdickdickdick*CRASH**CRASH* Wrongfully Assumed Reason: Lack of Ideas With how infrequent my posts have been for quite a while now, it seems plausable some people would assume I just ran out of steam. But, suprisingly, I've had more ideas then I could handle: as of now, I have 3 unfinished posts I was writing for FS, and 2 I had partially written for BigMeats, that's more then I've had in a long time. Writing for a new site gave me a refreshed look on how and what I write. The Only Problem With That: I Suck I can look back on old things I wrote, and I can laugh, mostly I cringe, but the point is things used to flow more natural back then, whereas now I spend time trying to figure out how I can insert a joke into a paragraph. That's cheating, and it annoys me, because I'm finding it harder to laugh at the world, and it's because of reason #2. Reason #5: My Secret Shame (The Dancing Problem)  I Can't Dance, I Can't Walk, The Only Thing About Me Is The Way That I Talk There's more reasons, but they get progressively more personal, and I'm running out of my bitching breath. (if I get one e-mail asking me to give someone back their Golf Tee, I'll hunt them down jab them with some dirty, fucking needles) Since I hate to spend an entire post bitching and whining about myself, and this is likely to be my last post for quite a while, I thought I'd throw some other, completely random content in here. My FS Animations: Aside from writing, I make cartoons, and there's a chance I'll continue making cartoons, since I don't care if they suck. BEANS, BEANS, BEANS! SOC - Josh (Crap) Style Steve: The Dog-Fucker, in "Animal Porn" The People Need A Leader Spontaneous Boogimetric Dance Party #12 Space Ghost and The Go-Go Babies BARNEY HAPPY PENIS! I Shot Davey With An Automatic Here's one not a lot of the people who've already seen all those cartoon will have seen, a little ditty about the superiority of the FS duck over all ducks. Kill *SOAP'S* Duck Some Shitty Music I Made: Yeah, I'm really reaching here, all these are as simply recorded as they could be, scratchy and lo-fi / crap-fi. The only one not done live, into just a tape recorder, is the last one (re: the worst one, seriously, it's horrid) which also contains the first time I ever played piano. Add It Up.mp3(a Violent Femmes Cover) Go To School.mp3 Deep Rest.mp3(sound it out) The First Ever DC Post: Okay, I've got some opinions, and you better listen up, or I'll type in caps! FUCK YOU! I warned you, didn't I? Okay, I hate shit, it sucks, dumb shit sucks. Here's a picture of Mr. T  FOO! JIBBA JABBA! A:KHFGH ISNT MR. T COOL???? BigMeats I fully throw my support behind BigMeats, and I apologize to fouff for only writing 3 articles before I lost the verve, but go there for consistent, quality posts. Pictures I Couldn't Leave Without Using At Least Once:  Cant...hold...on..much..GRAAAAAA  Whenever you're in Texas, look behind you, cause that's where the Rangers gonna be That's about it kids, for those that care, for those that requested articles I said I'd write: I'm sorry, I will be back at this in the future, I just need some catharthis to get back to feeling like any of it matters.  (cathartic) - If you listen to Chuck Norris' Homoerotic theme song too much, you'll go blind |
