First: Can someone explain why the top searches to find my blog are currently “cyclist pee, cyclist piss, man pee xxx, hipster style blogs, hipster style bedding”? Obviously, I’m doing something very right, or very wrong.
Homebabies and homegirls, I am not, as you might have thought, a military man. I have no interest in uniforms, or shaving, though I do love my military surplus camping mat bed. I feel that obstacle courses should be enjoyed, not competed on. While I am too wimpy to have a problem with authority, I am also too wimpy to not have a problem with the potential of people shooting at me.
If I were to fight in any war, it would be the Civil War, so I could attend the totally awesome parties of Major General Joseph Hooker, after whom the slang term for womyns of the nights is supposedly named. (I should also like to claim credit for this renaming of the world’s most scantily clad profession).
Being a man who would join the military only to attend hooker parties, this does not mean that I, like an unsuccessful Hooker, do not enjoy a schedule.
The schedule is the one thing that keeps my unemployment fun, otherwise I would feel like a waste of space, and the trick to true hipsterdom is to give your waste of spacing false purpose.
9:30-9:40-stand huddled under heater. We have a window that does not close all the way, and a heater that is too noisy and powerful to leave on all night, so by morning it is somewhere near 50 degrees in our apartment.
9:40-10:00-breakfast, debate necessity/time of afternoon nap
10-11:15-blog entries on Sundays and Thursdays; stilted “we should catch up, I don’t have a job” emails to ex-girlfriends Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday; stilted “we should totally date” emails to potential sugar mamas Friday, Saturday.
11:15-12:00-coffee, watch stupid sci fi
12:00-1:00-learn dance routines off of youtube
1:00-1:15-make faces in dance mirrors
1:15-2:15-lunch, sci fi.
2:15-3:00-read whatever book is out from the library
3:00-3:15-decide to write next great American novel, come up with skeletal plot involving marital ennui, fear of old age, and an evil roomba that attacks the family dog and sets off a fearful and sadly beautiful chain of deceit, vitriol, and ultimately, sexy redemption.
3:20-3:30-write alternate versions to famous opening lines: “Call me Brenda.” “It was the best of times, it was the worst of my alcohol problem.” “In the beginning, God created the heavens and karaoke.”
3:30-6-run around outside, go to gym, jumping jacks…anything to make myself tired. Or, nap if necessary.
6:00-8:00-cook, eat dinner. Watch sci fi.
11:00-12:00-read, go to bed.
Give me a job.