The end of my generation, part 1: Wannabe Rappers

In my neverending pursuit to understand my idiotic generation, I came to a realization. Luckily for myself, I chose to shun society until I turned about 19, and now, two years later, I wish I had continued to listen to my first instinct. In the pointless time I've spent in University, I've done far more to notice styles and catch up on my generation's lack of it.

Now, most decades, or generations of people in Western society are categorized by some term, which follows a close relationship with their clothes. From the free-love anti-bomb of the 60's, the Disco "tightpants" of the 70s, to Yuppies and Generation X, and the brief flirtation in the mid-late 90's with "Generation Y", to yes, even the wife-beating "let's pretend we're a family with values" of the 50s overshadowed by the Cold War, each have distinctive qualities that define them and make them easily recognizable.

This got me thinking: What will my generation's youth be defined as? Using the power of the internet and my bus rides throughout the city every day, I managed to narrow it down to the dominant styles - each are distinct enough from the common flow of jeans-and-tshirt people, and both are frequent subjects of ridicule from anyone with any kind of common sense. These people are the lowest common denominator of my generation, and thus are how older generations assume we all are.

But like our burned-out hippy parents that gave into the man after realizing that they were suddenly the ones with power and money, I forsee that these styles have dismal ends. So I have handily outlined what these are for future reference and "I told you so" creditials. Today: Part 1 of this (at least two-part) series, The Wannabe Rap style.

The wannabe Rap style: You're white but you wish you were black, or failing that, a hip hop star. Eminem has given you all the inspiration you need to prove that growing up in Suburbia is just the same as growing up sleeping on the streets, and even though you've never touched a gun before and you don't know where the safety is on it, you'd definitely be able to bust a cap in anyone over even the smallest of arguments. You spend all your money on bling and designer clothes, wear basketball jerseys of players you've never heard of but their name sounds black, and of course you're nothing without your pin-striped cap put on to cover your right ear - but failing a cap, you've got some sweatbands. Accessorizing is a must here; you're not the baddest motherfucker in your middle-class hood unless you've got at least $250 of jewelery. If any single piece of clothing is less than 100 dollars, you're worse than ghetto, which you don't know what that word means but it's gotta be good cause everyone says it.

You have a slavic devotion to hip hop and rap. 50 cent is your god. You totally understand what it's like to be him, growing up on the streets, dealing rock, which you assume is coke but aren't sure, and getting in drivebys. That is simply your entire life to this point.

Your dream is to sleep with as many girls as possible, and with your 'hood, you frequently refer to how they are 'bitches' and that you're gonna get some play any day. She'll go down on you unquestionably, with her DD breasts and 100-pound body. After you've slept with her, or got a blowjob (which you'll later tell your friends was sex), you brush her off to venture to the next girl, but of course, if she dares to move on, she's a slut. You are incapable of loving a girl - although you have no problem with lying to their face about it to get action. You call the shots in a relationship, or at least think you do, and don't understand when she's mad. You assume it's because she's a bitch.

You dabble with weed to start, which quickly becomes your favourite (and only) pasttime with your friends. After getting high a bunch of times off other people's weed, you realize you need money to support this habit. Getting a job is out of the question, cause you're a gangsta and working is for losers and bitches, so a small Break and Enter is in order. You're successful at first, but each attempt gets you closer and closer to getting caught, and you get cocky. You finally get caught, and your friends have hung you out to dry, fleeing the scene before you could. You try to escape but trip over your baggy clothing - but you're lucky, and get a slap on the wrist punishment, which you assume is you "putting the man in place". You're now terrified of getting sent to prison, but that's not enough to deter you from petty theft.

You venture into more hard drugs, enjoying the high more and more - but it's more and more expensive, too, so you start selling whatever you can - except what you wear. That's part of your skin now. You've become a junkie, but you luck out while baked and find a girl. She's willing to put up with your bullshit cause she's partially retarded, but you don't care cause you can't stop staring at her chest. She has the potential to pull you out of your spiral, but you ignore that... after all, you're a gangsta.

Years have passed by now - you've got no job still, no prospects, no education, but you sure look pimp to 15 people, and everyone else is a hater. You need money, so you get a temp job while learning how to deal drugs. Your addiction to drugs eventually gets you fired, but it doesn't matter anymore cause you've become adept at selling drugs.

You have squabbles with other hoods over something retarded like land neither of you own or something either of you said. If it's not directly related to you, you get pulled into the fray 'backing up' your hood. It's a success! You get revenge by stabbing or beating someone from their hood - if you're lucky, they die. Otherwise, they get back to their base. Things are great for you and your crib - and there couldn't possibly be any reprecussions for this.

Of course there is, and a overblown gang war is started. You get your hands on a gun, and although you're clueless to how to properly use it, you've watched enough movies and music videos to assume you do.

From here, one of two things happen.

1: You get into a firefight with the other gang, and are successful. You held the gun sideways and didn't get shot, and got away with minimal collateral damage. One of your crew is hurt, but your personal "surgeons" get the bullet out and then start drinking away the night. You wake up in a puddle of your own vomit and with a killer headache, and after stumbling out into the day, life is great for a few weeks.

But then the cops catch up to you. You know they're close to catching you, and because you're on coke you're extremely paranoid about getting caught. Unfortunately for you, you have a mild OD and wake up in the hospital. There's a court case, which you lose horribly but end up in rehab first by a stroke of luck.

Six months later, you're declared healed, and head out into the world again, ready to instantly forget what you've just been court-ordered. But wow, you're getting older, now in your late 20s. You find out your crew is a shade of it's former self, some in jail, others rehab, and a retaliation took place while you were in rehab, so some are dead too. You get high and drunk to honour them, and are caught a few days later committing some random crime, but again, are let off with community service. You ignore it, break parole on something minor like getting drunk or breaking curfew. You end up in jail - your worst fear.

You're a pretty boy, and those few months are terrible. You've done things that have scarred you for life, and your asshole sure is sore, but now you've got ex-con streetcred. You've got no place to live, and your crew is strangely rejecting you, or at least, what's left of it. Your girl is long gone, moved on to someone you kind of know, but you pass it off as she's a bitch.

You've got nothing going for you, but you still think you're badass. You get way over your head trying to get back to the top, and you're gunned down by a rival, or arrested in a raid. If you're not dead, you're now in jail for the rest of your life.

2: You get in the firefight, and you suffer heavy losses - apparently they were expecting you, or they had better guns. You tried everything, even holding your gun sideways, but it didn't work. Half your crew is injured badly (including yourself), or dead, or the smart ones didn't go and left the crew (the bitches). You're in hospital for awhile, and the recovery is long, but you haven't forgotten what's happened. You're in your late 20's, but the ragged remains of your crew band together for the last stand. It's the night before your attack, and you're getting high/drunk to prepare. You've got a bigger gun from a guy that knew a guy, but the word spread too quickly - the rival knows you were coming, and they attack first. If you're not gunned down right there, you again suffer bad injuries and are back in the hospital. You've lost a lot of normal functions, and it hurts to move sometimes.

You're just short of 30 when are released a second time. You find a new girl, clueless to where the first went, and try and clean up - you get a temp job, which turns into your permanent job, you have a few kids (if you haven't had a few already that you dunno where they are but still have to pay child support). You wonder how your life could have ended up this way, so dead-end. At least you stayed out of jail - but just barely. You still get high from time to time, but nothing hard anymore - your girl has threatened you about that, and you listen because you're scared of living on the street like you claimed you were from back when you were 19. You're a burnout, but you sure looked badass in your early 20s. You regret everything but refuse to admit it to yourself.

Your girl leaves you before you turn 40. Dejected and useless to society, you turn to drugs again. You either get arrested or OD. If you're not dead, you're in jail, and just want to see your kids again. But their mother won't let them see you - and who could blame her? You'd cry, but you're too manly for that. You've wasted your life.

But you looked cool when you were 19.

Part 2 "Emo", next.

-Mark

Bigger Boys and Stolen Sweethearts

It's been just under a week since my last ranting - truth be told, working full-time really has taken it out of me, and my beloved internet has found itself neglected of a would-be linkslutter. However, there's still been a few issues that have "arisen", so to speak.

I'll be the first to admit that a lot of people use XP illigitemately - but honestly, who gives a shit if we're screwing over a monopoly that's screwing over the consumer? Personally, I only use XP because it's the most popular platform that I know everything is made for. There's a Mac in my household, but yeah.. Mac.. no. I don't have the patience to learn all the intricases of Mac when Windows gladly fills my time with its endless problems.

But just the other day, I got a message, 6 months after I installed XP clean onto my system, that my copy of XP "may not be legitimate - you may be a victim of software fraud".

Gasp! You don't say, I'm a victim of getting something for free that I should be getting for free anyway? And what's that, you say? I'm inavertedly taking money away from Bill Gates, the richest man on the planet? I'm so ashamed of myself. Oh wait - I live below the poverty line (technically) - and I really don't feel like paying $150+ for a system with countless bugs.

However, this little notification stored itself in my taskbar and wouldn't go away. Like most unused icons in the taskbar, if you forget they exist for a few days, they'll be hidden. So I just figured that if I ignore it, it'll go away.

Not so. Apparently this little fucker stays there all the time until you buy a legal copy. Well I was having none of that BS cluttering up my neglected taskbar, so I partook in some investigation to get rid of it - but no matter what I searched, the only way to seemingly dispose of it (for now) is to actually spend money... so screw that. I tried living with it for a few days, but found that it was an aesthetic headache, and I went into my sluething.

But this brings me to my handy little solution. All I had to do was go into the taskbar options, select the icon, and put it to "hide always", and poof, it's gone, at least off my visibility.

Which leads me to my final point. It seems that Microsoft just assumes/relies on people's general computer illiteracy to get by. Most people wouldn't have a clue how to get rid of that, or make it "go away" by proxy. Microsoft tries to appear legitimate, but given their exploits of routinely screwing over both the competitor and the consumer and avoiding being broken down (except for that one case, but yeah, do you feel like there's competition in the market now) for the better half of two decades. . . it doesn't happen. I mean, how many of you actually READ what the security updates are doing, or do you just mindlessly click "yes" so the popup will go away? How many of you have EVER noticed a performance boost from any update, ever?

It's just a thought - when I disabled the updates to stop the notifier from pissing me off, it "warned" me that I'd stop receiving critical updates. . . critical what? What has Windows EVER done for ANYONE apart from suck but be lucky enough to be in the right place at the right time (ie: The 80's, when everyone was high on coke and buying shit).

In my ideal utopic world, companies wouldn't be huge dicks. Oh, how I dream sometimes.

-Mark

Knifes and Razorblades

Okay fuck it. I'm now breaking into the world of larger text adventures, only because I'm too lazy to constantly change the options. So enjoy being able to actually read my blog now. Let's move on.

So I'm riding home from work today, when I see a sign on a church yard. Usually I just laugh or scoff at how retarded the sayings are - because some idiotic proverb is not going to get me to join their cult. But this one got me pretty pissed off, for a variety of reasons...

It said "If evolution is real, then why do mothers still have only two hands?"

OH. I just stared at it for a bit - I suppose I shouldn't be that surprised, considering most churches get extremely arrogant when they know they can get away with bullshit like that. But first things first...

Okay yeah, it's mother's day soon, so I can see why they'd play off that angle. I dunno how the hell that'd get anyone to go there, but whatever. But more importantly, they're trying to guilt me into Mother's Day BS. Consumerism is pretty intertwined with Religion, especially the mainstream Christian ones. Look, I care about my mom, blah blah blah, but I really don't give a shit about Mother's Day. I don't live with her, and I'm pretty much anti-buying anyone something cause a company tells me too.. so Mother's Day really doesn't mean much to me - and yeah, some people will call me cheap, others a jerk, but they can fuck themselves. Unlike most people, I have convictions that I stick to. I hate religious and forced holidays - I'm more of the spontaneous nice/gifts. Anyway, getting off topic. So the sign was odd in that it promoted mother's day.

Oh, and let's not forget that it's pushing back women's rights. "Only two hands"... which pretty much implies that they do everything around the house/work, and take care of the kids. Yes, let's just shove them in a traditional role and thank them once a year for it. They're important for once a year. They do so much, but let's forget about it the rest of the year until we're guilted into thanking them in the most insincere way - by trying to buy their affection!

But most importantly about this sign, was it's little backhanded nadslap to politics. Let's take a relatively pointless holiday and make some rip at Evolution! Well if God knows everything and is all powerful, why the FUCK didn't he CREATE mothers with more than two hands? At least according to evolution one day she may have more.. but if she does, then she's an unholy hellish freak that God would shun. Because she wouldn't be made in his image. What a retarded theory, by the way. But hey, I'm sure creationism explains everything perfectly - except, you know, everything. I mean, don't give me this bullshit about God giving man the power to do whatever he wants, because he's all knowing and he would know beforehand that it'd turn into a major disaster where we kill each other over retarded shit (by the way, we've been killing ourselves for about 10,000 years. We're sure learning from our past).

If God really did create man, he fucked it up and then gave up, or God is a sadistic son of a bitch (maybe he's a cutter?).

-Mark

(Guitar Solo)

So I've been working full time like a chump now for a week and a half or whatever. The job isn't excessively terrible, although unbelieveably monotonous - but that's not what I'm bitching about today (I'll save that for later).

What I am bitching about is the simply awful names companies are coming up with for their products. I mean most computers are just a jumble of numbers and letters that nobody understands but assumes that higher numbers and more letters = better computer, but there's a lot of mindless shit names. I mean the "Happy Meal"? What the fuck. You won't be so happy after those burgers congeal and block your heart and you die...

Or how about cigarattes? "Lucky Strike"? The only luck you'll get from smoking that is getting cancer and living with cancer for years, watching your health deteroirate while your family gives up on the medicare cause you're "not worth it anymore". Lucky you.

But specifically, there are some AWFUL names for alcohol (I work at a liquor warehouse... go figure my rage would lead here). While piling booze on skids, My co-workers and I have found booze like "Fat Bastard", booze that requires a Mensa membership to spell, and my personal favourite: Golden Wedding.

Golden fucking Wedding? That sounds more like a porn movie, not a wine. Honestly, just think about that for a second. Go to your friends and say "Wanna have Golden Wedding tonight?"
Or what about an actual golden wedding? "You may now piss on the bride."

I can think of a billion better names for a wine. And another thing - if your wine is the colour of piss, that's not something I'd want to advertise.

-Mark

Good luck on guessing this post's song.

You only sleep with girls that say they like your music

God my back kills.

If that grass looks fun to roll in, roll in that fuckin' grass!

I spoke too soon (or they read my rant).

HIRED LIKE A CAPITALIST WHORE!

-Mark

(Last song was Okkervil River - Happy Hearts)

He held me down, and made me feel as bad as he

So I've been looking for a job. I landed a few interviews, but typical of me, I usually have a moment in them where I choke on the bullshit I'm feeding the employers and spew some rabid truth, and that fucks the job over for me.

But if some douchebag can get a job, especially the shit I'm applying for (honestly, why even BOTHER interviewing people for warehouse jobs?), since when is it a negative to have solid work experience, but with no conflicts with a boss? I've got three references and apparently that means shit, cause let's hire some pot-smoking douchetard to steal half our shit and show up late all the time.

What.the.fuck. I mean a lot of the reason I don't have a fulltime job is cause there's simply an ass-ton of jobs I won't do (ie: anything that makes me deal with customers. Cause the general public are fucking morons.), but it's not like I'm looking for anything unbelievably difficult. Just shove me behind the scenes, doing manual labour type-shit, I don't give a fuck. It's not like there's only a select number of people that can stack skids for transport.

Fuckers! I WANT A JOB (another one).

-Mark

(Last song was Franz Ferdinand - Take Me Out, Scissor Sisters rendition)

So if you're lonely, you know I'm here waiting for you

My internets is all dusty and cold, due primarily to my lack of anger-fueled love towards it (I hit you because I love you!). Of course, I could just do a shitty clip show that TV programs do when the writers are too high to think of anything original; but I digress from the point I haven't made yet.

I've come to realize over the last few years of my schooling that I'm not really learning anything - and that I'm a high-70's student (or a B+, for those of you that are in the "No child left behind" program, and are thus illiterate and mathematically retarded). Whenever I need to really know something, I just go back to one class in highschool - Grade 12 Communications. I've apparently learned an entire University degree when I was 18, because apart from reading idiotic essays from illectuals that are in more poverty than I am, most of the "information" I've learned in my degree is essentially just extensions on things I already knew.

Of course, given my degree, lots of the content I learn is opinion-based via the prof. (Think National Cinemas). I've had to endure 4 months and about 500 bucks out of my pocket on courses I absolutely don't give a shit about (like Soviet and Polish cinema), which although some have fading moments of interest, it's mostly harping the same shit for the entire course. There's a few problems here;

1: There isn't enough content to justify a 13-week (or god forbid, a 25 week) course that'll eventually lead to my degree/40,000 dollar debt. I'd take another course not in my major, but fuck, half these courses are required for me to graduate. I don't give a shit about Eisenstein's theory of montage (if you know the definition of "montage", you've just equalled Soviet filmmaker Sergei Eisenstein's life work), and knowing it doesn't justify making me sit through Battleship Potemkin, Strike, or anything else he's done. And for fucks sake, his essay in the book I was forced to pay 100 bucks for had DRAWINGS all over it. DONE BY THE BASTARD HIMSELF!. Anyway, it doesn't end here. I've already told people in my faculity (and they agree) that I'm basically writing the same essay over and over using different movies. I have my strengths when it comes to analytical essays (which, by the way, is all I'm ever required to write), and it's always Film Aesthetics, and bullshit (not in that order). I've sat through.. hmm.. lemme see here... about 150 movies in the last 8 months, and I've totalled 606 hours of class. . . . 324 of which was watching movies (approximately). So yeah, I'm sitting in a dark room for over half my year watching movies - sounds like a sweet deal, right? Imagine watching your favourite movie 100 times in 8 months. Sure, the first few times you find out different things that you didn't notice before. But after about 25 watchings, you just don't wanna do it anymore - and you're only 1/4th of the way through. Now take those 75 other viewings and start analyizing EVERYTHING about your favourite movie - ranging from who the director is, to the political ideology, to gay undertones, to reinforcing traditional values, to the evil of the corporation funding it, to the actor/actress inside it, to the shot style, to the colour choices, to the meaning created by shots, and pretty much absolutely everything you can think of. The short: Your brian dies and you stop caring or liking your favourite movie. . . because school has destroyed your movie-watching soul. Now do it for FOUR years and 40 thousand dollars! AND EVEN THAT DOESN'T GUARANTEE YOU A JOB OR THAT YOU'LL EVEN PASS!.. cause after destroying your favourite movie, you have to write a 15 page essay about it - and you have to "research" your topic, because you're far too stupid to form opinions without some quoting some educated hack 800 times. . . and what makes his opinion more valued than yours? Well... he's done what you have, except he decided to do it for his entire live. Hell, YOU got off easy.

By no means am I saying my major is difficult - I don't have to do much of anything, and there are some good movies in the mix - and hell, some of the readings aren't soul-crushingly boring (although 90% are). And on occassion, an industry dude, filled with years of cynicism and bitterness towards his wasted talents because the studio hacks edited his film comes in and does a talk at the University - in the process shutting down the one prof you couldn't stand. (Yes, that was sweet). I mean, it's not like I have to learn chemistry or something I know absolutely nothing about. At least in my major, I can fall back on my foolproof, never-fail bullshitting.

2: It's not that the professors don't do a lot of work prepping the courses - and fuck, they get underpaid like nobody's business to do it - but having a prof come and teach a course that's opinion-based will ultimately lead to a clash of opinions. What one person's masterpiece is, is another persons sack of shit. You have to be able to look past the verbal shit these profs give, cutting the opinion out from the actual need-to-know/need-to-bullshit-to-pass.

3: Writing. Who the hell writes theories on this shit? And why do I have to know it? I'm well-aware I made a wrong decision to take this degree as opposed to a technical film one, or actually going to film school (which I'll have to do ANYWAY after I graduate), but seriously, some of the things I "learn" are absolutely pointless. In the entertainment industry, to create a film with a personal meaning is impossible unless you've acheived commercial success beforehand. If you build your "truth" films on lies, where you were a hard-luck nobody that overcame the odds to become something (see: 50 Cent's film Get Rich or Die Trying), you're bound to find some kind of success, cult or mass. If you rant about political issues, but make it seem like you're talking about something else (see: Capote, which was actually about gay issues, not the "In Cold Blood" book.. not saying it wasn't a good movie), you're in. Or my favourite - doing a movie you've done already, but nobody saw the first one because you weren't popular then. (see: Brokeback Mountain, which was done by Ang Lee after he became popular from Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon, but if you watch his 1993 film The Wedding Banquet it's actually Brokeback's inspiration.. and pretty much the same topic in a different context. It's also better). What it all really comes down to is money, money, money, money, and more money. You could be the most talented person in the world with the most important movie idea ever, but if some douche in a suit thinks they can't make more money off it, you're fucked.) Anyway, these are the things I have to write about - over and over.

It's far easier to just be retarded and not be good enough to go to University. Consider it saving money, not "missing out on an education".

How coincidental this rant comes in the middle of my exams that I haven't studied for (and don't need to, for all the reasons above).

-Mark

(Last song was The Brunettes - Best Friend Envy)

She gets her art from all the boys in town

Linkslutting myself, because I can.

Clicky clicky
One more time, do it for Jesus
I took these.

-Mark (is clearly not studying for exams)

(Last song was Eels - Old Shit/New Shit)

Everyone loves you, nobody cares

Exam period. More to come.

-Mark (hates school)

(Last song was Bloc Party - All The Marshalls are Dead)

Attention: Unbelievers. Fashion Victims. Opportunists

After the greatest concert EVER... I tore some ligaments in my foot. Or muscles, or whatever. WHAT A FUN NIGHT!

-Mark can't walk

(Last song: We Are Scientists - Worth the Wait)

If I had one drop of common sense, I'd have already left

Happy 100th blogging, me. I swear to Jebus or whatever, I'm ready to snap... so this will be another one of my rants that make no sense.

My work fucked up the schedule again, so I worked a double shift (remember the last time I did that? Yeah, I crashed my Jeep.). I finally bitched enough so they fixed it, and I got back at them by stealing about four dinners worth of food. Fuck you guys, I'm taking everything I can get away with.. hell, the security guard even taped the damn plates together so the food wouldn't fall out! HA! Fuck you work. You pay me 10 bucks an hour and I stole about 100 bucks of food.

Seriously, have crack-addicts just given up on trying to be inconspicuous? When I got off the bus today there's just some guy in the corner of the bus stop snorting some coke off a five dollar bill. I mean I've seen a lot downtown, like the gay stakeboarders today (NO male skateboarder wears a girl's toque and looks like he's about to make out with his buddy on the bus.. I thought I was wrong but after some very awkward staring at him... do you stare 6 inches from your friend's face at his lips?) Oh yeah, and he was wearing tight bell bottom pants. That was just weird. MOVING ON!

I've seen a shit-ton of gay people around that stop, it's pretty normal now.. I've also seen some gender-inspecific people, and the classic homeless wanderers that I'm waiting for one of them to try and mug me.

A few days ago I saw a different drug deal go down.. actually I walked past it. There's something about this neighbourhood, potheads, and fences. It's not like they're hiding, they're just leaning against a fence in plain view making drug deals at 3PM by an elementary school. Classy gents. Too bad the 15 year old was dealing to a 35 year old. That was also weird.

AND SCHOOL.. I'm STILL not learning anything, just getting more pissed off. I'm about three days from snapping and I've got four to go. And a RESEARCH essay to finish off the term? WTF, I don't want to actually try anymore.. That's just cruel.

And no summer job, not that I'm looking very hard. Someone give me a third job! I knew I just should have ran off to BC this summer with no intention of ever returning...

Oh.. and I'm bored with everything. If only I wasn't so lazy.

-Mark

(Last song was The Dresden Dolls - Dirty Business)

She leaves condoms out on the dresser just to make you jealous of the men she fucked before you met her

This is another one of my booze-enduced incoherent rambles...

Seriously, I'm fucking tired of school. It's probably got a lot to do with the fact I'm not even LEARNING anything anymore, and I'm basically showing up because I paid money (in the future) for this bullshit, so I'm saving face to myself, but seriously, every essay I'm writing is just me repeating the same shit over and over with a different movie.

I don't do my readings. I used to kid myself and buy the books so I at least felt like if I needed to do the readings or I had some kind of inspiration, I'd do them, but now I don't even bother. I don't buy books cause fuck, I learned it all in first year and then in the first semester binge-whoring classes. SERIOUSLY WHAT THE FUCK I PAID 35000 GRAND TO LEARN THE SAME SHIT OVER AND OVER.

Well jeebus University, how about teaching me some tangible skills for once? (My "c" button is fucking up now.. glory road!) I'm not in University to learn how to become a professor and teach the same mindless shits as myself for the rest of my life (although it'd be a conveinent in-person outlet for my rage) wow my typing while boozed is pretty decent. Anyway where was I? oh yeah, FUCK University.

Seriously, I should have gone to college but even that would just belittle me. After all I'm great so fuck college, it's not even an option. I just applied to make my mom happy but there was no fuckin' way I was going. I figured that I needed a real edumacation, so University was it.. then my parents seperated and I lost all my funding (thanks!) and now I'm stuck in a shithole where I'm learning dick all.

And I'll end up going to college ANYWAY when I'm done
Fuck why don't I just drop out right now and go, cause it's goddamn waste of my time to be here.Okay it's not like my degree isn't bullshit and that I didn't know that going in, but seriously, I'm not doing shit with my life except meeting people. And wowee, that's fun but I need more people to drink with dammit so I can forget about how depressing going to University here is.

EWHAT>THE>FUCK.

-Mark I think

(Last song was Youth Group - Rosie and The Sea.)

It's an awesome song, this one up for the title of this rant, too. YOU AIN'T THE Po_lICE!

I was thrust with glory, and everyone telling me to tell my story

Okay, usually the dome is angry, but today is a time to rejoice, because I just had the BEST.BUSRIDE.EVER.

So I'm on the bus, sitting, and we come close to an intersection stoplight. There's a line of cars, so the bus stops - but opens the door in the left turn lane - some dude in a red Honda is calling him over. He says something about how the bus drove off when his daughter was there (so what?). The bus driver apologizes and tries to explain his thing, and then the guy yells to the driver "You're an asshole!"
Now it gets fun.

They crawl up a bit, and yell some more. The driver shouts something, the car shouts something.. it's loud, and everyone on the bus can hear (I'm trying not to laugh).

The red Honda then CUTS OFF THE BUS to get into the left turn lane, stops in the middle of the intersection (causing the bus to nearly crash into it), then out-crazies everyone by getting out of his car and running to the driver's window. I didn't catch it all, but this is the gist:

Honda: "What's your fucking problem you asshole!"
Bus: "It's not my fault if your daughter doesn't get on the bus!"
Honda: "Why don't we just step outside and settle this, you asshole?" (remember, we're in the middle of the intersection).
Bus: "I'm not getting out of the bus, you moron."
Honda: "We'll I'm not moving my car until you do!"
Bus: "Fuck you, I'm calling the cops!"
Honda: "Go right ahead, I'll be waiting!"

All this over a dumbass chick that doesn't know how to get on a bus... hehe.

So the Honda guy eventually panics, cuts off like 18 other cars trying to avoid getting his plate read (and he failed), and the bus got me to campus on time, and the cops were called. I burst out laughing during the middle of this argument, which was probably awkward, but it was hilarious...

So I dub that the best bus ride I've ever had.

And now you know how fucking crazy the place I live in is. People trying to pick fights over a missed bus ride.

Excuse me a moment...

..
..
..
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

-Mark

(Last song: Bloc Party - Helicopter)

Six out of ten, better luck next time

So I'm still pissed about that crash, cause I'd JUST cleared my last debt (ironically, that day. Fuck off!) Anyway, so I only have to work 10X the hours I have so far to pay off a piece of plastic and a fingerful of paint, but this bring me to my next pile of ranting juice.. and I can't believe I didn't rant about this earlier.

But before I begin, I can say that you people have nothing to worry about - despite the happy-enducing powers of the current girlfriend, the Universe was righted again by the cement pillar that I've already kicked and swore at the day after (which I rode to work on my sister's bike, cause my bike got a flat in the GARAGE over the winter, somehow. So I threw it through the recycling bin, which broke it. Luckily, Duct tape solved that. Let's move on).

INSURANCE! You fuckers!

Okay, I hate hate hate hate insurance. I hate them so much I wouldn't even hate fuck them (if you don't know what hate fuck means, wikipedia it.). But it's so counter-intuitive (car insurance). I mean nobody ever wants to claim because they're afraid their rates will skyrocket (which they would). It's so bad that some people would rather just buy a new car then deal with those fucktards. And because it's illegal to drive without insurance, those fucktards can do whatever they want. I mean I pay 150 a month or whatever to do shit with my car (which is my dads, which is broken). I have to pay for something I can never forsee myself using, because I'd actually rather pay for any damage to any car I own then talk to those douches. Even if I can't afford the car repairs, it's better then paying out the ass in insurance.

Here's an idea for the government to win the next 800 elections: MAKE AUTO INSURANCE NOT MANDATORY - UNLESS YOU GET INTO A MAJOR ACCIDENT. What's a major accident? 10K+ of damage. If you've totalled your crate that much, you should have to pay insurance. But if you've just dinged a few times, fuck off! And speeding affecting your insurance? EVERYONE SPEEDS. EVERYWHERE. ALL THE TIME. If you DON'T other drivers get pissed. Anyway, if you don't need auto insurance, well fuck, insurance companies make actually make it WORTHWHILE to have insurance. Right now they've got you by the balls and there's nothing you can do so why SHOULD they help you unless they don't get 5X the benefit?

See, house insurance isn't mandatory but it makes sense. You don't want your shit to get stolen or anything, so you get it if you have something valuable. IF you drive a wreck, who cares if someone steals it? Oh no, my car that I need to service every week and that has a leaky gastank! I'll have to walk to the end of the street to get it back! Seriously. If you have a nice car, you'll probably insure it to make sure that you're covered. But if you drive a crate, you don't care that much. If anything, you're just happy to not have to deal with that. And since we live in the age of paranoia, it's more than likely you'd actually take better care of it if you could lose it and have no compensation.

Fuck you, insurance.

-Mark

(Last two songs: March 24: Okkervil River - The War Criminal Rises and Speaks)
(March 25: Okkervil River - The Velocity of Saul at the Time of His Conversion)

Your time has expired, the only word left is goodbye

&*&*#&*&^*%*&#% 1171 bucks for that fucking piece of plastic? Fuck off!

-Mark

Rise up behind your eyes, and take wild control

Glory days ahoy! Now for the most part I'm bitter towards society (no shit, eh?) and all the stupid shit I see happen. But whoa, here I go ranting into the present (or only slight-past) of personal experience! Let me tell you, after the day I had, it took everything in me to not to boil over (and I swear, it almost worked).

I tried, I swear. But Wednesday, March 22nd, was just a nonstop nadslapping. Apart from the usual beaucracy of my second job scheduling me on an unavailable day (for the 5 billionth time, after I've told them fourty times I'm NOT AVAILABLE ON THAT DAY), I ended up getting double shifted at my first job, and then at night, for my second. Whatever, I agreed because I'm broke.

My first job goes relatively smooth - as usual, I don't do much of anything for the four hours I'm here. I go home, to find out there's no sauce for my spaghetti. So I improvised and made spaghetti with medium salsa instead of sauce, which actually turned out to be quite delicious (try it sometime with sliced onions). I head off to work after - I borrow my dad's Jeep since I'll be working into the morning and the buses around here suck. I go to work - there's some massive pile 'o suits convention going on.. something like 1500 people. For the first bit I do nothing, my boss (one of them) steals the three of us 50 dollar dinners and we hide away and eat it. Sounds sweet, right? Yeah, it all goes horrifyingly downhill from there.

I'm asked to stay past my end time. I agree (money purposes, again), which results in me working twice as long as I was supposed to. But.. BUT.. I'm getting ahead of myself.

Around 10PM or so, the dinner is over but we have to wait for the suits to clear out. My other boss tells the three of us to just hang around and wait. So we go to the bar to make sure nobody's stealing booze and to wait for people to leave. We're there for about 15 minutes, tops. Eventually Boss #2 comes over and tells us to help out downstairs with Boss #1 and all the other staff until we're needed back up here.

We go down there, and in the back hallway, Boss #1 finds the three of us. He asks (loudly): "where the hell have you three been?"
Me: "We were up in the ballroom."
Boss #1: "What the hell were you doing there?"
Me: "Waiting for the guests to clear out."
Boss #1: You were gone for 30 fucking minutes!" (wrong assumption #1)
Me: "No we weren't."
Boss #1: "Yes you fucking were!!!"

At this point I just stop trying to tell him that he's wrong cause it's pointless (hooray for being on the bottom rung of a corporation and not having a voice!). I just sucked up all the yelling on behalf of the three of us, and was informed that we'd taken our lunch by doing what we were told by Boss #2.

Apparently. So okay whatever, I just start working (ironically, not even 5 minutes later we were in the ballroom again. Wow.) and get on with life, eventually getting the opportunity to explain to Boss #1 what really happened. That fire was put out, huzzah. I got my lunch back.

But then Boss #1 tells me and another of the workers to vaccuum - course, the previous shit is still in the way but I start vaccuuming.

Enter Boss #3. (Yeah that's right, 3 bosses on one night! woo.) I was on a break, and heading up to the break room. But in the hallway, they have all the uneaten (complete) deserts. I ask Boss #2 if I can grab one, he says that he didn't say yes but yes. I mean, I still don't get the big deal about eating food they're going to THROW OUT, but whatever. I grab a plate, and go towards the elevator. Boss #3 sees me with the plate.

Boss #3: "What are you doing with that?"
Me: "I'm on break."
Boss #3: "You can't take that and eat it!"
Me: "I can't eat food you're going to throw out?"
Boss #3: "No!"

I'll spare the rest of the details, but after a brief argument about why I don't like wasting food and how it's retarded to stop me from eating food that she's just going to THROW IN THE GARBAGE (have I made that point clear?), I get the plate. I go up and eat it (delicious! Free food always tastes better, despite my rising bitterness towards the situation). I go back downstairs and finish vaccuuming, but not before the other staff start setting up shit for the next dinner, convienently stopping me from vaccuuming certain floor.

Enter Boss #3.. again. "You missed a spot."
Me: "Where?"
Boss #3: "You didn't vaccuum here, here, here.."
Me: "They put the tables down before I could vaccuum there."
Boss #3: "Get the small vaccuum and fix your mistake!!!"

Now a table doesn't seem like a big deal, but these things are lined up specifically, and I'd actually get in bigger shit if I moved them. So now I've been yelled at three times, all for things I never did wrong.

I vaccuumed between the tables with the small vaccuum and got that done with.

2 hours passed... and enter Boss #3... one last time. "You missed a spot!"
Me: "Where?"
Boss #3: "In the corner!"
Me: "Okay, the cord doesn't reach that far and the extension cables are being used by other things."
Boss #3: "Don't give me excuses, just go do it!"

Joy. I got told off for not doing something I absolutely COULDN'T do anyway, and despite my explaining I still got yelled at.

So after vaccuuming the friggin football field sized carpet for a third time, my night ends... around 4:30AM.

I head down to the parking garage to my dad's Jeep. I'm pissed enough as it is, but I just think that at least I took home about 120 bucks today between my two jobs.

I get in my Jeep and get ready to reverse out - but another parked van is jutting out too far, so to not hit it, I turn to the left and back up... nicely into a pillar, breaking part of the bumper off, denting the frame over the back tire, and smashing the protective cover over the left taillight.... all in a 5MPH collision.

From money earned, to money in debt. I'm pretty much fuming by now, and luckily nobody else is around for my brigade of swearing that echoes. I clean up the pieces and throw them in the Jeep, test to see if the blinkers still work... which they don't. But the alignment is fine, so it's still driveable assuming I can get home without a cop seeing it and ticketing me. Oh, and did I mention that I had a class at 8:30 AM? Moving on..

I get back in the Jeep, and just flipped out, in a fury that only comes upon my life once every few years (mostly I just let it roll off my back, but come ON.. would you keep it together after all that?), punching the shit out of everything I could and swearing my face off.

Eventually I calm down (with help of some Bloc Party tunes, which pretty much kept me from driving myself into a ravine.

What a perfect end to a perfect day. I got home (after getting lucky with a cop.. he DEFINITELY saw me AND the broken taillight, but decided that it wasn't worth destroying whatever sanity was left in me - thank you, anonymous officer of the law) around 5AM, and went to bed, giving the world a gigantic fuck you. Oh, and I missed class after all that (like it matters).

So my dad's ready to murder me when he gets home and sees the damage (which he knows about, since I called him), so if this is my last post, at least know I died doing what I love best - getting murdered over an-under-10MPH-collison-with-an-immobile-object.

-Mark

(Last song was The Futureheads - Man Ray)

Where did your hands go, when you thought I was your life

One thing that really bothers me is people that label their style as "unique" when it's really just the same as anyone elses. For example, dressing like a hipster isn't unique - that's a style. Just because your clothes are identical to the magazine cutout of what that style is DOES NOT mean you are unique. You're just the same as every other jerk that wears that shit. I can't stand having to listen to people ramble about how they choose their clothes to look different, and then fall back on some idiotic style that has been done thousands of times by other people that thought they were unique.

I really don't care how you dress. Just be honest about it. You're not a unique, beautiful flower. You're the same decaying matter as the rest of us.

-Mark

(Last song was Clap Your Hands Say Yeah - Upon This Tidal Wave of Young Blood)

They are going out to bars and they are getting into cars

I've been brewing this baby up for awhile now.

One thing (amoung many) that really gets to me is when your parents or authority figure in your life (whomever it may be) continually calls you by some retarded pet name they gave you when you were young.

For example: When I was a wee lad, I used to get all excited about pumping gas for some reason (probably because I liked the smell of the fumes), which my mom donned the name of "Mr. Gas Boy." Okay yeah, that was fine to call me - when I was 12. I'm 21 now, it's time to stop that crap.

Seriously, the only people that can give you some ridiculous pet name is a significant other. Friends; no. Family; no. Random authority figures; no. It just pisses me off when the older generation does it because it's like they're trying to capture the "youth" lingo. And growing up in the 90s, trust me, that lingo is just as bullshit as all the other decade's lingo. But one thing 90% of these people don't get is that calling people by stupid pet names based on their childhood excitement or something they said frequently doesn't make them cool - it's just really annoying and it makes them look like they're out of touch.

What they don't realize, especially those trying to recapture their youth, is that by acting my generation's age (and let's face it: my generation was raised on internet porn and high school drama shows like "Dawson's Creek".. oi) they don't look cool or trendy or "in touch". They simply CAN NOT become their kids' ages again - it looks really awkward, and let's face it, our generation doesn't idolize you. We tolerate you when you're around, and then make fun of you when you're gone because you look like someone trying to recapture your youth.

I'm not saying you should just age and feel your excitement for life slip away (or whatever). Go and have fun, but don't try and look like you're 20 again. You're going to base your ideal look on what you looked like in the 70/80's, and then attempt some bastardized version of our slut-gangsta or indy rock, or (god forbid) emo. You can't pull it off. The most casual you can look is jeans.

And for the love of god, don't hang around young people that don't give a shit about their futures. You've had a future, you know there's stupid shit young people are going to do that you won't because you'll think of the consequences mentally, physically, or emotionally (unless you're stupid). Our generation still has that future ahead of us - so we don't care if we fuck it up now. It's not like we're going to enjoy it. And in 20 years, hopefully we won't go your route.

-Mark

(Last song was Panic! At the Disco - Nails for Breakfast, Tacks for Snacks)

Your speech is slurred and I bet you might just swallow your tongue

So I downloaded the movie "Ultraviolet." I haven't watched it yet, but I heard it sucked. (And by downloaded, I mean, legally obtained a copy for awards purposes). However, it's done by the same director that made possibly the greatest movie ever, Equilibrium. Of course, the director of that masterpiece was Kurt Wimmer. He's made some pretty decent movies in the past, like The Wolves and The Thomas Crown Affair. I'm sure a few people have seen those. They're not instantly memorable - but nobody forgets Equilibrium after seeing it.

I mean, you could accidentally click this button and accidentally get the movie and watch it yourself. Honestly, given how awesome Equilbrium was, it's worth watching.

I'm sure this'll all bite me in the ass after I watch it. But every know and then, we need to turn our brains off and watch something mindless and fun, right? And being a university student, I get the priveledge of ALWAYS being able to turn my brain off.

-Mark, telling you to watch Equilibrium, and warning you about Ultraviolet.

(Last song was Editors - Bullets)