Some people hate life, others love it. Most alternate, but some of us don't feel strongly one way or the other. One of these days, I'm going to "wake up dead" as they say in old gangster movies. As in, "You keep messin' with the wrong people, you're gonna wake up dead." In that sense, we're all messing with the wrong people. We're messing around with the wrong fucking universe.
I'm one of those people who, by all rights, shouldn't be among the living. If this were Lord of the Flies, I would have been killed like that fat kid a long time ago. I don't have that killer instinct. You probably don't, either, but you might think you do. If so, you're an asshole. You're one of those people who says things like, "If you cross me, you'd better watch out." But the only time you've really been "crossed" in your whole life is when the kid at the movie theatre put too much butter on your popcorn. Remember that? You tore him a new one. No guff you take.
If you're reading this 'blog, though, you're probably not concerned with guff. If you're like me, you know that the world is an ugly place and life is a lonely business. Guff, which I define as life's little annoyances, is something that you've managed to put into perspective. You're just happy that you're not being eaten alive, on fire, starving to death, or an Iraqi.
Don't get me wrong, though, I bitch and moan more than anyone. I'm as neurotic as Woody Allen. But at least I know that the universe isn't out to get me by fucking up my take-out order or by having me step in shit. A sophisticated complainer like myself knows that the universe is indifferent. It's not out to get me, it doesn't even know I'm getting mail. In fact, I wish I thought the universe was out to get me. What an exciting life that would be! Every victory would be a heroic triumph. Getting the Pepsi machine to take that wrinkled dollar bill would be on par with slaying a dragon. It's so romantic. I swoon.
In reality, life is about making one sacrifice after another for the people you care about, then you die. Sort of like jumping off a building and washing the windows on the way down, just less interesting than that.
I'm a selfish prick, and I don't live in the high country with other people who make such sacrifices. But I appreciate the work of those who do. Without them, then I would have been bashed in the noggin a long time ago like "Fatty" or "Piggy" or whatever the hell they call that kid. So, being a sycophant, I at least have the scruples to want to fling myself off a skyscraper. I'll try to get that tricky smudge on the 71st floor on the way down.
Apart from that, I just want to post this story out of Utah. If I owned a corporation, I'd make this guy my CEO.
SOUTH SALT LAKE, Utah - A man accused of not paying for his Pop-Tarts has a troubled getaway. First, the clerk at the convenience store ripped off the man's shirt as they struggled when she confronted him for pocketing the toaster pastries Friday, police said. Then after the man punched the clerk in the stomach and made it out the door, he was hit by a pickup truck in the parking lot. Policesaid he got up and kept running - into the path of a minivan while he was crossing the street. He got up again, but didn't make it far. "It knocks him to the ground. He get up and continues to run, but responding police officers caught up with him just a short distance later and he was taken into custody," police Capt. Tracy Tingey said. Police said the man suffered only minor injuries.
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