An excellent dinner: stirfry beef and eggplant with homemade peanut sauce. Why do I ever buy dressings and sauces from other people? Mental note: never do that again. Next time no beef, just a handful of cashews or peanuts. Increasingly I think I can and should do without meat. A year from now I bet I’m a vegetarian. Washed it down with a very nice glass of ’01 Pouilly-Fuissé. Later, I’ll have yogurt with berries. I can still eat well and not kill myself.
Again: homemade peanut sauce is so much better. Peanut butter + rice vinegar + honey + soy sauce + sriracha. Heaven!
During the benefits meeting they introduced two new benefits: a subsidy for well-child checkups for dependents under 18, and a benefit for health care of same-sex partners. I think I’ll switch teams and get an underage boyfriend and see if I can make money.
There’s more to life than books, you know, but not much more.
Note to jobseekers: my local supermarket is hiring scabs for a strike. Here’s your chance to cross a picket line to sell Lunchables™, Chef Boyardee Ravioli, and fake artisanal bread to the local quality.
I think I realized at a very early age (maybe 8?) that I am destined to be an observer rather than a participant in life. I think I read a Shakespeare play and realized that I sympathized only with the Chorus. Things haven’t changed so much since then. People around me lead flamboyant lives, full of sex and money and violence and poverty and alternative lifestyles and huge unresolvable conflicts. Meanwhile I sit in the corner, weighted down with a tremendous stone, and occasionally intone a comment or judgment upon the scene before me.
When I need to be with someone, I desperately crave social intercourse, or cuddling, or something more. When I need to be alone, I’m a distant, icy asshole. I need a partner in life who is just like that and exactly in sync with me. Dysfunction junction, what’s your function?
I’m a terribly angry, judgmental backstabber. All of my humor is negative, but I’m a great coward. I talk about you behind your back. I am duplicitous, fearful, lecherous, and dependent.
However, I make a darned good stir-fry.
Be My Blog 
were we separated at birth…?
really… i mean…really… i could have written that. (except the peanut sauce recipe that i’m going to steal from you)
i want to hang out with you… you rock, when so few do…
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Does this make sense? It seems to (after three pumpkin ales).
Dude: the food sounds good, except for the peanut sauce. I hate peanut sauce–which means I dislike most Thai food.
Why be simply a vegetarian in a year, when you can be a “vegetarian with benefits?” Eat veggies almost all the time, but treat yourself to the occasional Philly-chicken-cheese-sandwich or shellfish. MMmmmm…
Not everyone is leading flamboyant lives. Or maybe, everyone seems to be doing so, but aren’t. As they say, “the grass is always greener….” For instance (and this is a self-centered story because I’m a self-centered-bastard and this actually came up today, so it is still fresh on my mind): all these people in that Matrix game I have been talking about are looking up to me as “that cool guy with the site full of information” and all that, thinking I’m an uber-hacker or the best game player ever. I’m not. I’m the court scribe. I’m looking up to all these OTHER people who have a ton of time and energy–people who are figuring out all the puzzles. I am just maintaining an index of their discoveries and helping to focus people’s efforts. I AM A FRIGGIN’ MANAGER, and people are thinking I’m cool or something, yet I’m looking at the people “on the front lines,” thinking they’re living on the cutting edge.
Really, it’s like high school. Everyone seems like they’re more cool than they are and everyone seems to be having more fun than they do. You just do not have to study as much or worry about the bully throwing you into the trash can.
“I hate you, Milkman Ignatz!”
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it doesn t count as behind my back if you tell me oh wait we don t know each other carry on
>I talk about you behind your back.
awwssa, you hurt my feelings.
Seriously, though, I can I.D. w/ much of what you say re being an observer. Well put. I’m Mario, btw, I don’t think I’ve ever formally introduced myself. Or mebbe I have, I forget.–mza.
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I talk about you behind your back.
Everyone talks about me behind my back. I make it too easy. But are you lecherous when you talk about me behind my back?
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During the benefits meeting they introduced two new benefits: a subsidy for well-child checkups for dependents under 18, and a benefit for health care of same-sex partners. I think I’ll switch teams and get an underage boyfriend and see if I can make money.
Federal law would require that you pay taxes on your underage boyfriend’s benefits, and it wouldn’t require him to be covered under COBRA if you lost your job. It’s not a money-making proposition.
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Yeah, in fact I figured that out during the meeting. Looking at the data sheet and how the money was split up I suddenly got it: Feds hate same-sex partners. Go us.
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I’ve found that when I swing from the needy friend to the bitchy friend, I ultimately freak out, think nobody likes me everybody hates me guess I’ll go eat worms, and go on a social fast.
I encourage you to avoid this behavior as it will make you go freaking nuts. Better to switch your brain off and have fun.
Also, COCKS!
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