Category Archives: Wasting Time

Random babblings?

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Women. What is up with you. If I see another weblog entitled “Random Babblings of ________” or “_________’s Ramblings” or “________ is an Unoriginal Twat”, I’m going to vomit. I don’t do anything here but spew forth nonsense, but at least I’ve got me a title. And at least I can manage to do something other than repost “memes” (and they’re generally not even proper memes… read some fucking Richard Dawkins), or Wednesday Wastesoftimes or Friday FuckifIcanbebotheredtocomeupwithsomethingoriginals. I don’t understand the point of any of this BS. Is it some kind of public wank-off? Is there something people are trying to prove? Because I can think of easier ways to expose yourself on the internet. And even if you think that kind of thing is degrading, it’s less spew-worthy than reposting LOLcats and e-cards from someecards.com (yes, they’re hilarious; no, they don’t take the place of your own content) (and my methods pay much better, FYI).

If you’re trying to remain relevant to actual real human beings that you know in actual real life… you might try posting something of actual real relevance. I’m freakin’ embarassed for women on the internet. There’s a Digg for chicks out there, ya’know… Called Kirtsy. I joined up, and I regret it. The popular posts are all either “Ooh! Look at these shoes!” or, well… “Ooh! Look at this [other thing you can buy]!!!” Once in a while there’s a recipe for shit you can cook for your man (that’s what you care about primarily in life, right?), or… WTF more friggin’ shoes. Or some shit that was obviously submitted by another one of those independent, work-at-home-mom, pay-per-post, oh-so-respectable-because-they’re-doing-it-on-their-own, fucking disingenuous blog spammers (I love hearing about which products you especially are into consuming this week) (and they submitted their own site, woop). Ooh, but they’re ladies. So it’s okay? Entrepreneurpfft! I don’t give a shit about cars, but I think I’ll stick to regular Digg. Less posts all about “OOOOH! PONIES!” P.S. I’m not a mom, but I do know that there are enough pointless-shit-for-moms-to-buy-please-I-need-your-advertising-zeropointnonecentsperclick sites to make me kill well into my 17th spawning.

Is this how regular females connect to other regular females? Lists of shit they want to buy? I don’t fucking know. I’m in the middle of a two-week-long migraine, and I’m not going to dig much deeper right now. But, ladies… WHAT!? Science. Math. Art. History. Did you know that there are things on the internet other than shopping? Fucking hell, try out some god. damned. porn! It’s less pathetic than posting the results to your latest “Which ______ Character Am I” quiz, and if you tell us all about it, you might even be interesting for ten seconds.

Shotgun Weekend

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Ah, the weekend. Two weeks ago, I didn’t have these. If you don’t have a job, go to school, or belong to a religion that observes a holy day of some sort, the week has no beginning, and no end. It’s an endless loop of doing whatever the fuck you want. You don’t know what day of the week it is, and it doesn’t matter. You don’t know what time it is, and it doesn’t matter. If you feel like getting drunk at 10am on a Tuesday, that’s alright. You can go to bed at 4pm, and wake up hungover at midnight. If you feel like using an entire day to alphabetize everything in your house, that’s fine, too. You won’t feel like you’ve wasted time you could have used to do something that was somehow better. You don’t need to feel like you’re having the most fun, the best possible fun, the most fun per ounce, every second of your free time, every single day — because time is one thing you’re definitely not short on.

But this weekend shit is stressful. I don’t need all this pressure to have a good time. I kind of feel like sitting here, doing absolutely nothing, which is pretty much what I am actually doing. But I feel like I could be enjoying myself so much more effectively doing something else. I’m going to regret this later on, I know it. Tonight, just as soon as I realize that there were so many other things I could have done instead, and I missed the opportunity. Definitely tomorrow, when it’s Sunday, and it’s my last chance to get things done (before 5pm when everything closes, at that — talk about pressure). And on Sunday night, when it’s the last minute, it’ll really already be too late. I’ll have to go to bed early to wake up on Monday. Ah, Monday. When I’ll want to shoot myself in the face for having wasted the weekend.

I really kind of like sitting around doing nothing. So why does it feel like such a waste of time? Or, why should I feel like wasting time is not something I should be okay with?