I've never been so existentially numb in my life. We're watching everything collapse around us together. We all know it. We're making memes and jokes and trying to keep it together.
Right now a lot of us are playing videogames and doing video chats and shit but it feels like we're all telling each other this effort won't last. We'll soon retreat into our own cocoons of dingleberries and bodily fluids until the sun comes out and miraculously spanks the shit out of this coronavirus.
Let me be the first to tell you, I've seen the greatest minds of my generation (foreheads, we'll call them) talk about 5G and what have you and how 5G brain-controlled a random thread of code to fuck humanity in the ears. These foreheads know something you don't and you should listen to them because they have secret information and don't you want secret information? Don't you want to look as far down as the length of your forehead slope at somebody? Isn't that what this is all about?
Some foreheads don't believe in conspiracy theories. Some foreheads go out in public to shame others out in public. "LOOK AT ALL THESE IDIOTS?!" one forehead will say as he takes a selfie-video with himself always at the center with a shit-eating grin on.
I can hear my neighbors next door work on their cars. Their cars are always broken down. One of them is a nurse. One of them has tiny ankles. My other neighbor looks older and fatter than I am and is taking up skateboarding. My dog smells like hot ass. Another neighbor is taking pictures of HOA violations. Time doesn't stop. Weeds will grow. Jupiter spins.
We should apologize to Hideo Kojima. We made fun of his ideas of the apocalypse. Delivery boys would be what kept us together. We'd run on an economy of likes. I'm going to livestream myself crying naked in the bathroom with a tattoo of my Venmo QR code on my ass.
We will get through this. We are probably not collapsing as bad as it seems. I wear a bandana around my face and my glasses fog up. I take my glasses off and squint at everything. My eyesight is getting worse. I put away the groceries when I get home. I take off my clothes. I run to the shower.
My daughter grabs my glasses instinctively. If she breaks them, I'm fucked for at least a month. I don't really care though. She'll do what she wants to do. It's okay. I am happy.
It's just allergies, I swear. I'm allergic to eating live possum.
Listen, folks. It isn't eating bats that caused the virus. It's stacking wild animals on top of each other and letting them fuck. God caused this. Blame God. He's the real invisible enemy. Let's kill God! Yay!
Great. The whatever-the-fuck-that-thing-is band is playing the elevator today.
Listen, kid. I can do a trim. I can do a shave. I can do a live de-feathering. But I can't do them all at once.
Did you have an erection lasting four or more hours? Did you call your doctor? Whom but yourself is to blame, sir?
I believe it prudent to say that the New Yorker contacted me and offered me a job at their not-funny department. I told them I would cooperate. They emailed me back with simply: "coöperate." I haven't heard from them since. Too bad, too. Because I had a bunch of zingers lined up about going to a therapist, and organic free range whatever the fuck. Impeachment, what have you.
#WhereYouAt2020 !?! How is living large and in charge of your life! Don't look at me like that, y'all, I know you've been keeping tabs on everyone else's resolutions but what about your damn self!?
Let's see what's up with me!
1. I said I was going to be more social, go out to clubs, dance, cough on people, sing, and just be my best self everywhere I go for everyone who sees me. Where am I now? I'm at home writing a stupid blog post fifteen people will read but will have 85 hits because I keep refreshing it thinking it will get funnier.
2. I said I was going to shake everyone's hand, man or lady, rather than instinctively turning away from the men and sobbing uncontrollably for the women. Where are we this? #2020checkin ! Handshakes are illegal and the state of California will shoot you in the head.
3. I was all about not eating microwaveable foods this year. I did pretty good, too! #yayme but then March hit and I just don't even know! I had a bunch of Kid Cuisine in my fridge because I was studying the evolution of microwaveable foods' box design for a forty-five minute YouTube video I've been planning for years. Guess what? My microwave broke and all I have are scented candles to eat my chicken nuggets over.
4. Claustrophobia was so 2019. I wasn't about to take off all my clothes in the middle of a grocery store because somebody looked at me and I could mentally feel their breath. Now, I spend all my time making trash bag clothes-armor and beat the shit out of anyone trying to take the last thing of trash bags in the grocery store. #GetOutoftheWayYouStupidBitch2020
5. Mexico City. Paris. Venice. Stalingrad. Wuhan. Seoul. Karachi. I was going to work EXTRA all year long, pulling doubles and being real sweet to all the customers that came into the bar so I could spend the last half of the year traveling. What am I doing now? Picking my nose and debating whether I should eat what I find or just stick it under my big toenail. #surfsup
6. This was the year I was REALLY going to start touching my face without any guilt or self-consciousness. It used to be people would be concerned that my pants were unzipped on the bus while I touched my face and my John Dangler became a Stephen Upright but now they don't even care about indecent exposure. They scream, horrified, as I go around sticking my fingers as close to their eyeballs or mouths as possible.
The year is a quarter over! Let's defeat the invisible enemy so I can go outside and scream at my neighbors for housing mole people that burrow underneath my foundation and fuck all night.
What a dark timeline we are in. 2020 was supposed to be a good one.
Anyways. I work at a bar and we're figuring it out as a takeout-essentials kind of deal but our wages and business has gone significantly down. Consider donating to the Radio staff relief fund. The fact that California is on near-total-lockdown tells me that it is coming nationwide.
It ain't much but here are some free downloads to get you through thirty minutes of the lockdown. Cat Food and Toilet Stories from Outer Space. Cat Food has Flesh House in it and that one is always a popular one. *NOTE: RIGHT CLICK AND SAVE AS AND DISTRIBUTE TO WHOEVER YOU WANT. I HAVE LIMITED BANDWIDTH TO SPARE WITH DOWNLOADS FROM THE SOURCE*
All of you Ronald McDonald hating fascists are just regurgitating fifty years of Burger King propaganda.
There never was pink slime. Their meat was never gray. Their Filet-o-Fish sandwich was never made up of flash frozen yeast infection.
That was all put into the FAKE NEWS to make you sound smart as you chomped on your Wendy's burgers.
Let me take a few steps back.
SQUARE BURGERS? SQUARE FUCKING BURGERS?! That's a logistical achievement, not a culinary one. The Clown said, "I'll take the haypenny hit on having my burgers look circular like God intended. I'm not about to fit and extra half pound per box just to save a few cents on gas or whatever the fuck Dumb Ass Dave is cooking up at his little burger chain."
Burger King: what are you thinking? Have you ever been to a Burger King you haven't been stabbed at? I've been stabbed fifteen times just walking through the parking lot. It's a miracle I'm here today. They were stabbing me with paper crowns. "They" were my nephews and nieces who were so pissed at me for taking them to Burger King that they tried to kill me with their crown. There's a metaphor there. "Why couldn't we go to FUCKING JACK IN THE BOX, Uncle Andrew? At least there, I have to eat before I throw it all up!" Good point, imaginary niece. Good point.
Speaking of Jack in the Box; does it even know what it wants to be? Their tacos look like the contents of a treasure box in a women's restroom but they taste pretty good (so exactly like the treasure box in a women's restroom). Their egg rolls could fool any Panda Express slogging punk ass. They have seasoned fries. They also have burgers which makes Jack in the Box the Taco Bell of burger joints.
Taco Bell has seven ingredients that they just recombine over and over again and make a dumb name for. What is it? It's a taco wrapped in a burrito. It's a Buraco. What is it? It's a fully formed burrito stuck into a taco shell slathered in refried beans with a gordita shell plopped onto it. It's Gordurritaco. That's all Taco Bell is. The best thing about Taco Bell is when they ask if you want hot sauce and you say yes, they either dump every packet they've ever made in your bag or give you like two for fifteen tacos. Bernie Sanders isn't president yet, y'all and I've been told both these scenarios are likely under Bernie Sanders.
If you don't live in Texas, you don't care but every Texan I've ever heard pronounce Whataburger pronounced it WATERBURGER. It's so ingrained into our collective that I went to a food truck recently with a WATERBURGER on the menu and I had to ask, "Is there meat in that burger?" The guy looked at me like I was crazy but while every other menu item listed their ingredients fully, the Waterburger listed everything but the meat. "Yeah, it's called WATERBURGER because there are water chestnuts in it." Look, I don't call my burger an onion burger just because I put onions on it. I don't call it a lettuce burger just because I put lettuce on it. It's either a burger or it's not, buck-o. It was pretty good.
As I've grown, I've learned to throw away the remaining vestiges of plasticity and inauthenticity in my life. Thanks to the advice of my life coach/sexual healer, I've learned the power of authentic relating with humans and pets. Today I'm going to demonstrate how to relate authentically with your dog.
When your dog barks and chews on things it shouldn't, you need to get down to their level, stare them in the eye, and say, "I will not be bullied by you." Your dog should understand that you are hurt but it still should respect your personhood and your value in its life. If it still continues to bark, you need to get down on your knees and say, "Can't you see what you're doing to me? You are hurting me and I refuse to be hurt. I refuse to be bullied, kicked around, or shut up. You will not defeat me."
Sometimes you buy toys or food for your dog that they aren't interested in. If you find a half-eaten carrot lying around the house you need to grab it and stomp around the house until you find your dog. You need to grab it by its ears and say, "I paid for you to eat and you just make a mess all over my house that I invited you into. This contract... this relationship... nuh-uh... I'm not vibing with it anymore. I'm not feeling it. You will eat what I give you."
Your dog will sometimes yelp in its crate while you try to sleep so that you can go to work to buy it toys and food. Whenever your dog disturbs your slumber, you need to get out of your bed quietly, and you need to whisper into your dogs crate things like, "Do you understand what I do for you? I'm just trying to be real with you, I'm just trying to be honest. I'd like for you to know that I am honest with you and if I'm being honest, I gotta say, I need to go to work so that I can pay for food so that you can live. Now, I can simply call in sick and say my dog kept me up all night but then I'd likely be fired and we'd be no better than the homeless people under the bridge that feed their dogs their used toilet paper and toe cheese. Maybe I'll just donate you to one of those guys. Shut the fuck up. Goodnight. I love you."
Sometimes your dog will be incontinent or, worse, diarrhetic. You need to tell your dog, "If you continue to act as if you were a child, I will have to throw you into the street and leave you to fend for yourself like I would a child. I didn't buy a child, though, I bought a dog and I really feel like those fucking kids I passed up to buy you... well, they would have been the better investment because I've never heard of a kid who shit his pants, ate it, then promptly threw it up causing me the believe you had a bowel obstruction and wasting eighty dollars on tests only to find out that you're a goddamn shit eater. OUT OF MY HOUSE!"
Once your dog understands that you are relating authentically with it, you will have a much healthier and real relationship with your dog. You will be happier and it will be happier. Trust me.