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Me Vs. The World: Day 1
I hereby devote my life to circumventing fate and bad luck, while battling poor service provided by the Gen-X workforce--thereby improving my station in life. Today, I engaged the enemy at the local 7-11. Without warning, my escape was blocked by an overweight woman who stank of Velveeta, and was ordering scratch-off lottery tickets. She engulfed the cashier in a discussion regarding cat food. My ice cream was melting. "Hey, tubby. While we're young, huh? Some of us have meaningful lives to lead." She waddled away. Me: 1. World: 0.
Me Vs. The World: Day 2
The world hid today, until I had to replenish my car's supply of diesel. A purple Kia BACKED into the diesel fuel slot as I was pulling forward. I watched KiaWoman jump like a hop-frog to stick the hose in the tank. A heated discussion ensued while she swiped her card and filled up. I cheerfully suggested many flaws in her decision-making process. I then watched as she pulled away in a rage. Yanking the hose out of the pump as she did so. Dullards are so forgetful. Me: 2. World: 0.
Me Vs. The World: Day 3
My enemy--the world--increased the intensity of the attack today. Whilst shaving this morning, my doorbell rang. Thinking it could be a porn delivery, I raced to the front door. There stood two shiny Mormons, dressed in full regalia. They blinked curiously at my shaving cream. They asked if I'd like to learn more about the Mormons. I asked if they'd like to learn more about the business end of my shoe up their ass. I slammed the door. For all I know, they could still be standing there. Me: 3. World: 0.
Me Vs. The World: Day 4
Disaster befell my campaign today. I had planned a luncheon junket with the local bank president. I had intended to bedazzle him with my knowledge of cuisine by taking him to the local chicken wing joint. We stood at the front counter for ten minutes without anyone coming to sequester our order. Chagrined, we left in shame. I must relunctantly admit to defeat in this engagement. My counterattack? I have sworn to spread a rumor around town that they use urine in their wing sauce. Those miserable poultry-frying bastards. Me: 3. World: 1.
Me Vs. The World: Day 5
Today, the enemy was someone I already hate. Some woman that I work with. Technically, a woman who gets paid to do absolutely nothing except bother me while I'M working. A total buttinski. This energy vampire swooped in on a red-hot conversation: Indiana HS basketball sectionals. Specifically, a third quarter comeback by the local ballteam. She actually asked, "How many quarters are there in a basketball game?" "How many quarters are there in ANYTHING? FOUR, you fucking dunce." She probably won't be coming down my hallway for a while. Me: 4. World: 1.
Me Vs. The World: Day 6
Sneak attack by the enemy. While heading for my car, a woman with three brats was blocking the path, zipping up their coats. "Excuse me, but I'm in a hurry." "WELL, I'M JUST TRYING TO CARE FOR MY CHILDREN!" came the bug-eyed self-righteous reply. "Am I fucking you? Regularly? Because if I'm not, those aren't MY kids, and just so you know, the rest of the world doesn't give a shit about them. So keep them out of my way." I hope the kids learned a little something. Me: 5. World: 1.
Me Vs. The World: Day 7
While watching Fox News tonight, I was alarmed to learn the mayor of Panama City, Florida, was trying to ban Girls Gone Wild videos from his town. During the interview, clips of the nubile zaftig dancealot strumpets were shown. Making Greta Van Sustern look even more doggy. Then, the mayor slammed a detractor--asking how high he could count. Imagine that. A Florida government official questioning someone's counting abilities. How soon they forget. What the hell are we fighting a war for if this scurrilous Nazi censorship can occur? Sheesh. Me: 5. World 2.
Me Vs. The World: Day 8
Occasionally, I take a break from the front lines to enjoy a USO show. Normally, the intensity of my campaign against the world forces me to refrain from leaving my bunker for anything but necessities. Some friends and I enjoyed Greek food and regaled each other with bawdy tales of our misspent youth. Ah yes, riverboat gamblin' on the ol' Mississip was never finer. It was a time of relaxation for the hero of our story--me. The daily battle against rampant stupidity was exchanged for the swanky uptown life. Me: 6. World: 2.
Me Vs. The World: Day 9
When enjoying my PlayStation, I never ever play fairly. I always jack the settings in my favor so I completely annihilate the computer. The sweet nectar of victory in statistical proportions Jordan would envy is soooo cherished. For example, my NCAA Final 4 2000 currently boasts the Ball State Cardinals, undefeated, averaging 162 points a game, shooting over 98% from the 3-point line, and leading the nation in blocks, assist and defensive percentage. Playing a competitive match is for fools. I get enough competition in real life, fer chrissakes. Me: 7. World: 2.
Me Vs. The World: Day 10
I work with an androgynous hermaphroditic pastel flannel-wearing girlboy. She is a chromosome from being Wally Cox. For ages, no one knew whether she was a girl or guy, and no one cared to ask. Yet this person--who would stay under their bed all day and hide from the real world if they were smart--feels she can comment on others like she's Marlene Dietrich. She ain't. She has the ambiance of something only semi-recently plucked from a shower drain. She merely passes by and I'm defeated. Me: 7. World: 3.
Me Vs. The World: Day 11
These people I work with and around. They must be exclusively employed by the enemy. Or, more properly, it is they who comprise nearly all of the enemy. They are the closely placed operatives that leech me of my will to live. Over incredibly important items like paper clips and memos. Can they really be breathing the same air I am? These shabby slack-jawed tributes to drool and mediocrity? They are the chief obstacle in the lifelong aimless pursuit of the things the master throws toward our mouths and pockets. Me: 7. World: 4.
Me Vs. The World: Day 12
Each day brings another fresh bout of dull, gray battles with the enemy. Soon, the joy of recounting these skirmishes begins to fade. They pass like breakfasts, unnoticed ceremony. Only their various personalities can engage me with any meaning. Only if I really detest an aspect of a person is the battle any fun. My swords take no joy in cutting mediocre flesh. For God's sake, if you're going to be a sap, at least be an interesting one—make it worth my while! Get me excited about the project! Me: 8. World: 4.
Me Vs. The World: Day 13
Cease-fire is not surrender. Many times, after a long encampment or particularly unnerving tussle, I withdraw from the fray. Just because the enemy is out there doesn't mean I am obligated to fight. Not when there are limitless PlayStation games, tons of unwatched porn, and indefatigable amounts of cable television to be savored. Certainly, the weekends avail me the best opportunity to elude the enemy by staying in my palacial lair. I have cable. I have DSL. I have a regal and sartorial way of life. Fuck everybody else. Excelsior! Me: 9. World: 4.
Me Vs. The World: Day 14
Fate has a curious habit of bestowing the least capable people with the most incongruous of tasks. Invariably, the least creative wall-crawling monument to spineless vagary is selected to organize the "fun" and "wacky" office function that's supposed to make us all forget we're indentured servants. This person normally makes a great pursuit of thereby squeezing anything resembling fun out of it. "Have your fun in line at the proper moment!" I hope they die in their rayon fashion that is unsuccessfuly restraining their rampant fat ass and thighs. Me: 9. World: 5.
Me Vs. The World: Day 15
I hate the bank. And I hate bankers. I have never encountered a banker or a bank that is even remotely capable of shooting straight. You call it a business, and they call it a relationship. You call it a relationship and they call it a business. I really and truly hope every banker on earth--with all their duplicitous talk--is sent to hell, where their scrotums can be twisted with red hot pliers. Then, afterwards, they can be greeted with a "scrotum twisted with red hot pliers" fee. Me: 10. World 5.
Me Vs. The World: Day 16
In a war, there are places valuable to both warring parties. Thus, it's logical that more action occurs in these places. For me, it's the local 7-11. There, I replenish supplies on an ad hoc basis, reserving major grocery runs for early morning hours when the enemy sleeps. Normally I leave, laden with groceries, and a contented smile as someone who has applied a tattoo to themself with a Bic pen is rewarded with a curious look which will melt into anger days later when they figure it out. Me: 11. World 5.
Me Vs. The World: Day 17
I'm pretty sure this is St. Patrick's Day. I don't normally like to use this forum to get all misty and sentimental, but here's what St. Patrick's Day means to me. A bunch of stupid, moronic drunken fools. People that will actually try and pinch your ass because you didn't wear green that day. One of the waddling cherubs from the secretarial area came over and tried to pinch me because I wasn't greenclad today. "Touch me and draw back a nub, butterball" was my happy St. Patrick's day greeting! Me: 12. World: 5.
Me Vs. The World: Day 18
While on one hand, St. Patrick's Day is insufferable because of the idiots on parade, the day AFTER is a wonderful time. Seeing everyone all hung over and miserable. Asking how they like that fuckin' bagpipe music and sing "When Irish Eyes Are Smiling" really loud all day while they're just trying to make it another hour at the job without tossing their lunch. That's when I bust out that green bagel some stupid office bitch gave me the day before and offer a good chunder candidate a delicate bite. Me: 13. World: 5.
Me Vs. The World: Day 19
Today, I engaged in a time honored military practice that affords me the opportunity to evade the enemy (you know, the stupid people in the world?) This brilliant flanking maneuver was possible through the miracle of the off-site office meeting. My profitable workday took a huge hit to the stern and listed badly in Productivity Harbor. Plus, the client was a hot babe with cleavage showing. I'm pretty sure she could tell I was looking at her boobs. Very nicely displayed. Victory, and a woody. What could be better? Me: 14. World: 5.
Me Vs. The World: Day 20
Once again, time stalling tactics benefited my forces. A bigshot at the office wanted to talk to me about something important. Something I didn't want to talk to him about. So, I took him out to a restaurant that serves broasted chicken. When he was about to start passing gas about the important subject, I asked him, "What's broasted mean, anyway?" I then was able to engage him in a two hour conversation about what broasted meant. By my calculations, he should remember the original topic in about two weeks. Me: 15. World: 5.
Me Vs. The World: Day 21
It's very strange walking around people when there's a war on. I'm speaking now of the war with Iraq, not the more important war I'm waging against the stupid people that surround me throughout my life journey. I see people throwing away important documents with perfectly good paper clips still in them and I am so tempted to suddenly jump up in front of everyone at the meeting and shriek out, "WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING, SHITBRAIN???? DON'T YOU KNOW THERE'S A WAR ON????" Then, people would take notice. Me: 16. World: 5.
Me Vs. The World: Day 22
Today, I just sat around and watched the war on TV. It's interesting to watch all the stations. To see which one you like the best. Think about it--which station do I enjoy the war more with? Simple logic tells you that it's the same war on every channel, but some people just do the war better than others. That Aaron Brown doesn't get it. He's waaaaay too cloying. If I were in the studio, I'd slap his silly denture-wearing face. Geraldo? No. This war doesn't need Geraldo. Me: 17. World: 5.
Me Vs. The World: Day 23
More war on TV today. I have come to the conclusion that I do not watch the war by network (CNN, MSNBC, FOXNews). I watch on the basis of which retired war nerd is on TV at the time. I dig the retired war nerds--generals, colonels, majors--all of them giving their opinions. Some of them are just overmilitaristic meatheads. Others, however, are calculating, knowledgeable death merchants. Interesting that the ones who look like they got the shit beat out of them over their protractor are the nastiest generals? Me: 18. World: 5.
Me Vs. The World: Day 24
I don't need to be convinced about this war. Ari Fleischer is convinced enough for both of us. I love him. No matter how obvious, stupid or inane the question is, he answers it. "Yes, Helen? Does the president have monkeys flying out his ass? Well, let me answer that very directly, Helen. The president's position on monkeys flying out his ass is very well known. If, in fact, some things fly out his ass, and they turn out to be monkeys, he will deal with them at that juncture." Me: 19. World: 5.
Me Vs. The World: Day 25
Do you ever think about people's socks? Not the socks themselves, but how people you know feel about their socks. My feet chill easily. I asked a guy I work with how he felt about his socks, and he said, "None of your goddamn business." He was really pissed. I apologized and told him it really was just an innocent question. He seemed pretty nonplused by it and a day later I noticed that a stapler he loaned me had been taken from my office and now was in his. Me: 19. World: 6.
Me Vs. The World: Day 26
A girl asked if I'd move my car because--get this--she and her friends wanted to protest the war and my car was in their way. WHAT???? "If it's a protest, don't you just kind of have to roll with the punches and protest AROUND parked vehicles?" "Yes, but we could protest a lot better where your car is." "Fine. I'll move it. Just blow me first. Because I'm protesting people that protest. The price to change my opinion is one blowjob." The car stayed. The war raged on. Me: 20. World: 6.
Me Vs. The World: Day 27
The great fallacy: The middle east situation expert. I've seen a billion dudes in turbans who should really be driving a cab somewhere talking about the situation. They claim to have this major expertise in the situation since they've been trying to solve the problem for decades, personally. HEY, GUESS WHAT? THAT MEANS YOU'VE FAILED FOR YEARS. So, sit down, shut up, and let the big boys run the world, OK Habib? I'm sure there'll be a Slurpee and beef jerky selling function in it for you when we're done. Me: 21. World: 6.
Me Vs. The World: Day 28
I think the most powerful person in the world is a janitor or a maintenance man. Even if the president is in his office with his top advisors discussing a real hairy world crisis, a janitor or a maintenance man can make them all leave by saying, "I'm sorry, but you're gonna have to clear out. We're changing the filters in the ventilating system." Then, even if the president gives him some static about it, he can say, "Hey, whaddaya want--a meeting or clean lungs?" That'd be telling 'em. Me: 22. World: 6.
Me Vs. The World: Day 29
As you get older, your parents can get pretty cranky. Like last Saturday when my old man starts griping about the food. I know he's my pop, but I felt it was my duty to keep things in perspective for him. So I said, "Hey, wake up and smell the coffee. That's the best cat food money can buy." I felt kind of bad about it later, 'cause I got the cat food on sale, but I think he got the point. You share love and cat food with family. Me: 23. World: 6.
Me Vs. The World: Day 30
The last place I'd want to be in case of a nuclear attack is some real fancy restaurant like Denny's or Waffle House. All the food there is perishable and you would only last a few weeks. Whereas, a good place to be would be a 7-11 or a Village Pantry, 'cause none of the food there is perishable and the person behind the counter usually has a TV, so you wouldn't miss any good shows. RULE: No nuclear holocaust if we have to miss all the good shows. Me: 24. World: 6.
Me Vs. The World: Day 31
Now, the first month has ended. I have done my best. I have faced the enemy (all the stupid people in the world) with great vigor and a relentless pursuit of victory. I have noticed that lots of the enemy conglomerate at the convenience store. They seem to be unaware of the fact that they can buy the same items at a "grocery store" for about 1000% less markup. Nevertheless, unbowed, I will wipe the dullard's blood from my faithful sword and once more enter the fray next month. Huzzah! Me: 25. World: 6.
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