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Friday, August 16, 2013

To the Extreme: The Story of a Responsible 33-Year-Old Badass

                                                 
                                         
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       Recently I almost had to be hospitalized because of the delirious pleasure associated with turning 33. I could liken the sublime gratification I felt to receiving fellatio from a dozen glorious angels, their naked multicultural buttocks protruding from between their shimmering wings as they labor to provide me with maximum joy.  It was such an otherworldly delight to know that I am one year closer to total oblivion, and that the period of my life where I am not in constant maddening pain is almost certainly more than halfway over.



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       When I think about what an embarrassment of riches I have, not just in the sense that I have survived to this point and am now rapidly approaching the yawning chasm of middle age, but also in the sense that I have finally found my way into a perfectly ordinary job in an office, with hundreds of binder clips and hanging folders, and a cornucopia of fascinating emails that go above and beyond what I could ever possibly need, and in the sense that on the weekends I have long hours of free time, which I devote to such hobbies as self-flagellation and attempting to smother the dreams of my youth, I am overtaken by a riotous gratitude that I can neither quantify nor articulate with words.



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       After the waves of transcendent euphoria have subsided, I remember that this amusing flight of fancy I call a life has been the result of much more than just my wanton good luck, and that the almost brutal elation that I never don't experience comes largely from my burning desire to achieve goals. Indeed, there lies within me an uncanny stick-to-itiveness that propels me toward ecstasies known to only a select few.                          



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       I have become so accustomed to trouncing life's challenges that the idea of being anything less than violently successful is as alien to me as using internet porn, and I might add that the neverending parade of solid dime pieces who twerk upon my nether regions as if they were born for that very purpose are certainly not detracting from these illicit crescendos of happiness.



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     I suspect that their pathological yearning for my loins is due to my irresistible bad boy ways, which include but are not limited to maniacal risk-taking and extreme indifference toward figures of authority.






       They are probably also attracted to my rockstar charisma and virtuosic leadership abilities, which allow me to cruise through my interpersonal relationships in a perpetual state of assuredness and poise, and deftly take charge of a situation or project with naught but my instincts and a devilish grin. And though I'm sure many wouldn't care to admit it, they are also infatuated with my ridiculously bad temper, which compels me to destroy large quantities of glassware and decimate electronics as if it were going out style, as I fling about spittle and random obscenities in a charming paroxysm of vitriolic rage.






       It's curious to imagine that in some parallel universe there is a person like me except completely the opposite, someone who is so dreadfully boring and average that they would go to the gym on a Saturday night and use only the arc trainer, and read Confessions of a Raging Perfectionist on their Kindle, someone whose worst enemy is the fan on their laptop, someone whose current drug of choice is psyllium seed husk, someone who would rather sleep than have dinner with Gandhi, someone who would rather burn their towels than let them get mildewy, someone who genuinely gets a kick out of running errands, someone who gets far too excited about pens, someone who gets disproportionately thrilled about politics, someone who spends several hours in search of the right .gif, someone who goes to great lengths to be clever on the internet, in short, an enormous pussy who should probably be euthanized.



Someone who uses a four-year-old picture because they are still pleasantly
plump on account of quitting smoking, two and a half years ago.



       If such an astoundingly prosaic individual with such a hilariously banal existence were to actually be real and have a high school yearbook, and a car that is strictly for getting from point A to point B, and dental insurance and a white noise machine and old friends he doesn't talk to enough, and poster board over the window in his bedroom and a moderate amount of hair loss, and not be just another of my exuberant whimsies, I'm not sure I would want to live on this planet anymore. But thankfully he is only a most humorous conceit, like Gargantua or Ignatius Reilly except a lot less interesting, so for now I can continue with my electrifying saga.



57 comments:

  1. Welcome back. You've been missed! Don't disappear for so long again! Happy Birthday. The 30s only get better from here. Don't worry, you'll be a millionaire by 40, right? That's what I keep telling myself.

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    1. Or at least a millionaire in love, am I right? (weeps softly)

      Thanks, I'll try not to but I got really burnt on it for awhile. But in all seriousness, so far my 30s have been WAY better than my 20s, mainly because I no longer have a head full of dogshit.

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  2. Searching for hours for the perfect gif? That is very accurate. You got the best vids ever on your site, man. That baby being tossed through the Masters of the Universe and the Ninja Turtles? Outstanding. And that really white newscaster saying "Fuck yeah?" He rules. Happy 33rd!

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    1. Thanks my man, glad you appreciate my sullen craft. Hope you are well.

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    2. And good post too, by the way. Glad to see you back in the game after a long while off.

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    3. Thanks, real life is a drag. I don't recommend it.

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  3. Happy Birthday!! I received a text from a guy at work to see if my husband was watching the soccer game last night... the funny part was that it started with "I know this is truly sad that I am 30 something at home sitting in my room on a Saturday night watching the Revs game, but..."

    I of course, sent him a picture of the current project I was enthralled in for the last 4 hours of MY Saturday night, a play fort for my nephew. (Pics on the blog if you're interested)

    Know what? These are the best years of my life. So, maybe you're "alter self" isn't so bad. :) -J

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    1. Mine too, actually, but I just think it's funny how dull I've become.

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  4. wow...considering i turn 40 in 4 days...i wonder how much felatio it will feel like....ha...happy birthday, i think...smiles...

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  5. Feliz cumpleanos! Hope this weekend you can be the head receiver

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  6. Shhhhh. Don't tell the twentysomethings, but the thirties and beyond are really the best years. Happy birthday to ya-

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    1. Thanks, I won't tell if you don't. Let's just keep acting like it only gets worse.

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  7. 30's are better you say? We will see at my bay. Fine i snap and crack more than before, age is not all the rage.

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  8. Happy Birthday! This "age" thing is for the birds. I've decided I'm going to be 30 for the rest of my life. Never mind that I turn 47 in two months. :)

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    1. Thank you. I can only imagine the blinding elation you will feel.

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  9. Happy Birthday!
    "It was such an otherworldly delight to know that I am one year closer to total oblivion,..."
    I think you and I share the same black sense of humor. Whenever quitting time on Friday comes, I announce to my co-workers, "Well, that's another week closer to death."
    Yeah. I'm gonna miss me when I'm gone.

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    1. Thanks. I will be devastated when I go as well. Not sure what the world will do without my rapier wit, but I suppose it will soldier on.

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  10. Happy birthday you fine young'un!!!! Sounds like ya got a good head on your shoulders at the ripe ol' age of 33. Cheers to many more years of awesome BJ's!!

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    1. Thanks, I look forward to it as well. The way things are going, 38 should be like a dionysian orgy.

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  11. A ridiculously boring birthday to you, sir, and many more from a new follower. Congratulations on the binder clips. So many uses, such clampage strength. The possibilities are in the tens.

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    1. Thank you, madam. I know I probably came off as somewhat boastful, but they really are a joy.

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  12. Sadly, I know people that are way too excited about elections.

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    1. It's all we have left. It was either that or dozens and dozens of cats.

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  13. As a guy who's turning 30 in 2 months, I'm trying as hard as I can to fight off the awesomeness, and yet still it comes barreling toward me like an out of control locomotive.

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  14. 33? You're still a baby!....I like a right gif search, too.

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  15. Considering how screwed up I was in my 20s and how confused but trying to make it I was in my 30s, my 40s are psychological bliss, even if so many goals have been cast away, others aren't a exciting as I thought they'd be, while the rest may have to wait until I'm retired. But who knows, maybe the best of my dreams will sneak up on me as I turn the next corner...

    Happy birthday. And I mean be happy!

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    1. I'm glad things didn't go the way I planned, because I'd probably be a grotesquely maladjusted man-child now, as opposed to a prodigiously dull semi-grownup.

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  16. I wish people were infatuated with my ridiculously bad temper. I'd love to be as hardcore as that.
    Also thanks for the follow :)

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    1. I would start off breaking small things like figurines and children's toys and move up to the big stuff like vases and larger children's toys.

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  17. Happy birthday! And thank you for the enlightening prose that went along with the equally-enlightening .gifs:D

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  18. Okay, tell the truth. You were nearly hospitalized because after nine months, you finally figured out how to incorporate "...as I fling about spittle and random obscenities in a charming paroxysm of vitriolic rage." into a sentence. Blew your own age-rattled mind, right?

    Happy birthday. Glad the blowjobs haven't killed you.

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    1. In all honesty, I was gone for so long because I was saving the planet Earth from intergalactic doom. That only took a day but recuperating was a bitch. Sorry, I know that's boring. And thank you.

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  19. Clearly, you still got it! I don't know what "it" is, but you can define that one for yourself. Happy Birthday (a bit belated)!

    Thanks for visiting. I like your silly humor. It's the best kind of humor a person could have. Keep on keepin' on.

    Cheers.
    xoRobyn

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    1. It's gonorrhea, and yes, I still have it. Thank you for your sympathy. I'm glad you enjoyed this objective account of my actual life.

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  20. 12 glorious angels........still thinking about that!

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  21. 33 and one year closer to oblivion? OK, I'm down with that. Happy Birthday anyway.

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    1. Not only am I down with it but I find it positively exhilarating. Thank you.

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  22. I thought you were writing about me, but then I looked at the age again, oh and you look tons better than I do. Take care and Happy late birthday, man.

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    1. In the spirit of full disclosure I think I should tell you that I don't really look like that and in fact am actually a ten-year-old boy who looks exactly like Bea Arthur. It's a rare condition that I would rather not talk about. So I guess I have also just revealed to you that this post may contain some slight inaccuracies. But thank you.

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  23. Nice. Just when I'd resigned myself to the fact that my favorite blogger abandoned ship, he reappears.

    If you ever find opposite guy let me know. My Psyllium seed husk dealer went AWOL and I'm jonesing for my next dietary fiber fix.

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    1. I hope to God I never do find him but if I do I will most likely club him like a baby seal, steal his psyllium seed husk, and send it forthwith to your doorstep. Much obliged for the kind words madam. Your blog is one of the funniest things on the internet.

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  24. Only a dozen angels? Wait 'til you turn 40. It only gets better.

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    1. I can barely contain my exuberant delight as I wait on baited breath in anticipation of the momentous occasion of which you speak. I feel like I have a million microscopic rabbits hip-hopping through my bloodstream right now.

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  25. Only a dozen angels? Wait 'til you turn 40. It only gets better.

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  26. Eliot, you are a full-on joy. And a weirdo.

    :-)

    Pearl

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    1. That may be, but I am certainly not as much of a joy as descending into the bleak abyss of doddering obsolescence.

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  27. Happy birthday sir.

    Welcome back! Hope to see more posts by you! :D

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    1. Thanks, welcome back to you as well. I presume that for the last year you have been fighting crime, and I commend you for your efforts.

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  28. A very belated happy one-year-closer-to-oblivion!

    I hear that one's 30's are the best years of life.

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