Round and Round She Goes… Planet Stupid Totally Blows!

Wanna know what I love most about unemployment?

Take a wild guess…

EVERYTHING!

Especially the NOT HAVING A FUCKING JOB part, it rocks!!

Not sure where this fucked up road on Planet Stupid leads to next, but whatever insanity sits around the next bend, it’s gonna have to wait, cuz I’m takin’ a looooong, well deserved rest in the “I-don’t-give-a-flying-fuck-to-participate-anymore-in-your-fucking-reindeer-games” campground, where my 4-season tent is fully erect, lol.

But, interestingly enough, I’m quite certain this ain’t the first time I’ve started a blog rant extolling a similar — if not identical — sentiment.

Hmm…yup…

After a quick keyword search on the BonerFruit homepage, it seems I have indeed been down the I’m-So-Fucking-Happy-To-Be-Free-From-My-Shit-Fucking-Job road at least 3 times since moving to this craptastic town.

Hmm…

That ain’t so fuckin’ good, is it?

In fact, that realization’s a bit of a slap upside my stupid-ass head — an unexpected wake up call. It hearkens the quote:

“Insanity is repeating the same thing over and over, expecting different results.”

Apparently I have just enough common sense to get the fuck out of a situation before it breaks my mind, body, and soul, but not enough basic intelligence to refrain from entering the same bullshit foray again and again and again.

So now it’s time once more to play everyone’s favourite game…”What if?”

I clearly don’t do this often enough, else I wouldn’t be telling you ’bout how much I love not having a job… and then getting another job… and then telling you ’bout how much I love not having a job… and then getting another job… and then telling you ’bout how much I love not having a job… and then… yeah, you get the idea.

I have a cool post about the “What if?” game that I wrote many moons ago, and I’ll leave you a link to it at the end of this page if you’d like to engage in some supplementary insanity. Oops, I meant supplementary reading.

For now, let’s play the simplest version of this thought experiment, and see where it goes…

Ready?

If you knew for certain you had exactly one year left to live on Planet Stupid, what would you do with your time? What would you do today? What would you do right now???

Think about your answers. Take your time. But not too much time, cuz you’re gonna be dead soon…

I love (hate?) this game because I (more often than not) answer myself with:

“What the fuck am I doing? Seriously!! Why am I wasting my time on this shit? How come I’m not [fill in blank here] every fucking day????”

And therein lies the importance of the game… putting shit into perspective… recognizing priorities… distinguishing the trivial from the meaningful… and then making new choices — choices that are bold enough to finally extricate oneself from the putrid quagmire of braindead routine and conformity… choices that nourish and incubate the greatest joys buried deep in our hearts, allowing them to finally break free of the fear-based social conditioning we’ve been inundated with since birth.

We’re all gonna be dead soon. Dead and forgotten. In a hundred years, no one’s gonna give a flying fuck whether you lived or died. Your contribution to Planet Stupid won’t have meant shit, so why are you wasting your time playing a game that doesn’t give a shit about you?

Let’s end this on one more quote that just came to mind:

“When one door closes, another opens.”

That’s all fine and dandy, but a tad short-sighted — basically pompous rhetoric of some phony positivist trying to sound all smarty-pantsy. I can paraphrase the sentiment much more functionally:

“There IS only one door — only one that truly matters. And you’re gonna have to decide whether to walk through it or not. And if you do, it’s not going to close behind you, you’re gonna slam the motherfucker shut yourself, cuz goin’ back ain’t gonna be an acceptable option.”

Lol, I guess that was a tad bombastic. Prolly won’t fit on a mug either, haha.

Anyways, enough for now. Go do the shit that makes you happy. To hell with the rest of it.

Later

P.S. Homework

Guest Post of the Week: “Ain’t No Cure for the Summertime Blues”

DUTCH FISHING BOY TALES, Journal Entry #627:
by Bobby K

Dear Diary,

My buddy Mike is coming over in half an hour, but I still gotta get the grass cut so my mom doesn’t get pissed at me, especially after that last fiasco when I said I’d take out the garbage, but I forgot to do it for like 16 days or something, I can’t remember…

I’m gonna get high as fuck first, and crank out some unintelligible screamy tunes. Gonna play my shit loud enough to wake the deaf comatose old fucks at the hospital. Gonna be awesome!

Oh fuck.

Umm, as I was finishing the lawn, I crossed the walkway to the neighbour’s apartment. I totally smoked their welcome mat! It blew out the side of the mower like a flock of angry birds trying to escape the pits of hell.

FLOOOMP!!

Shit, I gotta remember that word when I tell Mike this story. It was more like…

FLOOOMPHH!!
Yeah! That was the sound!!

He came over and said we should just find the pieces and put it back together, and no one would notice.

We did our best.

But now it just says CUM.

A Little Social Commentary Never Hurt Anyone… Except the Whiny Fucking Bitches

Just a quick shout out to my beloved subscribers…

The “contact” form and “leave a comment” links are functional once more, no thanks to my worthless, piece of shit tech flunkie.

[Editor’s Note: You ARE the piece of shit tech flunkie, psycho]

Continue reading A Little Social Commentary Never Hurt Anyone… Except the Whiny Fucking Bitches

Good Enough for Me and Bobby Mcgee

Ah, freedom.

Ain’t nothin’ quite like it.

The sun shines brighter, the birds sing sweeter, and the cat litter smells less putrid.

The physical realm our meat-suits currently inhabit is considered by some to be a school of some sort, or perhaps a playground — a temporary construct for a greater consciousness to learn more about itself, to acquire novel experiences from a limitless variety of unique perspectives, and to foster growth and evolution… Continue reading Good Enough for Me and Bobby Mcgee

What the Flying Fuck Happened?

I remember the good ol’ days when Daily Bread was actually fucking daily!

I remember the good ol’ days when writing less than 3 blog posts a week felt like I was being lazy.

I remember the good ol’ days when pumping out at least one book a year was routine.

I remember the good ol’ days when the winter holidays were something to be excited about — feasts with the family, extra days off to chill and relax, snowshoeing, cross-country skiing, handcrafting stained glass or paintings or anything non-store-bought to give away as presents to friends and family…

Continue reading What the Flying Fuck Happened?

What’s Your Fucking Major Malfunction, Soldier???

I’m of the mind that bottling up emotions ain’t a good thing. I’m of the mind that negative energy should be channeled away from the body as quickly as possible. I’m of the mind that a little screamy, yelly rage is fantastic therapy, cuz once it’s done, and out of the system, happiness resumes.

So lemme share a quick story before I go stab one of my loser, faggoty co-workers in the face with a fucking fork…

All I wanted to do was get home.

Get home after 5 weeks of stupid fucking Xmas parties, stupid fucking insane Russian old ladies yelling at me, and zero fucking days off to do the 9 loads of laundry piled up on my filthy bed that my Kitty Kat climbs like Mount Everest.

Just as I was about to turn into my driveway, and crack a pamplemousse vodka soda I bought at the Quickie Mart to numb the pain of my existence, I realized the driveway was blocked.

Not blocked by debris, the recycling bin, a small filthy child, or other shit I would happily run over.

Nope.

The cocksucking snowplow came by to make everyone’s life easier and more effective.

The cocksucking snowplow motherfucker put up an ice wall barrier to make my safe space inaccessible, so the streets could look neat and clean.

The cocksucking snowplow motherfucker hasn’t the slightest clue that I’ve never had an issue driving down the road, never got stuck or snowed in or lost traction because there were 8 inches of melty white shit on the street, but thank Jesus he came by to pile it all up right in front of the lane I was going to turn into.

Thank you faggoty cocksucking snowplow motherfucker piece of shit!

Love you!

So I had to park my truck (sorry van, van, I’ll get it right one of these days) on the side of the road and go find a fucking shovel to facilitate access to my safe space to numb my brain.

You know what’s better than shovelling your driveway at 10 pm when all you want to do is fucking sleep?

Oh, I know…

Jamming an ice pick into your cock.

Fuck you loser snowplow piece of shit motherfucker douchebags!

Stick to the highways, your side street service is NOT FUCKING REQUIRED!

BURN IN HELL YOU SLAVE WAGE GLOW IN THE DARK ORANGE VEST WEARING TURD MUNCHING REDNECK CUNTS! FUCK YOU!!!

And…

I feel better

 

 

 

 

Why Can’t Everyone Fuck Off and Die???

I clearly fucked up somewhere navigating this stupid reality. Or it’s possible God just hates my guts, and toys with me like I’m some loser rescue-cat obsessed with playing in old Domino’s pizza boxes, meowing desperately when no one’s fed me a bowl of tuna for at least 17 minutes.

Back in the good ol’ days, before my brain became somewhat enlightened and aware (EDITOR’S NOTE: NOT ENLIGHTENED OR AWARE!), shit just rolled easy peasy. Everything fell into my lap with minimal to zero effort… the bitches were all over me, my mural painting business was rocking, my band was rocking even harder, and I didn’t give two fucks about asking the deeper questions about Life, the Universe, and something else from a Douglas Adams title.

I don’t really understand how developing a greater empathy for humans has shunted me into an isolation box.

Now don’t get me wrong, I’m much more content putting other people’s priorities before my own, but just don’t understand why being more attentive and caring locks me out of my golden ticket familiarity of getting whatever the fuck I want whenever the fuck I want it.

Whatever.

Fuck you and your irony God!

I really can’t wait to work another 10 hour shift tomorrow. Or today, whatever the time is. Insert facetious emoticon graphic here.

That’s it. That’s the rant. It’s short, I don’t care, fuck off and die.

Also, love you!!!