Midnight To Six Flags
Right. Yossarian is putting together the old resume together. It is a pain. Mainly because I haven't done anything with my life except for have a strong desire to bone hookers. The lack of shit to put on my resume has led me to want to put intensely serious shit to fill the space and pique the interest of the reader.For example, in my work history section I never really "worked" so I was going to write, "I went to work on a sumbitch of a Reuben at lunch today." In my objective section I wrote, "You want to give me a job. And while we're at it, these aren't the droids you're looking for." With a resume like this, fortune is around the corner. Also without the knowledge of putting the french thing over the "e" for resume, I think I might be the most unqualified person for any job ever.
I was thinking of staying in for the 20. I mean the Army is easy. It's too easy. Show up and run. Done. I run well, so no one gives me any shit. All you really have to do to make a career in the Army is be able to run. Or at least beat your boss. If you can't beat a 50 year old in a footrace, then you should have maybe thought of growing a sac with some hair on it. Then I just run down my checklist: call someone a fuck stick. Check. Say some homophobic shit; "That's as wrong as two boys fucking in church." Check. Take charge; "I'm fucking this chick. You're just holding the legs." (This also degrades women, and asserts your own masculinity so you get bonus points.) Check. Do a crossword puzzle. Check. Solve problems that pop up, "I'll handle this sir." Check. Read the sports section. Check.
That is my life. People seem to think I'm going to be a fucking general one day. When pressed they just say I , "got that look." Got that look? The look of a battered wife? Because that's how I feel. I use my brain about as much as a monkey uses soap. I like using my brain. I find it enjoyable. It makes me happy. The Army hates it when I use the noodle. But nonetheless, I will leave and hopefully find something more stimulating.
I missed yesterday for you and I am eternally sorry. Also internally sorry. As in the insides of me are sorry also. Everything is sorry. Except for Peter. That motherfucker doesn't care.
We did a squadron run today. If you've never, you shouldn't. Especially if you like to run. I do. The Colonel leads the run and we have to run at his pace and we sing some songs and all in all it is stupid. But I am in a new squadron, and everyone is all, "Fuck. The Colonel runs fast. I am going to fall out." I'm thinking it's about time. If you can't do four miles in under 30 minutes, then you should think of a career change. Today we start running and I notice that I am behind five of the fattest bastards you'll ever meet. Nothing impresses me more than a fat guy who can run so I start to get real motivated. We took off at about a seven minute pace and about half a mile into the run that shit slowed down. Dramatically. It was sad. People were falling out. Puking. I mean, by the end of it we were at like a 10 minute pace. You can skip faster. I was mad. Don't piss down my back and tell me it's raining. Do not waste my time. I came to run. Not to pansy frolic through a field for an hour.
I took a pre-test online for MENSA yesterday. I got 27 out of 30 questions right. I think they should make me a member because I refuse to pay them to take the real test to pay dues to a club that will get me nowhere. I am a genius because of that, not my test score.
I look forward to the fall of all government. I got time next Thursday. I hope it happens then.
posted by Yossarian at 7:38 AM
7 Comments:
This entry was like a fruit cocktail that is full of less crappy fruit like those wilty grapes and those orange squares that are supposed to be peaches, and instead, has tons of fresh kiwi, cherries, and pieces of mango that were all directly crapped out of christ's anus.
i think i am experiencing episodes of hysterical blindness today whatever that is. i'm trying to tell you i'm having vision problems.
thursday shmurzday, you dish it out, i'm taking it. like oliver twist. gimme some gruel and i'm happy as a monkey with soap.
So I got the new job, and my apartment is unbelievable. And free. So basically I'm living in a city that is pretty much New York, but filled with Koreans, without having to pay the rent. Plus I'm getting paid. Word to your fucking moms.
The only thing that could fuck this up is the whole visa/defrauding my past employer... thing. I'll let you know how that comes out.
I'm gonna go take that mensa test. Sounds fun.
Got 29. Is it cheating that some of those are on the IQ test, too, so I knew them already?
C, you'd better not be getting married.
next time beat the Colonel
BERLIN (Reuters Life!) - A 43-year-old German decided to settle his imminent divorce by chainsawing a family home in two and making off with his half in a forklift truck.
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Police in the eastern town of Sonneberg said on Friday the trained mason measured the single-storey summer house -- which was some 8 meters (26 feet) long and 6 meters wide -- before chainsawing through the wooden roof and walls.
"The man said he was just taking his due," said a police spokesman. "But I don't think his wife was too pleased."
After finishing the job, the man picked up his half with the forklift truck and drove to his brother's house where he has since been staying.
See? That's what happens when you get married, dumb ass.
thank you msnbc for your science.
Female ‘fat talk’ socially mandatory, study finds
Kvetching about cellulite may help women forge friendships
MSNBC.com
By Sara Goudarzi
Updated: 2 hours, 45 minutes ago
It’s almost inevitable: When women get together, the chatter eventually turns to whose skinny jeans don’t fit anymore and who weighs in heavier on the scale. And participation is socially mandatory, a new study finds.
Researchers call this “fat talk,” a term coined to describe a behavior common in middle school-aged Caucasian females. But the phenomenon seems to occur in older females as well.
“We have found in our research that both male and female college students know the norm of fat talk—that females are supposed to say negative things about their bodies in a group of females engaging in fat talk,” said study co-author Denise Martz of Appalachian State University.
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Self-degradation is predictable
In one study, Martz and her colleagues showed 124 male and female college students a scene describing three women engaging in fat talk. The test subjects were then asked to predict how a fourth female would respond to this discussion.
Forty percent of male subjects and 51 percent of female subjects believed that the fourth female would self-degrade her body, in results that will be detailed in the June issue of the journal Body Image: An International Journal of Research.
“Because women feel pressured to follow the fat talk norm, they are more likely to engage in fat talk with other females,” Martz told LiveScience. “Hence, women normalize their own body dissatisfaction with one another.”
“If there are women out there who feel neutrally or even positively about their bodies, I bet we never hear this from them for fear of social sanction and rejection,” she said.
Coping mechanism
As obesity rates in the Unites States climb, more and more females are finding their bodies further from the beauty ideal put forth in the media, and thus more women could be coping through fat talk, researchers hypothesize.
“Females like to support one another and fat talk elicits support,” Martz said. “An example would be one saying, ‘It's like, I'm so fat today,’ and another would respond, ‘No, you are not fat, you look great in those pants.’”
Fat talk also allows females to appear modest, a prized quality in a culture that shuns egotism.
“We tend to dislike arrogance and especially dislike it in women (‘bitches’)”, Martz explained. “Women are perceived as OK if they fat talk and acknowledge that their bodies are not perfect but they are working on it.”
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