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In the last few entries I have ranted about global subjects or posted parts of a play I wrote a couple years ago.

For this one a change of pace... and by that, I mean a change of pace for me. I'm going to whine a little.

Whining in these journals is pretty commonplace. I don't mind it so much. I remember being young (as opposed to young at heart, as I am now) and I whined a lot.

I had a bitchy, pathologically lying ex-girlfriend (who eventually became an ex-wife), lazy job skills, was undertalented as an artist and not enough social skills to get laid (aside from the aforementioned redhead, above).

I wish I would have had an internet then... it might have helped release some steam. But, alas, Gore wasn't around and my 286/12 didn't have a modem.

Instead, since I didn't drink or do drugs, I just behaved badly and was mad all the time.

Now, occasionally I get mad... but it's more like a deep smoldering mad. In my rational mind I know things go in cycles. Clothing, conservatives, liberals, all that stuff.

As a society, we are entering into a religious fervor, as we have before to one degree or another all through history. The irony of right wing religious wackos blowing up some buildings (and I include McVey in this group) that caused us to give our country to right wing religious wackos, is lost on the majority of the population.

Its all in cycles.

A friend of mine, while I was ranting about the increased security at airports, said it didn't bother him, "because he felt safer."

"Really? Why is that? The 9-11 hijackers didn't smuggle anything illegal on board."

"Well..."

"The knives were planted, most likely by someone on the work crew."

"Well..."

"You don't fly to New York or LA, probably the only two reasonable targets of any sane insane religious bomber."

"Um..."

"No plane is ever going to be flown into a building again, because the passengers are going to rise up against any would be hijacker and stuff his box cutter so high up his ass, he'll be able to open the overhead luggage compartments with it."

"He could have a gun..."

"It won't matter... he will be rushed. And they already checked for guns before. And knives, for that matter."

"I know..."

Have they found more knives than before? Or more guns? Or a second shoe bomb? Of course, they didnt find the first one...

Well...

"All these security measures are for show... to make the cattle feel safer... even though they're pretty much as safe as they're going to get already."

"I know."

"Then why is okay you have to wait an extra hour for a plane?"

"I feel safer."

Anyway. People are dumb. People don't know how to think things through... think things through logically, I mean. Know that if it sounds far fetched... it probably is. That Russian Roulette isn't called that in Russia.

Anyway.

So, I was ranting.

I'm getting laid off on May 15th. I'm pissed. I had a good job and I left it to come to this one. Less money, more responsibility, and a nice title on the resume`. Art Director. Laid off.

"We don't know what we're going to do with your position. We'll probably spread it out to several people. Maybe hire an intern."

Really? Good luck with that. I handled over 100 artists. Have fun dealing with them with some dude just out of high school, who hasn't worked a day in his life. Have fun taking the two years it took me to learn their personalities and work habits.

Have fun figuring out which ones only worked for me because we were friends... cause we paid them ass.

Have fun figuring out which ones were better at drawing 'X', which ones got bored when they got the same subject matter over and over again, and which ones I had to adjust in the sketch stage to make their finals look presentable. Stuff never saw by the higher ups.

The game I worked on was praised no less than three times, independently, on its artwork and look. In a field where fucking badly drawn Pokemon can be printed and no one says peep about it.

Art is the most shit upon, ignored thing in card games and my work was called out. Three times.

Well, the artists work. The artists, who worked harder because I treated them as humans, as friends, instead of disposable pieces of shit.

Have fun with that.

By the way, I'm whining.

I'm also tired of asking people out and never hearing from them. Chicks, get some fucking balls. Maybe guys do it, too... I don't date guys, so I'm out of that loop.

You think guys like waiting around for a fucking phone call, either? You think we like spending an hour talking to you and having you go "This has a friends vibe."

I've got enough friends.

Do you think your rejection is going to break my heart? That my ego is so fragile that Ill do anything more than be pissed. Whine a little?

I'm a smart, funny, guy. I don't hit women, don't treat them like shit. I cook, I'm willing to go to movies or compromise on activities.

I'm smart. And funny. I've actually written and directed two plays, written a couple of screenplays, had some articles published. I follow through with projects... more than those last couple of losers you went out with... who were all talk and no action.

I have a car, a place to live that doesn't include my mom, a job (whatever), and don't get drunk and fuck your best friend. I have a good sized dick, like to eat you out, enjoy foreplay, flirting, and can stay awake after sex. I can carry you on my back, over my shoulder or in my arms.

My bad I'm not cute enough to break outside the arbitrary limitations you put on everything... age... income... height... 150pd stick boy body.

Because I know those rules you set up are set aside for that guy with the dreamy eyes... "we don't really have anything in common and he's kinda mean to me sometimes, but, isn't he soooo cute?"

Whatever.

And you know what? I'm pouring this all out because I know about three people will read it. 'Cause I have started threads and I have posted in threads, and aside from a couple of arguments about mad cow or idiots getting most deservedly beat to death, no one says boo to me on the boards. So this is for me. And my loyal friends, who need a good laugh.

I respect the goddamn hippies. I would be willing to date a vegetarian, or a fucking pacifist, or a far left democrat. But tolerance seems to only work one way.

Why am I so willing to let you prove you're an asshole, instead of assuming you are from the get go?

None of us are alone, in our thoughts, our feelings. We think we are unique and beautiful snowflakes. We think we are the only ones that have a thought. Or the only ones that feel that way. That no one else can know our pain, because no one else has lived our lives.

Bullshit. I call bullshit.

We are creatures, running on instinct and surroundings. Weve been around for a million fucking years. We've all felt the same things, we've all had the same thoughts.

We just can't convey it to each other the same way.

Where are my soul mates? Where are the people that know what I mean? That act the ways I do? Even some of the ways I do?

Where's my total package? My dream girl? My heartbreaker?

Where's my hope?

So, I whine. In relative private. Because if there is a G*d and she does know all and see all... she's seen this all before. A million million times. From all the heartbroken lovers... all the lonely losers... all the pissed off gentlemen. All the fucking screaming humanities who feel just like you do... just like me.

And why bore her any more than I have to.