and another rant is born. work on sunday night produced a pretty unimpressive 50$ and this little expression of angst, composed while waiteing on my customers. i swear the next person that asks me about the number of carbs in a glass of post-mix lemonade is gonna find out how many points my left foot will set them back. just one more person orders 3,500 calories of food and a diet pepsi with veggies subbed out for fries and i promised i'll crack and sell them as sausage. if you want to be healthier go do something healthy! do not eat at applebees it's practically impossible to eat healthy at a corporate restaurant, so take your weight watcher points your carb counting stick of butter eating anal drippage causing olestra loving ass outa my store and stop pointing your gelatinous angst at me because I'm the one filling your damn trough. you order it you eat grrrr
so here's some pointless expression of futile angst for you and please understand the i do know that everyone has problems they cannot or will not help. my real issues are with people that take a quick fix and expect it to change there lives when the product is of dubious quality and their attempt is half hearted. it you are not happy with who you are then change it but don't go all half ass.
a day in the life of this restaurant worker (ignore the spelling)
listening to the mush-mouthed surrations of another surly 300 pound carb counter gleefully consuming her daily stick of butter, smug in the satisfaction that her 4,000 calorie meal does not contain the 3 inch wide 1/2 inch thick piece of bread it normally comes with, i hear her mention that she's yet another atkin's acolyte. i wander with the carelessly unmeasured stride of the determinedly subservient wrestling with oncoming apathy. that, i so great in my own mind, should fall prey to the capricious whims of the paltry peasantry that infest this wasted highway exit town, is truly a nauseating testament to the difference between potential and actuality.
fully aware and cognizant of the freedom i have allowed to slip between my fingers with so many dollars and cigarettes, this place/time/situation has become little more than an act of masochism in exchange for the means to continue mortgaging my life.
it's not that i believe myself to be better than they, it's the awestrikeing spectacle o the human condition being lowered another notch, another haphazard nail in the slip shod pine box of evolution.
the spine tingling terror of watching that vaunted process of self growth degenerate and stagnate into an ever accelerating critical mass of widening bodies and narrowing minds. these helpless worker bees, of which i am a de-facto member, sit and consume their caloric opiates blissfully unaware of their lack of growth. possessing only the kind of depth that the fissure left by a pulled tooth can attain.
the saddening maddening rush to fill the void with whatever immediate gratification is at hand be tit food fuck or finance degenerates whatever advances we've made, sweeping away in one blank glance every step we've taken since we first took one without the aid of our knuckles
so here i am wanting a beer and having a cigarette instead, one face among many we compare and contrast our various transgression and blasphemies in the face of our own potential. i am not the one-eyed king in the land of the blind. i am the soul sad wall-flower at the last party on doomed Titanic.
****************************
yes i know how pretentious and overly wordy this is but it IS an angry rant and it's hard to rant if your not at least alittle mad and feeling some undeserved self rightousness
please i invite comments and criticisms. roasting or praise talk to me folks.
so here's some pointless expression of futile angst for you and please understand the i do know that everyone has problems they cannot or will not help. my real issues are with people that take a quick fix and expect it to change there lives when the product is of dubious quality and their attempt is half hearted. it you are not happy with who you are then change it but don't go all half ass.
a day in the life of this restaurant worker (ignore the spelling)
listening to the mush-mouthed surrations of another surly 300 pound carb counter gleefully consuming her daily stick of butter, smug in the satisfaction that her 4,000 calorie meal does not contain the 3 inch wide 1/2 inch thick piece of bread it normally comes with, i hear her mention that she's yet another atkin's acolyte. i wander with the carelessly unmeasured stride of the determinedly subservient wrestling with oncoming apathy. that, i so great in my own mind, should fall prey to the capricious whims of the paltry peasantry that infest this wasted highway exit town, is truly a nauseating testament to the difference between potential and actuality.
fully aware and cognizant of the freedom i have allowed to slip between my fingers with so many dollars and cigarettes, this place/time/situation has become little more than an act of masochism in exchange for the means to continue mortgaging my life.
it's not that i believe myself to be better than they, it's the awestrikeing spectacle o the human condition being lowered another notch, another haphazard nail in the slip shod pine box of evolution.
the spine tingling terror of watching that vaunted process of self growth degenerate and stagnate into an ever accelerating critical mass of widening bodies and narrowing minds. these helpless worker bees, of which i am a de-facto member, sit and consume their caloric opiates blissfully unaware of their lack of growth. possessing only the kind of depth that the fissure left by a pulled tooth can attain.
the saddening maddening rush to fill the void with whatever immediate gratification is at hand be tit food fuck or finance degenerates whatever advances we've made, sweeping away in one blank glance every step we've taken since we first took one without the aid of our knuckles
so here i am wanting a beer and having a cigarette instead, one face among many we compare and contrast our various transgression and blasphemies in the face of our own potential. i am not the one-eyed king in the land of the blind. i am the soul sad wall-flower at the last party on doomed Titanic.
****************************
yes i know how pretentious and overly wordy this is but it IS an angry rant and it's hard to rant if your not at least alittle mad and feeling some undeserved self rightousness
please i invite comments and criticisms. roasting or praise talk to me folks.
VIEW 7 of 7 COMMENTS
Excellent ranting, check out my new pics from NYC and other events