Monday, February 21, 2005

Check out my new Dubs

I’m approaching a mark I honestly didn’t think I would reach: Ninety days.

Ninety days, a lot of crap, a few decent pieces, and I still want to keep going. This little endeavor has certainly had some unexpected results.

I have been off of the Celexa for an entire sixty of these ninety days. Now, I’m all for better living through chemistry, but I’ve never been wholly OK with the anti-depressants other than for recreational purposes. They smack of artificiality, and not in the good way. When on a steady diets of these, there are things that you know should be making you feel some way or another, yet you don’t, and that in its own way is, well, depressing.

As an outsider reading, you must be asking “How did you come to be one of the legions of the anti-depressed?” Long story short, ’00 to ’02 a high-paying, unrealistically high-pressure sales job stole pieces of my soul and “broke” something in my brain. Imagine having a heart attack that lasts anywhere from four to eight hours, multiply it by every day, and you get the picture.

Many would say that blogging serves no purpose. After all, what are they really, but slightly edited snippets of the mundane soap opera that is life? I can’t help but disagree with those of the ‘no purpose’ school. It may be a bit tougher to find, but great insight can be found in a mundane snippet sometimes, just ask some of the folks who have improved their poker game through said mundane snippets. Move over little pink pills, I’m repairing myself one word at a time.

And now, on to other things...

There is new inductee on my Persons who ought to be Thrashed list. Okay, I don’t really have a list like that, but sometimes I think I should. The new inductees are none other than the folks who started Jamster and Dirty Hippo. Have you seen these? No? Well, turn to MTV or Comedy Central and I promise you they will rectify that in short order.

I noticed them a few months back popping up sporadically on Comedy Central (seemingly with the intent on souring my enjoyment of Friday Night Stand Up), and remember thinking to myself that no one could possibly want what they were selling. After all, how many people could possibly feel as though they need a spinning dub screensaver on their phone, to be accompanied by a lame SirMixaLot ring? Quite a few apparently, as the commercials in question have gone from annoying in their frequency to downright “quick, give me that rusty spoon so I can gouge out my eyes.”

Here’s to hoping that they go away quickly, because I would very much like to keep my eyes. I realize that this wish is tantamount to wishing for world peace, but I can dream, right? One thing is for sure: I’m obviously in the wrong damn business, because there seems to be an awful lot of money in them thar crappy bitmaps and MIDI tunes.

Staying with this train of thought, I long for an idea like that which makes me oodles of quick money. Straight from impulsive consumers right into my pockets. The trick seems to be doing that while maintaining a sense of personal dignity and not selling my soul in the process. Decisions, decisions. This brings an interesting question to mind: Would you rather be unbelievably rich, being hated my many and loved by few OR would you rather be upper-poor/lower-middle on the economic scale, but loved by all and hated by very few?

Put that in your pipe and smoke it for a while. Speaking of smoking, I’m long overdue for a date with my smooth blend of Turkish tobacco (Camels, for you non-smoking readers).

This is the crap that comes out when you have to spend six hours alone at work. Thanks for staying with another episode of my mundane soap opera. I have to get home now to console the Mrs., who it seems just bubbled out of two straight SnG’s and is mighty unhappy about it. Aaaaah, smell that springtime variance…..