I woke up Sunday very sore and somewhat sick. Coughing. Aching. Sneezing. Dying. I’m still sick and sore today.
But it wasn’t all that horrible. I got to be lazy and watch NFL all day like I do on Sundays. I also ordered a pizza and ate it whole in less than 30 minutes.
Saturday was simple. Woke up early to play soccer. I went out to eat a burger. Had some great craft beers. Went to bed early. Soccer is what probably has me so sore now.
Friday was great and productive.
I had an interview with a friend for an upcoming article. An article that I’m going to be working all this week. the interview went better than I expected. I still haven’t heard the recording, but I have quotes in my mind that I know are perfect for the article.
And it’s an article I’ve basically had in my head for many years now. It’s Monday. And I get to work on it. But I feel so sick.
Also, that same Friday after the interview, I went to go get a haircute. Yes. I call them haircutes. It is not a typo.
I took shirtless selfies of myself to show the haircute. To be honest, I thought it would be weirder. Much more interesting picture. Probably if I shave.
I also regret doing it shirtless, what a douche. But the best pic of long hair happened shirtless, so I had to follow through with shirtless thing, what a douche.
Now, my reason to get a haircute is simple. Actually the reason why I had long hair in the first place is fucking dumb.
I don’t like getting haircutes. My barber left town. My hair started to get long. I didn’t want to get a haircute.
It wasn’t because I wanted a manbun to offend everyone. It was part of it. But the real reason is “fuck it I don’t want to get a haircute.”
You might be wondering then, why did I get a haircute? Everyone is like “you are dumb, getting your haircut when winter is coming, and having it long for the summer.”
If you follow me, you know that I take cold showers. Have you taken cold showers during winter time? With long hair?! That shit fucking sucks. Now with short hair I’m in and out in a jiffy. I don’t have to worry about cleaning and combing my long ass hair making tiny little dreads to not clog the shower drain. Nope. Short hair. Quick rinse is all you need.
See. I also took pics with clothes on. But they were pretty terrible. Taking pictures of yourself is hard yo.
Now it’s Monday. The whole week ahead. And a lot of work for me (I hope). Also, gotta do laundry and I’m great and not doing laundry.
The article that had me heartbroken because it got rejected got published yesterday. But it’s a shorter and a worse version than the original. I cut the article to a 1/3 of what it was. I also got a 1/3 of the pay. It is also a 1/3 of the quality. And I wish they accepted the full version because I liked it way better. But who am I to decide what runs and what doesn’t. What is for sure is that I have to spread to more publications. I am always wanting a job, but perhaps is just better if I expand on my freelancer abilities. Depending on just a couple of editors of the same publication is not smart for any freelancer.
———————————– Bristol Palin
Time to get fucking political again.
And it’s not my fault that I need to vent out. Trump is still headline everywhere you turn. The news that fake news is now news and it generates money makes me want to write fake news. This NPR article is what I am talking about.
Man. If I got my shit together. Put it all together in a bag. And really got it all together. I could be making tons of money. Going viral with stupidity to get cash sounds like an easy job. Though I still strive for quality over stupidity and quantity.
And here I am. Still reading everything about the fucking Donald. Everyday is still more surreal. There’s nothing to do but wait until everything goes to shit or some other interesting shit happens. Or maybe at the end it will be nothing. 2016 is ending. Everyone is calling it one of the worst years ever. And shit. Tons of people died and the president elect is … shit. I still don’t have the right words for it. People call him buffoon. That’s way too light.
The alt-right movement or whatever the fuck you want to call them people who think the apocalypse is around the corner has been a thing before Trump. Sarah Palin and Michelle Bachmann were the clearest fucking indications of it. The whole political system has been a joke since a black man became the first president of the United States. That’s where it all began.
Sarah fucking Palin.
She could have been the vice president.
That was already fucking surreal to me.
McCain wasn’t a horrible republican. That dude still has somewhat of an integrity. Fucker lost because he was old and chose Palin as a running mate. And now the president insults McCain and might give Palin a role in something.
Now, I never saw Sarah Palin. I wish I did. I did saw McCain which I already posted here.
Who I did see was Bristol Palin. One of the daughters. She has several right? It’s fucking idiotic that someone who is supposed to be celibate until marriage got pregnant, not once, but twice without ever marrying! Fuck. I still can’t fathom wtf?! It seems like the rule instead of the exception. If you are religious figure/preacher, your life is more fucked than what you preach.
Anyway. I thought I only saw her once. But I actually have three different folders of her. One when she cried (I have no idea why and I don’t remember this shoot). The other she took pictures of me taking pictures of her (and the best set). And then one when she is with her sister, and she is smiling and being nice. I don’t get it.
I only remember the best shoot. And barely. I wish I saw Sarah. She would have been one hot-ass idiot milf vice-president. And in theory, McCain could have suffered a heart attack or some shit and she could have been president. What a time to be a comedian!
First picture is of September 9, 2010. Again, not sure why she was crying. The rest of the shoot is crappy.
Second shoot was the best shoot. The flash is never great. This is just a month later on October 6th, 2010.
And.. her taking a picture of me taking a picture of her.
And finally. On February 2nd, 2011. I don’t even know why she was so nice that day. Only the best pic of a short set of her smiling.
Time for some breakfast. And start the transcription of what will be a 2,000-3,000 word article that I’ll be working on the next few days.
Man. Fuck being sick.