This month has not been one of my best. It seems as though, in one near-fell swoop, the universe is desperately trying to offset the bottomless bounty provided to me upon birth (eyes, lips, hair, brain, humor, abs, nose, buttocks, charm, fashion sense, unit, fingernails, etc etc etc etc hahahaha...).
There is no God [or if there is, may he strike me dead on the spot...I DARE HIM! See? He didn't. That's just as much proof that he doesn't exist as anybody can offer me that he DOES exist], but if there were, I would tell him to go fuck himself. Why? Here are 9 reasons why:
(1) Until a few days ago, I hadn't worked in six weeks. I was (am) broke. And that was after taking a few months off to write a script. So I've been semi-paralyzed by financial woes present and future. Which is why I was looking forward to a free week-long trip to Big Sky, Montana. Montana was fabulous--skiing, relaxing, New's-Years-Eveing it in the hot tub--until mile number 2499, when (2) my car stopped working 2 miles from home.
Don't worry, though, it got fixed rather quickly, and (3) for only $1200.
No sweat. I'm loaded. Well, at least I thought I was--then (4) my only two paychecks for fall 2007 bounced because the payroll company went out of business due to yet another embezzling corporate asshole. Subtract $1000 from my bank account, leaving my balance (5) at an impressive -$660.
"Shit, dawg, my life majorly sucks right now," thought the douchebag inside of me, but he was wrong--it was actually pretty good at the time. Everything is relative. I went out to my car a couple saturdays back, only to find (6) my front license plate missing, as well as the license-plate holder. Huh. Whatever. Then I noticed (7) the tickets on my windshield--one for parking in the spot for more than 2 hours, the other for having no front license plate.
Later that night, despite the vortex of negativity ominously swirling around me, spirits were high after seeing 'There Will Be Blood' and having a few drinks with a friend. I drove home, parked my car, and walked three blocks to my building, thinking about whatever random shit runs through my head at any given moment (the lyrics to the theme song to Mr. Belvedere?). Well, right across the street from my place, a couple kids from the neighborhood decided to (8) stick a knife in my throat and relieve me of my new iPod, my phone, my car/house keys, my wallet, and the $6 cash that was inside.
Luckily, when I pleaded for my keys back ("Leave me my house keys or I'll pee on you through my pants!"), one of the gentleman was kind enough to throw them into the street for me. As a result, I thankfully didn't have to spend the night clutching my knees and muttering to myself, in a pool of my own filth, on a sheet of cardboard outside the post office, but instead was able to get inside and grab change to cancel my credit cards and such. Well, except for the one that was closed "until 9am Eastern for a system update," which was then rung up for a hundred million dollars worth of gas all around Los Angeles (you're welcome, oil cartel!).
I don't have to pay for the gang's gasoline addiction, obviously, and I have complete confidence that the police detectives who pound on my door every other morning at 7:45am "to get a few more details for the case" will catch the little shits and get my $6 back, but it still sucks. That little iPod was so cute!
Oh, (9) and I'm fat now, by the way. So that ain't cool neither.
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