Good Worker

A good worker gets to work on time.
A good worker doesn't call in sick too often.
A good worker takes a lot of shit without giving it back.
A good worker endures depressing, soul-crushing boredom.
A good worker does what he "should" do as opposed to what he wants to do.
A good worker lives a miserable life just to keep a roof over his head.
A good worker is a sucker.
Opinions vary, but I'm a good worker, and I'm sick and tired of being one.
By the way, it could easily be argued that Sick of It All is the best, realest band name ever.  I've been sick of it all for quite a while now.  I'm so miserable at this job, and I'm worried it will be that way with any other job I might be able to snag.

Arrested

I used to be able to say that I've never been arrested: not any more.  I am a memoirist, so, for now, I'm thinking I'll save the full story for another one of my seldom-read eBooks.  Suffice it to say that I'm at the lowest point in my life so far, and that's saying something. 
I've been dealing with the aftermath: court appearances, appointments with lawyers, and asking my job to let me go to these things.  I have a long road of pain-in-the-ass shit ahead.
Also, this has been a very shitty weekend as far as my asshole neighbor fucking with me goes. 
I'm thinking I don't care about my life anymore.  Because of the depression I have, I've thought that the further I slide to the bottom, the better.  I'd rather be dead than alive.  I'm only alive because I'm a coward: too scared to commit suicide.  Life is a nightmare.  It really is.  And when I read stuff written by intelligent people, they back me up on this.  It really is insane that people procreate they way they do and continue this cycle of misery, pain, and suffering.  But I'm just repeating myself. 
Fuck life in society on this planet.  Life is shit (in society) on this planet.  I'd throw it all away and be homeless in the wilderness if I wasn't addicted to toilet paper and showers.  Fuck you society, for getting me addicted to toilet paper and showers: the only good things you came up with.

Independence Day: a Shitty Day for Animals

I was planning to title this post "Fireworks Should Be Seen: Not Heard," but I changed my mind.  Not being a child, or immature, I don't like fireworks.  I don't like the noise they make.  I heard a lot of loud noise from fireworks yesterday.  There, obviously, will be more tonight, and, in my experience, in the days, weeks, or months to come. 
But, for me, it's just an annoyance.  The sound of fireworks terrifies animals.  There is no doubt that fireworks have been used to injure, torture, and kill animals. 
Then there's the issue of barbeques.  Meat eaters are cavemen and cavewomen anyway, but the summer months are when they show who they really are.  They roast the flesh of murdered animals over an open flame: just like their Neanderthal ancestors probably did.  
Also, this is the day that they hold the famous hot-dog-eating contest on Coney Island, NY.  I heard about it on the radio today as I was driving around after buying vegan food.  It's considered to be so funny.  Those who think it's funny obviously don't give any thought to the animals who suffered before and during their murders to provide that meat.  The winner, if memory serves, ate 70 hot dogs.  I wonder if he (or she) intentionally vomited all that tortured animal flesh after the contest was over.  It seems quite possible.
Today, as I went for a walk, I walked through a park.  A woman was allowing a little girl to constantly chase ducks.  As I walked by, I said, to the woman, "They're not toys for her to play with, you know."  She looked at me.  I kept walking.  I looked back.  It seemed as though she wasn't chasing them anymore. 
Days ago, I saw a woman leave her dog in a (probably) hot car with the windows rolled all the way up.  I had just shopped after a full day of work, so I didn't' want to deal with this stupid bitch, but I did anyway  I followed her into the store.  I was thinking that I needed to keep track of the time the dog was in that car.  She came out again shortly after.  To my amazement, she left the dog in there again with the windows all the way up before heading back toward the store.
"Don't you think you should leave the windows open?" I asked her.
"I'm only going to be a few minutes," she replied.
"But it's hot," I said.  It's true.  It wasn't crazy hot out, but it was in my car.
"I would if I was going to be longer, and the windows are tinted," she replied.
The conversation wasn't going anywhere, so I gave up.  The more I argued with her, the more time that dog would have to spend in the car.  WHY WOUDLN'T YOU OPEN THE WINDOWS ON A HOT DAY FOR YOUR DOG, YOU STUPID BITCH?!
I think I'll be more aggressive in the future.  The thought of an animal dying, while trapped in a hot car, is horrible.  "Open your windows, or I'll smash them!" comes to mind.