Work It
“What is the meaning of work?” a guru asked his friend.
His friend replied, “Well, son, it happens when your wits have reached their end.”
Life is work. Work is life.
Some people, I like to think of them as motherfuckers, would have us believe shit like this.
What is work? Is it something you do in order to survive? Or is it the meaning of life itself? It seems to me that maybe, just maybe, your perspective might be based on who you are. For example, if you are The King and lounge around all day with your turkey drumsticks, your opinion that servants should pursue a life of labor just might be biased. Ya think?
Me? I’ve never been all that enthralled with money and I was born and raised into a culture where work is something exclusively done in the pursuit of money. To me money is something that enables a standard of living and some of the stuff I want. Beyond that? Who gives a shit?
So I guess it’s not too surprising that my work ethic follows suit. I don’t work for fun. I don’t work because it is its own reward. I work because I have to. Period. No other reason. Zip. Nada. Bupkis. I simply see no other choice. How many non-work life paths are there and which of them could meet my needs?
Basically the only reason I work is so I can enjoy the times I’m not working.
And, right now, at this moment in my life as a citizen of the United States, I currently enjoy the maximum number of vacation days as required by law.
Zero.
When only the full Weiner will do
As a public service I am bringing you the full transcript of tweets from the sordid Weiner Affair.
Warning: Do not read pass the jump if you are easily offended by the twitterings of the horny.
If you do make the jump, enjoy the time-honored art of seduction in all of its glory.
A tale of two headlines
Yes, my little liebchens. The posting blitzkreig continues. Is there no limit to how far I’ll whore myself out for some stats? Apparently not. Now post, damn you, post! Schnell!
Some dipshit from BP testified before Congress today. Or something. Whatever.
So I log in to my iGoogle home page tonight.
I normally eschew the iGoogle thing. It’s a bit lame. But I got this new widget thingie with a hamster that runs in a wheel, and, well, frankly, it makes it worth the trip.
Anyway. I get on iGoogle and the following two headlines blast me right in the face:
Fox News: BP CEO’s Day in Congress’ Kangaroo Court
New York Times: BP Chief Offers Few Answers, Frustrating Lawmakers
Oh, God. What a treat. Seriously, I just adore Dove moisturizing liquid, relaxing baths in Calgon, boxes of fine chocolates, sweet Zinfendel wine, and, of course, good belly laughs. Voila! My after work pick-me-up of the day.
Neither link went to a page that was clearly labeled as “opinion.” Remember in the newspaper they actually denoted which pieces were news and which were editorials? “Opinion” had its own page. On the web these days those lines seem to be blurred. To be fair, however, the Fox News piece was served up under the heading “Common Sense.” Riiiiiiiight.
Shouts from the Abyss 
Recent Comments