Elton Says Things: 2012...Fuck You.

      As I tweak the nipple of yet another new year, I have chosen to use this post as a reflection on all that I have accomplished the previous year. I do this, not only a personal record, but, as a way of showing how much I suck and what a complete failure I am. May my short comings be inspirational fodder for those who make yearly resolutions...and fucking fail at them. You're not alone, in fact, as you will see...you have nothing to feel bad about. Apparently, God hates us all.

The Unemployment Dance

Word.

      I started this year on a high...and low. Unemployed! For a lot of Americans, that means, I was either suckin' on the sweet tit of public funded charity (i.e. state sponsored alcoholism) or using unemployment compensation as a way to buffer against falling on hard times (brought on by irresponsible corporate monsters). I'm happy to report, it's BOTH, with a side order of PORN FOR DAYS!

      I was earning a fat unemployment check and doing "nothing" for it. If "nothing" can be defined as callus inducing masturbation. I, for a while, was living the American dream...until a feeling of worthlessness consumed me. Usually, its takes me at least six months for that to happen, but, with the deluge of newly discovered "free time", it was much sooner. 

      To compensate and not tear my dick off, I ate my free time...literally. I ballooned up. [Oh, side note: weight lifters looking for a great way to bulk up? Get shit canned and depression eat your way to muscular greatness. If that is how you do it. What the hell else is weight gainer powder for? Do sweaty balls need powdered protein? Hm...what?]

Fingering A Keyboard

Yeah. You like that, you sexy bitch?

      So, as any bored unemployment suckler would do...I tried to make an animated cartoon. Ambitious, I know...especially since I've never, ever done it. Ever. Still, like a succulent bourbon, will grant an idiot, drunken confidence to show his penis to a super model, so, unemployment compensation will empowerment an idiot into a career choice beyond his skill set. Doctor Elton, anyone? 

      Alas, as I lurched toward conquering the field of animation, I found my writing skills had atrophied a little, since, I hadn't a written a fucking thing in years. So, like any clear minded man-child, I started a blog! 

      It's a bit cliche, given the unpopularity of Perez Hilton and his ilk (and that fucking Huffington Post) I figured, I couldn't go wrong. Regardless, I threw down my gauntlet and gave it a whirl. A few hundred insults later...here I sit, barely an inch from where I started. It's better than nothing I suppose. I could be wallowing in a tub of my own filth, sobbing uncontrollably and forcing myself to watch Dawson's Creek re-runs...because I'm too stupid to deserve better. I mean, I could do that...but, what would gift myself on my birthday?

Oh, The Better Stuff

I have no idea what the hell this is, but, it 

came up on a search for "better stuff". 

      Blogging my ass out...apparently, I wanted to diversify my "portfolio" a bit. I have no idea what that means. Really, I figured, maybe I could write for other people. Why not? I had tons of time to kill the shit out of. 

      So, with the help of Funny or Die, Comedy Rants and Sinquiry (all of which are hellaciously funny on their own and in no need of my constant dick banter) I am trying to expand my foray into writing laughable shit on the internet. It's not an easy task, mind you. I can only say poop, piss and fart chugger so many times before it gets old. Right not, I'm close to maxing out my quota. Might have to pay a fine with my ass. Blech. 

2013...shit.

Exactly.

      As it would happen, this year has started out...exactly the same: jobless, depressed and wanting to drink heavily.I feel I'm somewhat further ahead, however. I have this...fucking blog thing up and running. Plus, I have a lot more opportunities to spread my diseased mind across the internet. Not all bad, I suppose. I hope you'll stick around for my asshole antics and ranting. Maybe I'll become "professional"? Yeah, right...when dicks fly.

U, V and W are for Unemployent's Vacant Wideness

      There's something exquisitely dismal about unemployment compensation. It feels like a form of charity, with less nuns and government over sight. People who receive unemployment are seen as lazy, system leaching parasites that sit around all day, getting sit faced, giving the finger to babies and unwed mothers. While two of those things are probably true, the system leaching parasite portion is way off!

The jerk that fired you pays for it too! 

     Regardless, the stigma towards being unemployed can be disheartening. Even more disheartening is the empty time people are knocking you for isn't your fault. There's always a down time between getting canned from one job and picking up another, equally suck ass job. No one is ever prepared for the void that not working leaves in your life. It's not apparent at first but, it creeps up pretty fast. 

      When you have a job to attend to, you have somewhere to go and something to do. There is a set criteria and expectations regarding production during your working hours and you plod through the day to meet them. It's amazing how slaving for "the man" occupies both your body and mind. When it's suddenly gone, there are countless hours to fill and no one to tell you how to fill them. It seems like a blessing, but, you find out, sooner or later...it's not. Drinking and masturbating, as it turns out, only fills so many hours.

Porn is suspiciously absent from this list.

    Drunken pity, self-sex aside, empty hours can play havoc on the brain. Don't get me wrong, not having to do shit all day can kick ass occasionally. Those "special" days when I'm at the mall, sitting on a bench in a bathrobe and cowboy hat, staring sternly at passersby, while playing Neil Diamond's greatest hits aloud on my iPod, would never happen if I had a job. Believe me...some of those days have changed my life, but, there are far better things I could have been doing. 

Starting that much needed beer planking fad, perhaps?

      I pondered the question of what to do with my time for a few depressing days. Okay, maybe not depressing, there were hallucinogenic laced milk shakes involved, various drunken exchanges of "I love you"s with strangers and once...and only once...an emotionally abused orangutan. Don't get your panties in a bunch...the fucking monkey started it. If it didn't want to be reminded of it's forced removal from it's mother and her subsequent poacher death , it shouldn't have, via sign language, called my Mom a cunt. Fucking monkeys. It doesn't even know my mother! Oh and for future reference...orangutans can cry while giving the finger. 

He's more personable when he's sober.

      I eventually stumbled into blogging as a way to pass the time, better my writing and possibly make money. Instead of, you know, feeding dollar bills into stripper's g-string college funds. Which isn't a bad way to spend a day or two either. It's just costly and disease ridden. Blogging definitely helps with that (sorry disease ridden strippers). 

College and baby formula are just going to have to pay for themselves, Glitter Devine.

      So, if you should ever find yourself lost in the immense gulf of time being jobless creates, I suggest blogging to fill your hours. It's a great way to pass the time, augment or develop a bankable skill and you meet a lot of great people along the way. Plus, you might get an income out of it. There's nothing wrong with that--oh, don't look at me with those "what the fuck!" eyes...of course I mean after you tire of the drunken binges and touching yourself...that was a given.