. . . and that’s a bad thing, how?
There’s nothing to do. You’re gonna go to work, come home, eat and then figure out a way to kill time before you go to bed. This usually involves watching TV.
Every person you know, including your closest friends and relatives, will eventually hate you, disrespect you, or completely forget all about you. Either that, or they’ll die.
God does not exist. There is no saving grace. You are nothing more or less than a carbon life form existing for a brief spate on this ball of dirt. Money can’t buy you love, nor a place in a heaven that doesn’t exist. Good works count for nothing. Charity is for suckers. The poor deserve what they get. The rich will always get richer. Either way, it’s meaningless in the end.
“This is the way the world shall end, not with a bang, but a whimper.”
Whether professionally, romantically, or any other way you can think of, you can be replaced.
You’re only one bad decision or moment of stupidity away from being reviled on the news, tossed in prison, or dead.
You might as well never have existed.
(extra points if you can identify what movie this is from)
Once the network axes your favorite television show, as much as you’d like to think that you and the other fans can pull off a “Designing Women”-style resurrection through the force of your collective outrage, the party is most likely over.
(I just came out of reading an “Angel” thread.)
What are you missing… probably the greatest show on Earth.
*As soon as you finish school you can stay up late and watch Jay Leno. Don’t sweat the job, it kills time. What was it Drew Carey said: Everyone hates their job. There’s a support group for it. It’s called “everybody” and they meet every Friday after work at a bar.
*Ferrari’s and Lambroginis are nothing but UFO’s with little style. There are people out there building 1000 hp Supra’s for significantly less money. When the light turn’s green, who’s da man?
*If you’re a guy and take longer in bed you will be met by an older women who is in her sexual prime and appreciates it.
*You can write a novel if you want but the world is filled with people who have special skills oozing from every pore. It is your duty to appreciate these people. Think of yourself as God’s personal envoy who needs to seek out and report all the good stuff.
*Taxes make it possible for you to drive to a blues bar in your homebuilt sports car accompanied by someone you love to listen to talent that would take you years to appreciate. All this and a beer to forget how much you hate your job.
*You are probably twice as good at wasting money as any government and you can’t blame anyone for it. Paying taxes gives you the right to bitch about it. Bitching is fun. Keep Fridays open.
I’m convinced there is a God and he has a sense of humor. Death is the ultimate practical joke. And if God wanted you to have absolute proof then there wouldn’t be any challenge to it. Keep your $250K and buy yourself something nice.
You can go through life pretending caviar is yummy or you can enjoy the freshly made cracker that is used to hide the taste of it.
You cannot salvage everyone, no matter what you do. Some people are simply determined to sabotage themselves.
Nice, Magiver! What you wrote may not be exactly a dose of the most depressing reality, but that pretty much sums up how I see it, too.Took awhile to get there, and while it’s sometimes hard keeping the mindset, I think the benefit is worth the effort. Just color me Pollyana’s older, drinkin’, smokin’, shopworn sister. 
Also, I totally liked your quote about the caviar and the cracker.
Some people are just plain BAD, the best you can do is not be one of them.
- Health is merely the slowest rate at which you can die.
- Right now you are closer to death than you’ve ever been. And now you’re even closer.
(if you’re single) The older you get, the more people that you’ve grown to like and adore will get married.
No matter what religion you are, you are always going to some other religion’s hell.
There are many things to be cynical about. Here are 714 of them.
HEY! The party isn’t over until Monday May 4, when the suits make their…
Aww, fuck it. Of course it’s dead. Everything you enjoy–everything that thrills you, makes you smile, makes you cry, makes you believe, makes you bleed, entertains and enlightens you, will be killed. Why? Because it doesn’t make as much money as “Who Wants to Marry a Midget Millionaire After Life-Altering Plastic Surgery Pagent!”
Strangely enough it works the other way around for me. And for some reason I often think about it when I have a night train ride. I look at some high tension line, for instance, and I think there are hundreds or thousands of people doing little things here and there, in nuclear power plants control rooms, on pylons, in dispatch centers, and the power runs down the line. I watch at a truck on the road and I think that is driver is going somewhere, bringing something important for someone. And the stuff will be used for god’s only know why… perhaps process food that will be sold and bought some days later, by someone who himself…And the road on which the trucker is driving : there are people maintening it, and maintening the emergency phones which can be used to call the firemen who currently are waiting somewhere ready to go, and they can go there quickly because their mechanics have spare parts produced in some factory and, and, and…
And I’m thinking about all these people who are doing small little things, from the guy sweeping the floor to the high-ranking civil servant working in this office about some obscure regulation. All of them know and understand only a tiny little bit of the whole picture, and nevertheless, this results in an incredibly complex system , that nobody can really grasp, and which nevertheless actually works. My train runs, the power flows, the food will be tomorrow on the shelves of huges cities shops. It truly amazes me.
These ones I fnd truly depressing…
While I agree that television caters to the entertainment empaired it serves us well that Leave it to Beaver is not in its 40th season. Lament not the ending of the show but the vacuum it creates. If you find yourself sitting at home every night in a false hope of seeing an episode you missed it is time to venture forth into the realm of live entertainment.
Some day another show will come along that you can call friend.
Actually, there are hundreds of them waiting for you. All perfect matches for you.
One was in the car car you just crossed on the road. He was driving distractly, wondering if there’s a true love waiting for him somewhere. Another is living in Bombay. Sometimes, he thinks about visiting your country. He will never do so. Another yet is going to be married tomorrow. He’ll have a couple children and will be reasonnably happy. Another spent all his life in this small town you went to once, when you were a child. He’s sad, tonight, and feels lonely. He thinks he messed up with his life until now. He thinks he’ll do better in the future. He won’t.
There are hundreds of them waiting for you. But none of them you’ll ever meet.
Nobody’s gonna wanna hire you after you’re 40, no matter what all those life-affirming magazine stories say.
There is no “safety net.”
Your only hope is to give out before your money does.
Life’s a bitch, then you die.