Illustration: November 4, 2008
Made by illustrator Patrick Moberg.
I also love this short video, illustrated by Patrick as well.
Life sucks since 3 years…
EDIT: The comments made it less ugly to look at. Cheers mates!
As soon as i started to work as a janitor at my current job 3 years ago, life went downhill. My skills are not appreciated, i am totally underpayed and my boss acts like a effin’ nutcase — most of the time.
I don’t really know why i am still working here, probably because the job in general is not too bad: Most of the time i am my own boss and the job never gets boring. I do have a lot of freedom, working with kids in our hostel is fun and sometimes i can work from my own appartement when i do network and website stuff. And it is a job here on the island, the place i love more than anything in the world.
But since i am so motherfucking underpayed for what i do, i collected a good amount of debt on my credit cards. Actually i do not have a problem with debt, well — if the debt is worth the hassle of giving up a little bit freedom. For instance, i went to Canada two times for two seasons of snowboarding without a penny in cash. Of cause i gave up a huge chunk of freedom for that, because it took years to pay that back to the credit card company. But believe me, it was worth it!
But now i am in the same debt like i was after 2 seasons in Canada, but for what? I tell you, for having a bloody job! So here’s what i did: I abused my cc’s for what i have earned less than before every month: I used to work at the beach for 10 years where i’ve earned about 1500 € in cash, now i do work even more as before and i only earn about 1000 € in cash every month. Splendid.
And since i am in debt again, i feel like i am not free do to and go where i want. Bad timing, because i feel like life is yelling for some actions by me, loud as the fog horn on the Queen Elisabeth II. So what are my chances? Should i try and win the lottery? Should i try to rob a bank? I am usually full of great ideas when it comes to solve those problems for other people, but right now i feel empty like a belly full of water. If you got 5000 euros you urgently want to get rid of, I am your man — and besides, my “Rich Journey” deal is still up for grabs as well! 
It felt good to write this down though.
Maybe i should not listen to my parents and stop worrying about those few thousands i owe the bank. It‘s just money i don’t have, right? Just stuff i owe some corporation. It’s not that i made anyone suffer because of that, right? It’s just a deal. Riiight?
3pm, the infinite hour
Found this at the everquirky Morkduffin. Saved me an hour of mayhem by reading it in repeat mode:
9: Coming into the office, I’m jazzed. I log in, check my email, read the news, check a bunch of blogs where people who aren’t as smart as I think I am rant on and on about how Bush stole Ohio and Social Security is going to cause everyone to die at fifty and think that anyone actually cares about Dean v. Rosenberg.
10: Coffee! Go out, walk down the street, get a cup, and by the time I get back, it’s almost 11, which means…
11: Plan for lunch! Get out the menus I’ve got in my desk and fantasize about the food I can have at the many reasonably priced, easily-walkable lunch establishments in downtown San Francisco! After a bit of that, I’m ready for
12: Lunch “hour.” An “hour” gives you fifteen minutes of leeway on either side. The Lunch Choice Of The Day will probably involve Moo Goo Gai Pan or a 2/3 LB Monster Bacon Butter Cheese Human Lard Plus Thickburger, Topped With Whipped Cream and Deep Fried or (if I’m really unlucky), Subway sandwiches that suck so much even that alien cyborg Jared Fogle couldn’t eat them and lost weight. I go to Subway; it’s close.
1: Still at lunch “hour.” Done with eating, spending time at the table at Subway watching all of the really hot advertising chicks who would only talk to me if I threatened their mothers with a garrotte, and only then if they’d get a new handbag out of the deal.
1:20: Back to the office, time to check on the news in case anything happened in the late morning (Hey, Rudy T is quitting the Lakers!). Then it’s food coma. Sit at my desk clicking the mouse every few seconds to shift between programs, trying to make the windows somehow make a pattern as interesting as the screen saver I used to get stoned to back in college when I were supposed to be doing term papers. All that education is getting a workout now!
2: Still food coma. It’s about now that I should probably get some actual “work” done. Nothing like some cover sheet composition and printer paper jams to pass the time.
2:30: Ah, a post-lunch dump with a couple of printouts from ESPN.com. Bliss.
2:45 Oh no.
2:50 Christ, no.
2:55: It’s almost here, shit. Finally, I get off the toilet just in time for…
3:00 THE INFINITE HOUR. Time grinds to a halt. It’s too early to think about leaving, the food is gone from your stomach, you can’t leave for a coffee break because you spent so much time on the can earlier and someone would notice.
3:05: Are you kidding? Frantically scan the best-of-craigslist for something entertaining, only to find that Craig only updates the damned thing every few weeks.
3:09: Homestar Runner hasn’t updated either, Shit.
3:10:25 Check email. The send/receive button seems to be broken.
3:15-3:20 Fantasize about what the world would be like if 3:00 could just be skipped.
3:20:38: Check email. Apparently my penis is too small, and these guys want to help!
3:25: Start revenge fantasies. If 3:00 were a person. Shit, it *is* a person. 3:00 is that little pimply-faced fuck who *everybody* hated in elementary school; not because he was a nerd (the nerds kicked him out), but because he was a little bastard. That fuckhead tattled on everyone, made fun of the geeks for their subpar transformers collection, insulted the big guys for having too much earwax, tried to make girls touch his private regions during square dancing, and (to top it off), sucked at kickball. He’d be standing there insulting everyone while teams were chosen, and both captains would look at 3:00 for five long minutes and eventually embark on a best-of-11 rock-paper-scissors match to see who would have to take the little fucker. Then he’d kick into double plays, drop the bouncy red balls, pick his nose and wipe it on other people, and once he even pooed his pants. At age ten! What an ass.
3:30: That rant only lasted five minutes? 3:00 must die.
3:32:41 Check email. Nothing.
3:35: Think about ambushing 3:00 before the work day tomorrow and kicking the shit out of it. I can see the headline in the Chronicle: “Anthropomorphized time period assaulted. Suspect busted out of the pen by cheering crowd of cubicle slaves.”
3:38:12: Write email, realize I have nothing to say. I swear, hit send/receive, and watch the blue Outlook bar cross the screen.
3:38:18: Hey, that was fun! I do that five more times.
3:40: Drank three straight cups of water–going back and forth to the cooler is fun!
3:45: Watching the clock on my desktop. Resetting it to atomic time over and over doesn’t make it go any faster.
3:48:19: Check email. I qualify for a home loan! Even though my name is misspelled!
3:50: Cutting fingernails down to the quick and using the clippings to write things into my arm. I end up with marks that make me look like a heroin addict who can’t get his shit together.
3:52: Oh, dear God, end this hell now. Somebody post a funny blog entry or let a natural disaster strike somewhere or let George Bush say something stupid or anything at all. I hate my computer and I hate my co-workers and if that stupid fuck from Siebel calls again to help me maximize my sales potential I will hunt down his children and turn them into a poorly done, first-try-is-just-for practice taxidermy project.
3:53:01: Check email. That’s it, I’m hiring mercenaries, invading Nigeria, and stringing every banker in the place together by the balls, coating them in honey, and dropping them naked into a polar bear refuge in Siberia.
3:53:09: Check email. Nothing. I hate all of my friends.
3:54: The phone rings. It’s the guy from Siebel, wanting to “follow up” on a couple of “action items.” I’ll “action” his “items” right back up his smirking, job-security-having ass, until he has to sit backward to attempt to impregnate his wife. I won’t even try to explain that one. Figure it out.
3:56: I’m a puddle. I resolve to get hit by a car every day at 2:57 to avoid the 3:00 hour.
3:56:01.8: Check email. My dick just gets smaller, apparently.
3:57: I don’t even bother praying to God any more. It’s obvious He hates me, and invented the human race for his sick sport. Otherwise He would have made the day 23 hours, instead of 24. I pray to Satan instead, offering to become a serial killer and harvest souls for His Dark Majesty if He’ll only make the next three minutes go by at any semblance of normal speed.
3:58: Satan doesn’t answer. That cheap fuck.
3:59: Attempt to pass out. Fail.
3:59:21: Check email. Nothing
3:59:29: Check email. Nothing
3:59:31: Open up the clock icon in Windows and watch the second hand go by. I swear the programmers made it like those clocks in elementary school that tick *back* before they tick forward. I hate Microsoft. They’d be the first souls I’d harvest for Satan if the Prince of Darkness wasn’t such a cheap fuck.
4:00: I slump to my desk, exhausted, wrung out from the weeklong hour that just passed. In celebration, coffee!
4:15: The guy at the coffee place has huge dark circles under his eyes. I wonder what the Infinite Hour did to him?
4:30: Ah, coffee buzz. Peeing all the time because of all the water I drank earlier.
5:00: What? What happened? I’ve got a few things to do before…
define: Cunt
The word cunt is only insulting to Americans and over zealous feminists who don’t realise its beauty.
It has almost replaced the word ‘mate’, often used in Australia to refer to people in a conversation when they can’t be bothered trying to remember your name. Here are two examples:
Sick Aussie Cunt: Sup cunt?
American feminist: I find that insulting!
Sick Aussie Cunt: Piss off.
Sick Aussie Cunt 1: Sup cunt?
Sick Aussie Cunt 2: Nothing much, cunt.
Via Urban dictionary.
One more thing
Totally unrelated, but did you know that Kate Hudson is the daughter of Goldie Hawn? I mean, that’s bad news, right?
iPhone hype, but english please!
I’d like to convince a lot of people (my boss, my parents, my friends, etc) to try out the new iPhone. It would make life so much easier if more people around me would choose an iPhone (and hopefully — and this is my main point — buy a Mac as well after they got hooked on Apples simplicity).
If they would speak english, i would just leave ‘em alone with one of Steve Jobs keynotes, but most of my people simply do not speak english well enough to get it (“Boom!†just ain’t enough to cut their cheese).
Where, dear Apple, can i find a Keynote with German Subtitles?
Sure, the Germans (replace Germans with Italians or Dutch or etc if you like) have a little iPhone buzz going on as well, but this seems to be limited to those “few†who understand what an iPhone “can doâ€.
You are missing a huge opportunity here, Steve.