Lolwut?

Life is fucking hilarious.

No, really. Think about it. Almost every part of everyday life can be thought of as funny. 
     Let's start with food. Like a pop tart. You unwrap it, stick it in your mouth, and chew the shit out of it like it's the soul of your mortal enemy. From there, your conquered sustenance rumbles and gurgles through your slimy insides in a masticated mess until it comes out. Through your ass. I find this HILARIOUS. You put things in your mouth so that they will come out of your ass. And if they don't, you get all worried and make haste to the nearest physician. All because something doesn't come out of your butt. 
     You don't think that's funny? Well, then, as Kurt Kobain said, you must be a closet pedophile. No, really. He said it. Look up the history of the baby on the cover of Nevermind. 

     On to the next one: sex. 
     There's a small animal attached to your man. If you touch it, or take off your clothes, or bend over, or walk three steps, or cock your head, or raise an eyebrow, or touch your hair, or eat a Popsicle, or dance, or cook, or clean or have a PHD or go to the bathroom or drive a car or have a job or like The Band Perry or watch tv or do ANYTHING, it gets hard. 
     Then, between your  legs, those two tree-trunks of flesh and bone and hair that we hate so much, there's a hole. This small animal wants to go in the hole because it is dark and warm and small animal can hide in it. And if you move around enough, weird noises are made, and small animal named Penis throws up all over. 
     Think about it, but not too much. This is pure comedic gold. Sex is the funniest thing on the whole damn planet, when it doesn't make you sick. Buttsex is even funnier, but we'll save that for another time because I don't know anything about it other than what my gay friends tell me.
      Sex is also a great way to make money: all you gotta do is find some rich old bastard who will do anything to make his small animal throw up. He'll pay whatever you want, because guys can't survive without that shit. That's the funniest part! 
  
     How about coffee? That's a riot. 
     You arrive at Scarfucks during Morning Rush. You're in a hurry to get to work, because you forgot for a second that billions of other people want their coffee too, and you--yes, the Almighty You--must wait in line. Damn it. Damn it all to hell. These fuckholes are going to ruin your day. You wait, and wait, and wait in the crush of business-clad bodies reeking of last night's beer until (FINALLY) it's your turn at the register. You order a mochaccino machinati with extra vanilla, three pumps of espresso, no foam, light foam, whipped cream, skim, soy, and toasted almond. 
     Holy shit. This upstart barista says no such drink exists. You were SURE it did, you saw it on The Colbert Report. And she has the balls to ask you what SIZE. The fuck. You say your order again. You scream it. YOU'VE GOT A FUCKING GOLD CARD! DOESN'T THAT MEAN ANYTHING!? You bellow, you put up your dukes, you demand to speak with the manager. Of course. She is the manager. 
 Enraged, you order a small coffee instead. Holy shit, it's a dollar and a half. Don't these assholes know that you need the Nectar of the Gods to function?! The nerve. Think about it: 97.666% of the world can't function without a cup of brown water. Or brown water thrown into half a gallon of milk and syrup. I think it's funny. 

     Boobs! Breasts are two big bags of fat welded to your chest. Fat! We hate fat! But guys love them! Why? We'll never know, but it sure is funny! I made good use of mine by paying somebody to put metal bars into them. Now they're pierced and I am cool. 

     Asses! There's a song that my boyfriend's friend made up to remind herself what guys like. It goes like this: "ass and titties, ass ass and titties!" Guys like ass, and it's yet another Mystery Of The Universe that we will never figure out. An ass is another bag of fat, with a crack down the middle. It's also the location of the Ass-Hole (see my second paragraph). 
     
     Dentists! They make money by sticking their hands in your mouth and causing you pain! I think it's funny! 

     Oatmeal! Who eats that shit!?

     Nudists! Hilarious! 

     Dictators! They think they're the shit, we think they're humorous! 

     Testicles! WHAT THE FUCK!?

     Ok, so do you see my point now? Life is funny. Everything in life is funny. Especially YouTube. But also things like sex and food and oatmeal. 

Hang on, 
Ness

Artificial Sunshine

Well, here I am, six months later.

It's been six months to the day. I'm still here and much the better for it. 

My six-month anniversary of life is heralded by iron skies and dubious weather. The clouds can't hold it in, so my hair's a wreck. I have a voice lesson today. I spent all last night getting drunk off my ass and trolling around Allentown looking for Starbucks and lost cigarettes. 

     Nobody knows what day it is, except me. But that's enough. 

     There is no sunshine today unless I make it. Whether or not a smile still holds power when it's forced remains to be seen. But I'm feeling ok today, and I wonder what the next six months will be like. The next six years. Will I buy a new car? Will I get married? Will I write the song that's going to make me famous? Or will I still be fucking around at Starbucks? Will I ever move out of my parents' house (please, please, please)? Will I go somewhere really neat on vacation? Will I hit that fucking jump on my snowboard and actually land it? Will I feel pretty? Will I take dance classes? Will anybody dance with ME? Will I start drawing again? Will I hit a high A without sounding like a drowning cat in a toaster being steamrolled by a hippopotamus?

     I have gained 20lbs since January...taking me from 98 to 118. I have a BMI of 15. My hair isn't blonde anymore...it's the sub-standard shit-brown I was born with. I have changed. 
     My kidneys are still fucked. My legs are still shot. I still like tshirts with pictures of food on them. I am the same. 

     No matter what happens, though, I'm still Ness. And I'm still alive. 

Hang on, 
Ness

For No Reason At All.

They say everything happens for a reason. I don't believe them anymore.

That's a load of bullshit. Everything happens and we find reasons for it. "I lost my job, but I had to in order to get a better one." Lies. A better job can be found by looking. "My car died...but I think this is God's way of showing me to save for the future." Lies. God doesn't need to kill your car for you...cars die on their own (at least mine do). 
     The truth is, stuff happens and if we're optimists, we look for ways to learn from it or grow from it. If we're pessimists, we decide that life just wants to shit on us. 
      My question is, which one am I? 

Hang on, 
Ness