I can't tell if my ambition to change every aspect of my life (except for my weight, apparently [throws saltwater taffy wrappers into wastebasket]) is fueled by a genuine desire for change, or sheer panic and anxiety. I've been having the heart palpitations that used to only occur after my fourth Red Bull in a sitting. I don't get boners when I should and I get them when I shouldn't. I'm a fucking wreck. Either way, when I'm done with all of my projects, life should be better. Or I'll kill myself. It's a draw. If I did kill myself, I'd do it in some sort of hilarious fashion. I'd jump off of a building and shoot myself in the head while I fell. I'd suicide bomb Mel Gibson if I could find him. My self inflicted death would be my last joke, but would likely be received like all of my other jokes: Shocking, uncomfortable, and people would laugh knowing that they really shouldn't.
But I digress. I'm on week three of not having expanded cable. My choices of shit to watch is certainly limited, but that's fine. I just have to wait for my shows to hit Hulu or for my Torrent client to bring me my "Entourage" and I'm knuckle deep into whatever I really want to watch. Other than being able to rewind live television, I'm not missing shit. Fuck Comcast. Fuck 'em. $100 a month to watch a bunch of infomercials? Why am I paying to watch shit that people are getting paid to show? It's a scam. Other than On Demand, there's nothing of value there. For $9.95/month, Netflix can give you all of the "on demand" you could ever want. Of course, you need Comcast internet for that to work really well. Damn.
I'm still contemplating my "low dough" budget wedding service. Something like $399 for officiating a wedding and DJing the reception. I DJed a wedding (my first) last Friday for some friends and think I worked out the bugs. Biggest mistake: forgetting to turn on my awesome disco ball during the dance part of the event.
Back to the Grill. Yo.
goochout
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