HEY FUCKERS #3: MY YEAR-END TOP 10 LIST

Well, it's the end of the year, and as per usual, the internet is clogged with top ten lists. I'm certainly not going to add to the mess, so this isn't actually a top ten list. I guess this is just me fucking around while I'm at work. So . . . let's see here . . . I got it! How about a joke?

How do you circumcise a leper? Shake him! Get it? Eh? *cough*

OK. Um . . . How about a fun fact? Did you know that Elvis Presley's favorite amusement park ride was the bumper cars? Or that Cracker Jack is the number one buyer of popcorn in the world?

I guess you're not a better person for knowing those things, though. This knowledge is pretty useless.

Everyone can benefit from knowing about quantum physics, though. I'm not going to get into it, because I'm just a writer with a high school science education, but here's a pretty good place to learn about stuff like that.

Well, I guess I just wasted your time today with this one. I guess I wasn't thinking. I could wish you a happy new year, but--

OH! Don't you hate it when people say they're going to see you next year when they really mean, in all likelihood, that they'll see you in a few days, but they're only saying that because today is New Year's Eve and the next time they see you will be in the year 2015?

Ah, who gives a fuck? Half of the world complains about those people, and the other half are the actual people who do that. It's the same every year. Someone will say, "I'll see you next year," just as soon as they'll give you another useless top ten list.

GOODNIGHT, FUCKERS #46: PATHS NOT TAKEN

I've wanted to be a professional writer for so long, I've completely forgotten what I wanted to be before that. I've always known I would need a day job, but what was my path before I went down the road that would lead me to STRIP, TALES OF QUESTIONABLE TASTE, POOR BASTARDS AND RICH FUCKS and all the other projects I have waiting in the wings to be released?


I've been thinking about it a lot because, as I'm sure some of you have noticed, I'm not happy with my day job right now, for reasons I may someday publicly talk about. I look at all these smooth motherfuckers who make a living by creating their own jobs, which has its appeal, but I wonder if I would be able to live with myself. I could, for example, be a self-help guru. I help a lot of writers. I give fairly good advice. I think I could make a pretty penny at that.


But it wouldn't be my rightful calling.


Or how about being a "professional friend" or cuddler? You know the people who rent themselves out to other people who don't have friends. They hang out and pretend, and for a while the customer is happy. Or those people who throw cuddling parties. I think I could get into things like that.


But neither of these things would be my rightful calling.


When I was in junior high, I wanted to be a scientist for my day job. A biologist, in particular. I learned I had an aptitude for it. Science class was the only class I ever looked forward to. I got a kick out of the experiments we did. Would I have ever been a great scientist? Probably not. I could probably have made a living as a mediocre scientist working for a great scientist.


That might have once been a calling, but it wouldn't have been satisfying in the end. Who wants to just be good enough at something?


I think I'm stuck with dead-end jobs for the time being. But I still think about those paths not taken. I hope quantum physics is right about alternate universes, because I know that somewhere in existence, I'm a scientist. Or a self-help guru. Or a professional friend. Or a cuddler. And I think it would be fascinating to meet all those other versions of me.


Who knows? Maybe one of the me's in the multiverse is a bestselling author.