Of all the things I’ve lost over the years, my mind is the thing that I miss the least. The thing I miss the most is my internet connection. How else am I supposed to post all my bitter thoughts across all kinds of internet platforms, if I only have two bars? Thinking about stuff is overrated. I mean who wants to be so smart that they know so many words that no one understands the words they say? You tell me what is more interesting, a lawyer that speaks boring words like torts, adjudicatory hearing, and lawsuit (the suit you wear when you are a lawyer), or an entertainment reporter talking about who people are wearing and what restaurants they are stiffing tips on? The answer of course, is neither of them. Both of those things require a mind. But with an internet connection, you don’t need a mind. You can post things on there and not have any thoughts rattling around in your brains (see this post or any others on this site). Speaking of things that are lost, here was a post that was written without any thought at all; this week’s lost bitter post:
I have a favorite speech from a movie that always sends shivers of bitterness up my spine. It is from Any Given Sunday and it is a speech at halftime by Al Pacino to a group of football players that have been bitter with each other. Basically it is about how one tiny action(he uses inches, but I didn’t want to give you sickos any ideas) can make the difference between winning and losing and how we should fight and scratch and claw for every inch(okay fine, go for it). As we know, all halftime speeches apply to our lives and should make us want to fight(for things like the right to party.)
So what is a bitter person like me supposed to learn from this speech? Well, I learned that my whole life is about being this close ”(imagine each of those quote things as my fingers showing closeness) to acheiving my dreams. In fact, I was this close ” to being in the NBA. When I was born, I was like 8 pounds 8 ounces and I was 21 inches tall (I guess. It was a long time ago.) If I was 22 inches tall, I would have grown exponentially. If you extrapolate that data, that would have made me 8′ 11 tall and whether I was coordinated or not, I would have been given a permanent gig at the end of an NBA bench. I would have been able to play 3-4 minutes of garbage time every 3-4 games. I also would have been paid the NBA minimum of 300K and no one would ever notice me (except every time I got on the plane and bumped my head). So, of course I blame my parents for not making me quite as tall as they should have.
Also, I was this ” close to being smart. At one point in my childhood I was probably playing outside(do they do that anymore?) and I got hit in the head with a bat. It was probably my fault because I was swinging the bat, but before that, my brain was fully functional. If we again extrapolate the data(doesn’t that word make me sound smart?) I would have turned into a genius party planner and I would have been the envy of the party planning industry. Don’t hate the partier, hate the party. I would have been on magazine cover’s like Scientific America and Genius’ Quarterly and possibly be up for Genius of the Year. Instead of my name being Bitter Ben, I would go by Bitter Bash Throwing Ben. See how different my life would have been if my head was one inch to the left and instead the bat would have hit my foot? Okay so I would have been a famous party planner with a limp, but still, the dream life.
Here is example of how a fraction of a turn changed my life. One time I saw a movie. I thought it was cool and really liked that people got paid a lot of money to act in it. I wanted to be rich and be overshadowed by special effects in cool movies. Even though I wasn’t very good at memorizing things, I wanted to be an actor. Pretending to be someone else is easy, right? I could take classes about memorizing things and the craft of acting. I could practice getting out of a limo and walking on a red piece of carpet and answering the question, “Who are you wearing?” (Answer: This is my friend Powder Blue Tuxedo. What is your friends name?) Then I turned to the side slightly to the side and saw a magazine. It said “The National Enquirer” on the cover. After reading that Micheal J. Fox smoked pot with a 40 foot tall alien and that Keanu Reeves sleeps in an anti-matter chamber, I didn’t want to be an actor. Why did the Inquirer have to derail my dreams of being a bitter bad guy?
So what have we learned? That my parents should have made me taller, that avoiding bats to the head will make you a genius, and reading the National Enquirer prevents you from becoming a famously bitter bad guy. And also your dreams are crushed by inches(again you guys, really?). So change a person’s life by using that little pointy arrow and move it a few inches down to the like button and click on it. And maybe even type words(comment!).
Bitter Bash Throwing Ben?