blog post number fifteen.

Today I woke up really missing San Diego. Well, waking up implies that I slept, which I didn't really.

I left the bed this morning really missing San Diego. I suppose it's like most things that you don't have anymore. Everyone was sad when Richard Nixon died and I'm sure someone really missed Adolph Hitler when he wasn't around. It's funny how you always want what you don't have. I guess I mean me, I want what I don't have. Which isn't entirely true. I have a lot of what I want. I consider myself a mildly lucky individual, fortunate in most ways. I have a wonderful boyfriend who I love, sort of well-behaved pets, a job (it doesn't make me money, but I have it), wonderful parents, great friends, a bangin' body and a few dollars in my bank account (like five). So, I'm lucky-ish. I mean I could be fat or short.

So, I started to miss San Diego. It's not the worst place in the world to live. It's sunny, there's a beach, little bungalow houses and TONS of white people! I miss my job there, not what I did there as much as the place. I had the best co-workers/boss ever. It was super neat. The city was so laid back, so laid back everyone was practically asleep. So, I left for New York because it was what San Diego was not. Now I live in New York and want to live on a farm.

What is a mildly lucky individual like me suppose to do?

I can't help but wonder if there's some more I'm suppose to be doing.. I mean making sure people's bangs are an appropriate length is totally vital and detrimental to life as we know it, but there are other really important things like the fact that we rely totally on oil and we're basically out of it. I just watched 'Crude Awakening' last night. WAAAAAHHH, WAAAAAAAAHHH. God, I mean, give me another reason to HATE people. After watching it and listening to Jon and Nick talk about 'Animal, Vegetable, Miracle', I want to live on a big beautiful farm. And I want to read 'Animal, Vegetable, Miracle'. I know once I finish it I will move to the middle of nowhere and start planting things. I could farm. I mean as far as changing the world and helping the greater good, farming is something I could do. Curing cancer or something involving numbers, forget it. Plants? Why not? But then would I again long for what I didn't have? A city? Or would western civilization have then crumbled leaving cities as putrid collapsing ghettos? Would New York then be much different? Or would I want to move back to the west coast? By then they will all be out of water. Or maybe by then I'll want to open a restaurant. Or a strip club... people in various states of undress are always entertaining.


The point is I don't know.


And then I think, Jacob, no one really knows. The important thing is that we all look ultra sexy and all have really white teeth.. and lots of money.

Donatin'

So, I thought a lot about who I want to donate money to this month. I considered pushing it over Barack Obama's way, but Jon has been giving him money so I decided to give it to those less fortunate. This month I will donate my ten bucks to help the Humane Society help animals. I love animals. This makes me a better person.

If you would like to be a better person, like me, you can donate too. Donate to the "Jacob Has Too Much Credit Card Debt Foundation" by simply clicking the donate button located below. I accept most major credit cards.

Filth.

As I was returning from my hour trek to a decent grocery store, I was standing on the subway platform and began to examine my fellow travelers around me. All colors and shapes (and sizes). Then I looked down and began to examine the rat a few feet away from me. He had enormous testicles. It got me thinking, thinking not about testicles, but of exactly how dirty New York is.

Once the train roared in, blowing an intense wind, a wind of rat feces and decades of grime, it stopped and I crammed on board with the throngs of melting pot commuters. Across from me was a Mexican man with a ponytail scratching at his arm, picking a scab. As he picked, he flicked, flicking the largest portion of scab into this girl's hair who was asleep on the bench below him. Meanwhile, the large dirty man who was pressed against me, due to the rush hour overload, began to pick under his fingernails with a scrap of cardboard, which he then discarded onto my shoe. This got me thinking again, not of how I now wanted to burn my shoes when I got home, but of how a few weeks ago I went apartment hunting with a co-worker. She and I went to the upper east side, a nice neighborhood, to find her a place to live. I was along for the ride and was very curious to see exactly how small the places were. I was surprised, not at how small they were (they were small), but at how dirty they were. Molded bathrooms, soiled kitchens.. and these people were home, standing there, smiling at us, proud of their gardens of goo. All of the places, except for one, were pretty much disgusting. It's crazy to me. Wouldn't you want your home to be a safe haven from the squalid streets of New York? I know I like things clean, sometimes a little too clean, but this is ridiculous. I started thinking about the dirty city, dirty apartments, dirty people, there is no break from it. And to make things worse returning to Bushwick is like is a stab in the face. Garbage tornadoes down Whipple Street, used condoms strewn about like deflated party balloons, and baby diapers packed tightly with rancid shit waiting curbside. It doesn't end, this filth. Here we are in this modern society but in so many ways we are a bucket-of-trash-out-the-window away from living like medieval peasants. I know I'm over exaggerating.. a little. On my way to work the other day I counted eight piles of vomit, in all colors and consistency, on various parts of the sidewalk. Then, the other day the smell of hot garbage blew into my place of employment and everyone was like, "oh, god, gross... eh... it'll blow by". WHAT?! Ew, seriously. One night last month I awoke from slumber because the air coming through my air-conditioner vent smelled so foul it made my eye lids pop open. New York is fun and all, but why does it have to be so dirty? People hawking loogies all over the sidewalk. Ethan Hawke? (He lives around the corner from my work so I see him daily. He needs a bath and a dentist appointment, seriously.) I watched this guy one afternoon toss his McDonald's cup onto 9th Avenue and keep walking. I realized it's people's lack of concern for those around them. Everyone is too selfish and too lazy to make New York not a trash can. No one cares. They don't care if their scabs are falling in people's hair or their fingernail clippings are left on a bench for someone else to sweep off. They don't care that someone else has to step in their loogie. And these are the same people who are hired to clean New York. The people in charge of cleaning the subway cars, for example, they live in my neighborhood, I'm sure. I can only imagine what their homes look like. I've watched them "clean" the train cars. They don't care. Why would they? They get nothing and do nothing. Doesn't matter to them. Sorry, I could write a whole separate blog about how fucking lazy people are, but this one is about how dirty people are. Oh, and fat people.. that's another blog, too, but it's the worst when the fatty's are dirty or littering. Ooo, that really burns me up. Anyway, New York is dirty and when I get home I blow my nose and my boogers are the color of the subway tracks.

As I examined the rat with elephantitis of the testicles, I thought, am I much different? Not because, I too have elephantitis testicles, but because I'm covered in dirt, like him, crowded in by millions, just trying to make my way. And sometimes, I too eat garbage. Maybe that's why they call it the rat race? It does amaze me how New Yorker's compromise and/or accept this as a way of life. Not only that but they pay thousands of dollars a month to live in shoe boxes surrounded by crud. The funny thing is, most of these people are from smaller, cleaner towns or cities. Shouldn't they want a cleaner life? Or do they thrive in the filth, like a chinchilla having a dust bath, or Eddy rubbing her face in dead bird remains? Remember when David Copperfield made the Statue of Liberty disappear? Maybe he could make the dirt in New York disappear.. that's something I'd like to see. Is he still alive? Or maybe that David Blaine fellow? I hate him. Regardless, I'm going to go take a shower.

CUNT.

“So Sambo beat the bitch!”

This is how Republican Vice Presidential nominee Sarah Palin described Barack Obama’s win over Hillary Clinton to political colleagues in a restaurant a few days after Obama locked up the Democratic Party presidential nomination.

Oh, and this.

I really don't like to get involved in politics, it usually makes me really stressed out and it's totally not worth it (i.e. 2000, 2004). So, this time I'll keep my mouth shut and just vote for that nice Barack fellow. He seems like a nice man. But, I just wanted to say Sarah Palin is a beastly shit-bag with a heart of stone (and a brain the size of a pea) and I hope she burns in hell (if there was one, but there's not, Alise).

Oh, and nice bangs, cunt.