Wednesday, September 08, 2010

Holy Crap!

I forgot I had this thing. Man it's been a long time. I guess I don't have as much to say now and days. Life has beaten the opinions out of me. I'll see if I can come up with new stuff.

Monday, July 28, 2008

I'm not a Designer. I just play one on TV.

I just had an epiphany.  Okay, that’s not true.  I don’t even know what that means.  For all I know, it could be a style of jewelry.

But in my dumb dumb vocabulary translation, I’ve come to realize something.  I suck.

Now before all of you go and agree with me before I even finish...

Scenario 1: “Yeah, Fob you do suck.  You are the most unreliable friend I have...”

Scenario 2: “True.  You’re such a dirty ho.  I don’t know how any girl can trust you...”

Scenario 3: “You do.  I’ve never seen anyone get a C- on a HIV test...”

Scenario 4: “Oh!  Yeah!  Keep sucking my...”

Let me speak!  Or write!  Whatever!!!  You see I’ve been a working professional for eight years now as a graphic designer.  Straight out of college I started working.  Sure, at first, I was pretty green.  Didn’t know how to turn on my computer or even know which person to sleep with to move up the corporate ladder.

But in the past couple of years I learned a few skills, gained a lot of confidence, put out more than my ass can handle, and have become delusional in my work abilities.  Because the truth is I suck.  

Being the big fish in a small pond has distorted reality around me.  Here I was thinking I was good when the truth is I’m a second rate hack.  It’s hit me like a ton of big pixellated, motion blurred, drop shadowed bricks.

So what do I do?  School?  Freelance?  See if my corner is still available on Sunset and Highland?  It’s hard as Hades to find another job right now.  And I’m not exactly the most marketable person.  So what should I do to advance myself aside from going back to being a street walker?

Did someone say... Design Hooker?!?!

Fob: “5 dolla’ make ya haller!  For 50 bucks I offer strategic planning in branding,

print, web design, and electronic media.”

I’m screwed...  Literally!

Tuesday, July 15, 2008

Where's my Olsen Twin?

I’m sweaty.  Tired.  And sore.  And better yet, I’m all of these at work.  The good news, it won’t affect my promotion.  The bad news, I’m more likely to get fired or demoted anyway.  I’m sure they’d move me into a fluffer or whipping boy position if they had one.  So my whole thing with being offensive aromatically is my way of getting back at them.  Not that anyone cares.  So sad...

Still, today I feel somewhat accomplished.  I arrived at work environmentally friendly.  Today was the first day I rode my bike into work.  That’s right ladies and gentlemen.  Tour de South Bay started this morning as I was awake much earlier cruising along with the ocean breeze in my face, cycling my way to work.  

Today I am a do-gooder of nature.  Damn you oil companies!  Damn you terrorists!  Damn you cool sail looking hotel in Dubai!!! For I will not contribute to your extravagant lifestyle.  Nevermind, that I drive an SUV and rev my engine wasting fuel and adding pollution just because I like the way it sounds.  I am now a professional cyclist!  Lance Armstrong and I are now one of a kind.

So I’m ready for my benefits.  I’m not quite sure on this but I heard one of the perks of not polluting the environment was getting your very own Olsen twin. 

I don’t know which one he has and which one is available but if I ge to pick, I’ll take the one that’s anorexic.  It’ll save me the trouble of making her feel bad about getting fat.

Me:  “Hey.. Mary-Kate Ashley Christina Jessica Ronnie Bobby Ricky Mike.  You look different.  Is that only three ribs I can count on you?  Hmm... Yesterday I was able to count four ribs.”

Olsen Twin:  “Really?!?! Excuse me.  I have to use the restroom...”

Thursday, June 19, 2008

I knew it!!!;_ylc=X3oDMTVlbzIxbWZoBF9HA3BlcnNvbmFscwRfUwMyNzE2MTQ5BF9zAzIwMjMyNjkyNjUEawNTaGUgU2F5cyB2cy4gSGUgU2F5czogV2hhdCYjMzk7cyBIZWlnaHQgR290IHRvIERvIFdpdGggTG92ZQRzZWMDZnBfdG9kYXkEc2xrA3NoZS1zYXlzLXZzLWhlLXNheXMtd2hhdHMtaGVpZ2h0LWdvdC10by1kby13aXRoLWxvdmUEenoDYQ--

Lies I tell you.  I knew you Amazon women didn't like us Hobbits.  I'm tempted to punch a tall chick in the knee...

Bringing this blog back and seeing this article, it reminded me of when I wrote about being a midget in a sea of giants.  It's become more so with where I live.  Either that or I've gotten shorter.  But I think it has more to do with living closer to the ocean.  The good weather does wonders with health.  I can only imagine how tall I'd be if I grew up with it.

Maybe I'd be tall enough to go on that ride at Magic Mountain.  Or perhaps I still wouldn't have to drive my car while sitting in a baby seat.  Man!  What's a short brother got to do to get some love around here!!!

Thursday, June 05, 2008

I'm back...

Per request, this is my attempt to write something of interest for those of you curious about my daily life.  Are things as exciting as it was a few years ago?  Definitely not.  Am I drinking like a fat guy at a buffet?  Certainly not.  Are my poops as painful as before?  Well, not everything changes...

Old friend:  "Hey Fob, how you been man?  It's been a while."

Fob:  "Speak louder!  I don't have my hearing aid.  Who is this? Jehovah's Witness?"

Old friend:  "No!  It's 'so-and-so'.  What's new?"

Fob:  "Oh, hey there.  Well if you must know.  My back hurts, I'm fat now, I'm high on Viagra, and I pooped my pants."

Old friend:  "Okay... Well take care.  Bye."

So I'm back.  Life's quite different now.  My situation isn't where it was two or three ago but that's not really the most notable difference.  I'd say it's more the people around me.  They've changed.  They've matured! 

I know!  What's up with that crap?  Whatever happened to getting drunk, running around in circles, and then falling over and breaking something?  Ah... the good ol' days.  Now it's like: "I got to take care of the kids." "My mortgage is killing me."  "What do you mean there's a tumor on my left testicle?"

Adulthood.  Work and family take precedence over booze and hookers.  Well, at least that's what my responsible friends tell me.  I think it's not right to leave hookers hanging like that, but that's another story.  The days of partying are coming to a close.

Now, the people close to me are married, having kids, making house payments.  It just puts things into perspective.  Which is where my thoughts are today...

I guess I can get married now because gay people won the vote.  And those kids who were calling me daddy.  I wonder how long they waited for me at the airport.  And why does a home invasion sound so reasonable now and days.  Beats making payments!

Ah... being grown up is swell...

Monday, January 08, 2007

Office Restroom Etiquette

Come on! You think other people don't notice? How ignorant do you have to be to think, "Well no one is directly looking at me so I'm going to skip that step."

Or those strange noises coming from within your stall. Yes, we all notice that. And like the bunch of little school girls that we are, we gossip about it.

Fob: "Have you ever heard $@#% making these noises?"
Coworker: "Yeah! What the hell is that? I've had to use the toilet after him and it seemed like he was trying to put out a fire."

These are just some of the things one would notice when not given enough work. You tend to wander and be focused on things that do not really pertain to your job.

But because of my unique diet of eating and drinking certain things that make me drop a higher amount of deuces and urinate like my nuts are going explode, I tend to be in the restroom often. And by being in there frequently, I often become aware of the tendencies certain coworkers have.

For instance, there is a surprising large number of coworkers that I refuse to shake hands with. Why? Well I know where that hands have been and when they should have been washed.

Another thing I find to be dirty, I blame their mothers. But we don't need any surprise gifts left in the toilet after you use it. I don't jump up in glee when I find a toilet with a log in it, nor when it is pre-made lemonade color. I'm just not that kind of guy who appreciates these kinds of presents.

Although these behaviors I don't condone, I do understand. The weirdest thing which to this day still puzzles me is the slapping noises a certain coworker makes when using the stalls. I mean, that's just not normal. Either he's spanking it or furiously fighting to tap that last drop out of his tool. But whatever it is, I know it's not good for his health or his career. Because I know most people refuse physical contact with him.

So beware your actions in the head. If you forget to wash or flush, or you just insist on playing with yourself while on the clock. Big brother is watching.... Well, not watching. I'm not spying on anyone or anything like that. Really... I'm not.

Tuesday, January 02, 2007

Happy my liver didn't explode year

I don't know if this is more of a celebration of the coming year or surviving the last. But I treat New Years Eve as more of the ending of a year than the beginning of a new one.

Sure, compared to some of my friends whose blood consists of Patron, Old English, Bud Light, and the charcoal filtered vodka from Albertsons, it may seem like I don't drink that much to worry about liver and kidney issues at this age. But to your average human being, or at least my coworkers who pretty much don't enjoy passing out in the gutter, they tend to think I drink more than I should.

It's probably because I come in to work claiming about back pains after drinking which supposedly are not back pains but kidney or liver pains. It seems those organs are struggling to filter out all the crap I consume.

So this New Years Eve I feel especially proud of myself. My liver didn't explode! I still have both my kidneys! Yea! And I still had a good time...

Which is why for the new year I think I do need to make a resolution. And not like those "resolutionists" who show up at my gym in the coming month who hog up all the spots and then give up after a few weeks. I think for the sake of my health I need to drink less.

Aside from that, I need to try harder to be more of what I want to be, and try harder at not becoming what I used to be. Thinking back on the choices I've made, when I was the tool, the abused, the bitch, I don't want to let myself resort back to the person I was. Nor am I okay with where I am at now. I have to better myself.

My only advice, "Work harder Fobby! Be smarter! Be more creative! Sit on their faces..."