1. I’m about as physically attractive as an extra hobbit on a Lord of the Rings set.

2. I’m about as physically imposing as an Ewok. (Adorableness notwithstanding.)

3. The more I succeed at my job the more I realize that the technology field isn’t for me and I absolutely hate everything about the industry and the people it supports.

4. Jimmy Fucking Darmody is dead. For those of you who don’t know, he’s a fictional character. He’s fucking make believe. And that really upset me for some reason.

5. I’m never smart/attentive enough to know what’s going on in movies or TV shows until I watch them for a second, third or sometimes fourth time. I also can’t tell cast members apart if they have the same color hair.

6. When cool people like the bands I like it pisses me off because they get to know everything about the band and like it better than I do and I fucking hate it.

7. When douchebags like the bands I like I get depressed because I can’t listen to the band any more.

8. I used to enjoy video games until I came to the realization that I really suck at them.

9. I write long, needy, attention seeking notes like this because I secretly (see: desperately) hope to find people as miserable as myself only they’re always more miserable than I am because they have valid reasons and I usually don’t.

10. I don’t have a lot of valid reasons to be as miserable as I am.

11. I stopped playing drums because I realized I wasn’t doing it like other people did and they were better than I was.

12. I never played guitar for the same reason. And it was hard.

13. I haven’t touched a musical instrument in probably 9-10 years for those exact reasons actually.

14. I legitimately deal with stupid anxiety (social and general) on a daily basis but I stopped going to a doctor/shrink about it because I felt like I was being a clichéd asshole like everybody else and I figured they must think I’m pretending to have it so I can somehow win an imaginary game of some sort.

15. Catcher in the Rye was my favorite book of all time and that makes me a hipster faggot.

16. The truth behind whether I am actually related to the family I was raised into has been strongly debated and as of today’s date, remains inconclusive. Two of the three alleged parents have currently taken up permanent residence in graveyards and the other is half a country away (and we’re not on speaking terms.)

17. If I met Kurt Cobain in real life (whose music I’ve adored since my dumb brain could start processing music) I’d probably think he was a cocky, self-absorbed douchebag and I’d never want to hang around him.

18. I think if I met most of my favorite bands they wouldn’t think I was cool enough.

19. I used to say “ambleeance” instead of “ambulance” until I was 16 and was sitting in a room full of people who called me a “fucking moron”

20. I keep saving this every 5 items or so like I think the world would be out anything if it were lost.

21. I realize this is retarded and I’m still writing it.

22. I’m cheating at coming up with these now.

23. I sing/yell at the top of my lungs while driving but I am tone deaf and if the music were off I would sound like I had extra chromosomes and a syndrome of some sort. You know the Downs one.

24. I only enjoy talking to people who are at least mildly to moderately attractive. If they are incredibly ugly, I can’t take them seriously and if they’re way out of my league I feel like an insecure douchebag and I basically make an groveling asshole out of myself.

25. I think people are cunts when they don’t appreciate the same awful humor I do regarding such topics as rape, abuse, dead loved ones, grotesque and overtly offensive, poverty, dialect, obesity, the insecurities of myself and those around me, those less fortunate than me, those more fortunate than me, everybody else.. Everything else.

26. When it’s summer I miss the winter and when winter hits I want to fucking coma out until summer comes back.

27. I frequently burn bridges then wonder why I don’t keep a lot of long term friends.

28. I’ve done absolutely nothing with my life in the past ten years and because of this I feel like an absolute failure despite everything I have seemed to accomplish, I still have no life goal aside from falling in love with somebody who can put up with my shit and treating them well. So I basically picked a dream to achieve that involves things completely out of my control.

29. I rarely, if ever, give an “I love you too” to people who seem to genuinely mean it when they say it to me, be it friends or family. I don’t do it on purpose; I’m just not comfortable saying it for some stupid reason.

30. I don’t know how to receive a compliment and rarely have the confidence to give them properly so I always fuck it up by babbling too long at the end.

31. I often wonder why it seems people don’t genuinely like me for who I am and then I remember that I have absolutely no fucking clue who I really am.

32. I pirate things that only cost a dollar but when asked to donate to a site in which I pirate things from, I’m very generous and dole out about 10-20 bucks or so depending on what my cash flow looks like at the time.

33. If I bought all of the things I really enjoyed, I’d have no money left because I’m a sad lonely person who sits inside and needs entertainment as background noise to drown out my stupid thoughts.

34. I’m semi-good at a lot of things but always way less than people who are actually good at them.

35. I have maybe three articles of clothing I actually like and I can’t find stuff to wear any more. The only reason my style has changed since high school is because I’m lazy and I’m not allowed to look like an asshole any more.

36. I think I love driving but I always do 160 everywhere I go because I need to get where I’m going as fast as humanly possible even though I often have a severe panic attack boiling in my chest about the place I’m supposed to go and what I’m supposed to do when I get there.

37. I’m in a perpetual state of extreme self-loathing, then desperate attempts to pull myself out of a rut, then extreme over-confidence when things show even the slightest chance of going well and then right back to the pit of despair and introspective misery I was before because the situation fails to meet the absurdly high expectations I set in front of myself.

38. Instead of doing the proper thing and examining the aforementioned situations above and learning from the experience, I blame myself for being a shitty person and those around me for not appreciating me enough despite rarely appreciating myself.

39. I can’t find metal I like any more that doesn’t sound like somebody’s sucking the devil’s cock and gurgling his molten jism. It’s like they’re taking burping the ABCs to a new extreme.

40. I also can’t stand the high pitched screaming shit because it feels like somebody is forcibly fucking a cat while it claws at a chalkboard over a soundtrack to a mediocre band playing some generic riff in the background.

41. If I don’t shave for two days, I look the exact same as when I don’t shave for two weeks: a gay Mexican.

42. I used to think gay people had it the easiest because they didn’t have to deal with women until I hung out with gay guys and realized they are the most dramatic fucking people on the planet and are far, far worse than any female I’ve ever dated.

43. I adore space, science and physics but I’m not smart enough to understand any of it.

44. If this doesn’t get any like buttons I’m going to hate my life even more than I do now.

45. I often don’t go to places of employment (former or current) of exes or past/failed love interests because I start having a nervous meltdown/panic attack which I would absolutely equate to the same level of being chased by a lion or other large predatory animal that could end my life and eat me. This extends to the internet as well where I will avoid entire websites, sections of Facebook, food, routes, music, mutual friends, and virtually anything else that could possibly conjure up a memory that that person either has existed or continues to exist and at some point in their life come to the conclusion they want nothing to do with me.

46. I often day dream about being in a situation where I would have to be a hero and save someone (be it loved ones -and what a short list that is- or just people in general) but in all actuality, while I legitimately do think I would be stupid and ballsy enough to try to be hero guy, I also completely realize I would instantly get my ass handed to me via the butt of a gun or a bullet in my sloppy, snarly, crooked face and I would be nothing but a hindrance to those I was trying to help and only make the situation much worse for everyone involved.

47. Sometimes I feel like my luck is so shitty that it can’t actually be real and at any moment, people are going to pop out of bushes with cameras and I’m going to get text messages and phone calls where everyone goes “Oh lol, this has been the longest running TV show/documentary ever about how long one person can survive by having such absolutely piss poor luck. We’re all just J/K’n! (they would actually say Jay kay in my imagination).” And then we’d have some sort of like, speak to the camera moment where everybody high fives and stuff is awesome and I get to be happy forever.

As of January 21st, 2012, that hasn’t happened but I still have my fingers crossed.

48. I firmly believe all of the things I stated in this note are true.

49. This, and the previous one are cheap attempts to get to fifty.

50. I wanted to go out with a bang but I completely forgot a bunch of the things I wanted to say and now I can’t do any more because I’d have an awkward number and it wouldn’t be right even though nobody is going to read this anyway and for some reason that bothers me but it would probably bother me more if people read this which, also makes no sense because I posted it to begin with. This ends just like life. Now I’m going to get philosophical and if you made it this far (you’re retarded and almost as pathetic as me for writing it) you are just going to have to deal with it.

There is no stupid end. There’s no big finale. We just fucking, wither away and become worm food unless you win the unlucky lottery and burn or evaporate to death or get eaten by something but you’ll eventually become poop which will somehow make its way to the ground so once again fuck off and everything goes on without you and you live on through the memories of others but not the way you wish you would, just the way they remember you as. So if they remember you as a stupid asshole who talked a lot and never really got to the point of anything, that’s your legacy. You’re -That- guy. Or girl.

And eventually all the people who remember you also die and then somebody has to remember them and it’s just an endless cycle of people trying to remember one another and it only lasts for so long until the sun blows up which, we’ll never fucking see by the way, as a collective humanity, because a combination of global catastrophes will have killed us long before that giant burning ball of gas exhales it’s last fuckton of radiated solar hellfury. And then no one’s going to fucking remember us. So at least be partially thankful we’re not the final breed of people because while it would be cool to know what the story is 3000+ years from now or so is, they’re just going to die and that’s it and it’s probably going to fucking suck because when a lot of people die at once it’s never a good thing. It never happens in a nice way. It’s always a shitlot of suffering and agony on a massive scale and nobody ever looks back on it and goes “yeah shit, those were the days. Remember plague and suffering?”

And I don’t remember what my point was. Because I lost it in the innate fear that someday, I too will become nothing and while I’m totally fine with that, it aggravates me that I’m going to be remembered by a bunch of fuckwads who didn’t really like me a whole lot and they’ll probably say shitty things about me like “he liked to eat fecal matter” or “he quite possibly had the worst breath you’d ever smell.” And that’s if they even talk about me. And if I ever became famous, people would write fan fiction about me getting fucked in the ass by space aliens or something because nobody on the internet who writes fan fiction is ever a stable human being themselves.

So fuck me, but fuck you too.