Be an adult, man

I can’t take it anymore. I want out. No more of this conventional life. No more going to work and paying bills and flicking my cell phone on and off, even though nothing’s happening, no calls, tons of emails, way too many emails actually, but all junk email, TV shows that I don’t watch anymore sending me an update about last night’s episode, and tonight’s episode, and tomorrow’s, shoe manufacturers letting me know every single day about new shoes on sale, even though I only buy like one pair of shoes a year, even though when I bought them online, and it showed me a little check box, it was already checked, and it said, “Please! Keep me informed about daily deals and specials! Yes!” I made sure it was definitely unchecked, but despite my unchecking, the emails started trickling in, those crafty little algorithms refusing to take no for an answer, maybe we’ll just send him an email a day anyway, maybe he’ll buy more shoes, come on man, how about just buying one shoe? Of course I won’t buy any more shoes, but I’ll rarely go through the process of unsubscribing to those emails, you always have to open the email to find the unsubscribe button, also, it’s never a simple unsubscribing, it’s always, you will now be redirected to our web site where, amongst other nonsense, you’ll be able to hunt and dig for option to opt out of these emails, and even on that unsubscribe page, there’s still an option to stay subscribed, and of course the default, “No! I don’t know how I wound up on this page! Please, keep me updated on daily deals and specials! Yes!” is checked, another little trick.

No way, I’m totally over it, tired of getting that tiny dopamine kick every time I’m just sitting here trying to write, “ding!” email, one time out of every two hundred emails it’ll be something worth reading, but most likely it’s one of five hundred political action groups that somehow got their hands on my contact info, all of them peddling the same progressive agenda, each one of them asking for twenty five dollars, thirty five dollars, come on, just click here and make it an automatically reoccurring donation, make a difference, man, come on, man, fight the system, bro, you won’t even have to think about it. It’s like, we’ll take your money, you’ll get used to living with slightly less money, you won’t even notice it, and then we’ll start asking you for more, and then Obama’s going to be done with his second term and somebody’s going to take the reigns of that behemoth online donation machine. Who’s going to be asking for fifteen dollars every day two years from now, Biden? Clinton? Somebody else? Come on, just ten dollars. Thanks for the ten dollars. Hey, I have something else to ask you. Can I have ten more dollars? I know you just gave me ten, but, can you make it twenty? Every time you give it’s just an escalating cycle, asking for more and more almost immediately after.

Thanks, but no thanks. The only online shopping I’m going to be doing from now on is for hobo bindles. To be honest, I don’t think I’ve ever seen a hobo bindle in real life. What’s the point? Why not a backpack? I guess if you’re really out on your ass, you might not have a backpack readily available, maybe just a long stick, an oversized neckerchief. What do you put inside? Is it really easier to carry everything if it’s balancing on your shoulder at the end of that long stick? Maybe if I were to show up on the streets, on the back of some slow moving cross-country freight train with all of my stuff warm and dry in a backpack, whatever, in some messenger bag, maybe I’d be seen as a phony by the larger hobo community, because there’s always a natural amount of sympathy for any hobo, however reluctant we are to give it, nobody likes to see anybody out there, in the cold, hungry, dirty, down on their luck. But if that lifestyle is a choice? Then sorry pal, no soup for you, backpack or bindle, pick one, because nobody’s inclined to give you any sympathy at all. Why don’t you get back to work? How about charging up that cell phone and checking those emails? Paying for that cell phone bill on that cell phone bill-paying app? Because what’s wrong with you man? What’s your deal? You know how many people would kill to sit here and have people sell them stuff on a smart phone? Do you realize what an entitled whiny little brat you sound like? Get yourself together man, be a man, man, be an adult, dude.

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