Working is pretty much the worst thing about living. As my incredibly jaded father often points out, 'Work is the only thing so awful that they have to pay you to do it', and this is coming from a guy that will work kids a third of his age under the fucking table with a reconstructed leg. I constantly vacillate between the Merle Haggard 'Working Man's Blues' take on work, where there is pride in grinding for most of your life, even if it is essentially miserable, and Aesop Rock's '9-5er's Anthem' take on work, where work is meaningless if it isn't furthering your own Campbellian Bliss. I am a child of disenchanted Rust Belt workers at my core. Most jobs are there to burn through fresh meat and spit you out when you have become obsolescent, but at the same time, I would much rather be a worker than a economic non-combatant.
There is so much to be said for someone that does something, no matter the parameters. No matter how chewed up and disregarded you feel at the end of the day, you still have a sense of accomplishment most of the time. The one good thing about low-level bitch work is that it is tangible. You do X for Y amount of hours and you will get Z amount of money. Now, those variables can fluctuate in fuckawfulness, but that premise remains the same. Until your bosses change them, which has happened at 60% of the jobs I have had. But, again, it's a perspective thing. I could be a child laborer in China making Air Jordans for 20 cents a day. Usually, someone's got it worse than you, and that's certainly true with me. But that trip down Logic Lane usually doesn't help when your on your 17th cigarette of the day and you friend texts you to come to his First and Only Summer Barbeque Extravaganza, where there'll be a free concert with Agalloch and Janelle Monae, and Lexi Belle stopped by to toss out free blowjays, and every keg is filled with Old Rasputin and Curious Traveler. But even then you'll know that having a strong work ethic is worth all the boozy oral sex set to the tune of 'Tightrope' in the world (no it isn't).
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I did manage to dog sit during my time away. I got roped into it as it was my only day off that week, and I'm too good of a person to say no. My brother and his wife are looking for new houses out of town, so I had to watch their dogs Chester and Oscar, as well as my parent's dogs Bella and Brutus. Four dogs. That's usually five dogs too many for me, but I rose to the challenge. First off, a breakdown of these dogs:
Brutus: A big, excitable Labrador of some type I think. Pretty dumb, even for a dog. Found outside our house one day, and was probably beaten pretty viciously by whoever owned him before us.
Bella: A purse dog. Yorkshire/Chihuahua. Very scruffy and needy.
Chester: An oddly proportioned dog that looks like a mix between the first two. He barks. A lot.
Oscar: Some manner of spaniel. Very sweet dog. Had to be forcibly removed from his previous owner's home. There were no specifics, but I can only imagine the circumstances being utterly terrifying. Because of this, he cowers at the sight of almost anyone/thing.
So, I figured I could do what I normally do when forced into this situation: close the door to my room and sleep for 6 hours until the problem took care of itself. But this time, I decided to channel my inner Cesar Milan and make this my day project, and let me tell you something: I AM THE KING OF DOG SITTING. I let them play in the snow, they all got lunchmeat treats, and EVERYONE GOT AS MANY EAR SCRATCHIES AS THEY WANTED. Even Oscar, who up until that day was terrified of me, was happy. I guess what I'm saying is that if you need dog sitting work, I am available.
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The only thing I have taken in over the past three weeks (besides podcasts and music, but I'll get to that later) is Twitter, and goddamn do I love Weird Twitter. Weird Twitter is a collective of people on Twitter that essentially tell jokes in a disjointed fashion, but it's too diverse and strange to sum it up like that. So, in lieu of me talking at length about all the wonderfully odd and beautiful facets of this community, I'm just going to suggest to you some absolutely necessary follows that you should get the fuck up on immediately. And now, a list:
@utilitylimb (Bandit)
@realtraphorse (Trashfuck Squadron)
@bakkooonn (Bakoon)
@davedittell (Dave Dittell)
@dogboner (Michael Hale)
@famoushorse (Horse Ugal. The Man)
@crunkdumpster (Broga Pants)
@djbitchtits (Queso)
@dads_secret (Your Dad)
@briangaar (Brian Gaar)
@dubstep4dads (Dubstep4Dads)
@dril (Wint)
... and my personal favorite...
@Tormny_Pickeals (Tormniably Piackeels)
I'm omitting about 100 or so great ones, but this is a primer of sorts. Check these dudes out (I'm pretty sure they're all dudes).
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PODCAST NEWS! Tom Scharpling was on an episode of 'Analyze Phish', the podcast where Harris Wittels tries to convince someone to like Phish. You need to hear it. Now.
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MUSIC NEWS! Sooooooooooooo much music to discuss. Let's tackle this super rapid-fire style. Tony Touch's 'Return of the 50 MCs' is like a primer for anyone looking to get into hip-hop. As the name suggests, Fifty of the greatest MCs of all-time come together to make one of the best albums of the year. Wormed is a massively aggressive, highly technical metal album that is just punishing from beginning to end. My friend Mike referred to it as 'Geth Metal' after the sentient robots from 'Mass Effect', and I tend to agree with his assessment. I got caught totally off-guard by the awesome self-titled album by the band Melt Yourself Down. Very high energy African jazz-funk type stuff that's worth checking out. The new self-titled Violetshaped is a great gothic electronic album that should be getting a bit more shine than it's been getting. Huerco S. is a really solid album of melancholy electronics in the same vein as Burial. Finally, you already should know how great the new Flaming Lips, Janelle Monae, and YC the Cynic albums are, but if not, get on it.
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