Sometimes working in certain homes at certain stages of development can really get my adrenaline going, to the point of nervousness and the feeling as if my entire body is buzzing like a jack hammer. The reason is simple, if I were to drop this $2000++ lighting fixture and break the ever so delicate glass pieces I am literally fucked. I would feel so ashamed that I would have to immediately impale myself in the temple with the nearest screwdriver. I sweat a lot during these situations with 20 lbs of weight held in my sweaty palms. My arms are fully extended and my whole body is contorted in awkward positions. Now imagine having to do a whole bunch of fancy shit with tools, splicing the wires and dealing with brackets and screws at the same time, without dropping one single thing or touching the ceilings and marking them up.

The worst thing that I’ve done in my career as an electrician is over crank a screw in a wall sconce lighting fixture that sits over a 6′x10′ mirror. The fucking glass snapped. Firstly, where the fuck do you order a 6′x10′ piece of mirror and how much does that even cost? That one of the worst days. Luckily it was over a year ago and like many things in life I learn from my mistakes.

Rich people. They have money and like their fancy things.

Wow, if I was rich I would buy a small and modest home in the somewhat safe neighborhood. Gut the place, have the whole thing redone looking plain on the outside and spend all the big bucks on the inside without being excessive, trendy, or buying crap that I don’t need.

The best cure for stress has to be a combination of adrenaline and being able to push oneself physically until failure. Whether its lifting iron, sprinting up a great big mountain, or smashing a perpetrator’s skull in with a Brooklyn Smasher. Exercise is great, it’s rewarding, and there should be nothing holding one back from such activities. But, how the hell am I to find a well deserving perpetrator? There is an overwhelming shortage of thieves that are willing to fall into my lap and let me beat the crap out of them.

Man, I really got to get myself one of these things. They’re made of polypropylene, not wood, so they’re pretty much indestructible. 34″ long and only 2 lbs heavy! I’m probably growing some sort of unhealthy paranoia, but I love weapons. They’re so fun to collect. Plus, if you’re anticipating a post apocalyptic era, you’re set!

I just answered this Featured Question; you can answer it too!

A terminal disease would give me the fallacious mindset of being invincible. For, one cannot kill what is already dead. Everything in this world would be ripe for the picking and there would be no laws that could hold one back. Whatever nuisances fall into the play of an average working man’s life have no effect upon Mr. Terminal Disease. A parking ticket? I’ll pay it off after I die! Since I wouldn’t have any heirs or a family to support, I could take out leases and loans without even thinking of paying them back. Unlimited money for the man with a very small limited amount of things to buy.

If you wanted to die for a cause or just head out and butcher criminals and murderers, you could do it. I believe, that a lot of rationalization becomes obsolete once one acknowledges that they’re at the end of their life. If you have no heirs, there is no reason to save, invest, or learn. Just do what you want to do and get out.

This question really reminds me of an old British comedy, where the main character is diagnosed with some sort of cancer and is set to die. So, he goes off and kills everyone who ever screwed him over in his shitty life. In the very end he finds out that he never had cancer in the first place and gets away with all those murders. It sounds morbid, but it was a good laugh. I don’t remember the title or actor.

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I feel so tense; I have this nervous feeling in my chest that feels like something has been winding up until it’s about to snap in half. My mind is all shaky and I simply cannot think clearly. The only way to get my self to relax is to wear myself out until the point of complete exhaustion. That way, my body gives up to rest and my mind is unchained from these shackles. I really wish I had a bunch of tires and a sledgehammer, either that or a forest full of wood and an axe. The most therapeutic exercise for myself at the moment has been compound movements, since they tire me out the most.

I really need to fill in the blanks. I can’t concentrate on anything. Maybe I just have a lot of stress. I feel like I’m under the gun everywhere I go.

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I saw Ghost Town yesterday at the pre-screening or whatever the heck them showings are called. Even though I saw it for free, I would have to say it’s worth paying for.

1.5 hours of sleep, no fatigue whatsoever, easily agitated, and pissed off without any real reason.

Time to gym!

I fucking hate studying… I need to force feed all this electrical knowledge into my brain so that I can challenge my electrical level 2 and not have to retake it. Yes, I failed last year. It has been my shame, the very root cause of my depression and shattered confidence.

I swear I have some sort of learning disability. Unless it’s something that really, really, really interests me, I’ll usually get bored of reading into something. Right now I’m considering taking some spike or something to help me concentrate. Heck, I’m sure there’s even more things I can take to help study, but I’m not that desperate, yet.

I can be smart, but at the same time I usually don’t like “thinking,” I prefer “knowing.”

Blah, blah, blerg… Sidetracked. Back to work!

The very first Takashi Miike movie I’ve seen in theatres. It was pretty entertaining. It’s a western/samurai movie and all in English!

TRAILER HERE

Yesterday, I was driving and saw a car sitting in the middle of the street. It was blocking my way!

When I was able to pass him, I noticed it was a Chinese man!

Hold yer horses! I’m not being quite racist, just yet.

He was like 100 years old! Quite possibly the oldest shriveled up prune of a man I’ve ever seen sitting in the drivers seat of an automobile!

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60 flights of stair sprints in the morning.
60 flights of stair sprints in the evening.
60 flights of stair sprints in the morning.
60 flights of stair sprints in the evening.
60 flights of stair sprints in the morning.
60 flights of stair sprints in the evening.
60 flights of stair sprints in the morning.
60 flights of stair sprints in the evening.
60 flights of stair sprints in the morning.
60 flights of stair sprints in the evening.
60 flights of stair sprints in the morning.
60 flights of stair sprints in the evening.

Screw you FireFox. Download HERE!

So yesterday, I got my haircut at Zeal Japanese hair salon and started off with having my hair washed by some lady. Sure, this time they didn’t turn on the massage chair for some reason. (Those freaking chairs are one of the reasons I go there!) But, I always love getting my hair washed, it’s so relaxing. Anyways, after that she hands me off to some guy. Surprise.

That was one of the most awkward experiences. For one, I’ve never had my hair cut by a man. It’s weird having to look at myself in the mirror getting my hair cut by a guy. I don’t want to stare at you in my peripheral vision for one hour! Secondly, why the hell are his hands so soft? I’m sure it comes with the job and he did do a good job cutting my hair, but I just prefer having it cut by a woman. She wouldn’t necessarily have to be pretty, I just personally prefer having my hair cut by a woman.