Off the bat, I just want to apologise because I planned on keeping the blog up to date more frequently by doing a post on Monday but I got distracted by Lego and not eating.
Mind you this was a promise made to me and nobody else so in reality you have no idea that I’ve flaked on you so I guess I’m apologising to myself.
S’all good mate.
Onward and upward as they say in the rock climbing shoe sector of retail.
Now the title of this post may seem like I’m about to have another rant regarding incorrect and occasionally incoherent use of English, or maybe just have a really vicious stab at time travel and it’s mind-fucking annoyance as a story vehicle (I don’t have the time for that but there’s probably a me living in parallel dimension to me that does) or it may just seem like I’m about to get super heavy from an existential stand point.
Well you’re all wrong and I’m deducting points from your score for sloppy guess-man ship.
I’m here to share with you my hatred for a singular individual and call some of you stupid all at the same time. Buckle in and strap up.
I hate past Jacob.
And if you use the excuse of leaving shit for your future self to deal with you’re as much of a dinosauric fucktard as I am.
The statement that ‘I’ll leave that for future Pimpstick McJanglypants to deal with’ is almost as dumb as the old ‘Life is too short’ drivel that gets thrown around willy nilly. In part because there is nothing you will ever experience longer than your own lifetime, and Pimpstick McJanglypants is a dumb as shit name so anything that person says is immediately relegated down the ladder several dozen IQ points.
Credit to Sir Billy Connolly for opening my eyes to the ‘Life’s too short’ shtick.
The reason it’s so stupid is plain and simple. Take your time reading the next line over and over because it may be harder to follow than the time travel system endorsed by ‘The Terminator’ series.
Future you, does not exist.
They never have, they never will. They are merely a fictitious scapegoat made reality by the incessant whisperings of the ghost of Past you into the ear of Present you for one simple reason.
Past you is a cunt and lives (lived?) to screw Present you over.
Dunno why. Think of them as your mustachioed Bizzaro self hell bent on extinguishing your life through a system of road blocks like extra chores, hangovers and general lacks of sleep. And why not, I mean they’ve already lived the life! Why the fuck do they care if you die?!
The only two constants of self (in this universe at least) is a present version of yourself with your head in your palms trying to figure out how you’re going to make it till your kids bed time which is 7 hours away, and the cackling maniacal ghost of your past self stroking their ghost boner over how funny it was making you think it was a good idea to get up at 4am with nothing in your gut but water, coffee and some beef stock over the last 31 hours, and then go to the fucking gym of all places because today would be the day that your toddler FINALLY started taking day naps again and you could get some sleep when she went down at 11.
Present Jacob you gullible fucking idiot.
It’s not just shit like that either, this cunt is constantly leaving me with an empty fuel tank of a morning, eating all my food and not cooking more for the next day at work, leaving a pile of dishes of an afternoon just so I have to do them the next morning. It’s like living with a room mate from hell from some cheesy American sitcom but instead, its just me being a prick to me!
And the biggest joke of all, is you would think that after years of tripping myself up with my own idiocy, you’d think that I would have learnt and stopped screwing myself over time and time again.
But here’s the kicker, the person that learns that lesson?
THEY LIVE IN THE FUCKING PAST!
And they don’t give a shit because this is what they live(d?) for!
See we all think we’re being hilarious and quoting a whiskey swilling suited ladies man from an inexplicably popular American comedy series but in reality, we’re doing daily disservices to ourselves on an earth shattering scale.
Ok maybe not earth shattering, more of a slight tectonic shift.
Maybe it’s just a tremor.
Maybe I’m being a punk bitch about it.
Fuck it, by the time you read this it would have been Past Jacob that wrote it, take it up with him. I’m sure he’s around here somewhere laughing like the bastard he is.