Debbie Downer

Some people are naturally "peppy." They exude happiness. They are bubbly, "effervescent" - full of life.

I am not one of these people.

I envy them. I really do. I am jealous like I am jealous of retarded people. Everyone feels sorry for a retarded person except the retarded person. They are loving life. They have no idea. I have met a lot of retarded people over the years and I have NEVER seen a depressed retarded person. A matter of fact, I suspect half of these bubbly, effervescent people running around are mildly retarded.

Look, I am not a miserable person, I am not even an unhappy person, but I do find it hard to relax and enjoy myself. I can't remember the last time I had a moment of self realization and said, "Wow, I am having fun RIGHT NOW." If anything I am one big "flatline" and that worries me because that is how serial killers describe themselves. Then again, I don't think I would even enjoy being a serial killer. Too much work.

I over think everything. I cannot help it. I approach everything from a cynical place.

Which brings me to porn.

I am not a porn guy. You know why? Because the entire time I am seeing these women I am thinking:

- What horrible thing happened in their life to bring them to this point.
- Their parents must be so proud.
- Somewhere there is a dad whose buddy just walked up to him and said, "Hey Joe, I just saw a video of your daughter sucking off twenty guys."

Same thing with strippers. They gross me out. They all smell the same - either too much perfume or too much baby powder or something. I imagine myself in their head, their distaste for men. I always think of what must be going through their head:

- 3 more hours of cozying up to scummy, scumbag men and then I can get out of here.
- Like this guy could ever get me in real life.
- How the hell did I end up here?


If only I was a retarded stripper life would be perfect.