Life is tough. I have said this repeatedly, time and time again. And I’m coming from a place of extreme opportunity. I have always been lucky.
I was born into a life of leisure. My parents were loving and successful. I grew up on the sunny side of the Pacific Palisades. Yes, my own behavior led me onto the streets at an early age. But even then it was the streets of Brentwood, which really isn’t too tough. I lived in the basement of a famous brain surgeon’s home for a while. Still, not too tough. Brentwood is certainly not the lower Eastside of anything. It’s the upper Westside of everything.
So, now that I’ve laid it out that I have had everything at my fingertips and threw it all away because of my idiocy, I come back to the same realization that life is tough. And I don’t trust people who smile all the time. It pisses me off, actually.
Perhaps because these smiling buffoons have actually figured it out, and have learned the great blessings of life. Perhaps, because they’ve discovered the joy of happiness and are trying to share it with rest of us. Let me clue you in, the great secret to a happy life is keep it to yourself.
There is no need to spread joy to the rest of us miserable son’s-of-bitches, pardon my French, because we are happy in our misery.
As you probably can tell, I don’t get invited to a lot to parties or small dinner affairs because I don’t smile a lot. I don’t tend to look on the bright side of things. I tend to wallow in the mud of humanity and weep for the soul of our culture. Not to put too fine a point on it, I don’t look at the glass as half full, I don’t look at the glass as half empty. I don’t see a glass at all; just empty space swirling around a continual repetition of disappointment.
How ’bout that for a pick-me-up? You can always count on me to put a smile on your face with my eternal optimism.
Well, that’s about it for now. Remember to turn that frown upside down and put on a happy face! Talk soon.
