I want to live my next life backwards

I don't really like Woody Allen. I think he's a wimp. A snivelling, complaining wimp of a man. But I think he might, for once, actually be onto something here:

"In my next life I want to live my life backwards. You start out dead and get that out of the way. Then you wake up in an old people's home feeling better everyday.

You get kicked out for being too healthy, go collect your pension, andthen when you start work, you get a gold watch and a party on your first day.

You work for 40 years until you're young enough to enjoy your retirement. You party, drink alcohol, and are generally promiscuous, then you are ready for high school.

You then go to primary school, you become a kid, you play. You have no responsibilities; you become a baby until you are born.

And then you spend your last 9 months floating in luxurious spa-like conditions with central heating and room service on tap, larger quarters every day and then Voila!

You finish off as an orgasm! I rest my case."

The 'finance monster' is back

He sleeps under your bed (or as in the case of this pic, in your closet - perhaps he is a gay monster) and comes out when you least expect him to.

He recently resurfaced in the form of a letter from my electricity provider. And he had a not-so-nice message about how I wasn't keeping my account up to date.

(insert obligatory monster noise here)

This finance monster has stated that he will be adding $150 to my electric bill next month to top up my initial deposit. Odd, considering that I paid a $400 deposit back in January this year and I only owe about $170 on my electricity bill.

Do you think that will shut the little finance monster up? Hell no! And no matter how hard you try to hide from him, swat him with a rolled up newspaper, or even try coax him into having a chat, he remains fierce and ugly and mean.

I don't like monsters under my bed. Or in my closet. Or behind the door. In fact, other than my two cats, I don't really like anything else with a heart beat in my apartment. Especially when I'm not there. That's just creepy.

Someone lives (lived) here?

So I've been on the apartment hunt because I want to move. And when you look online, you find some very strange things.

One of these strange things was a posting on a site by a landlord in Houston, Texas who took these pics of an apartment where the tenant had not paid rent in over a month. So they went upstairs to leave a reminder note and this is what they found:

Evil thoughts

I think I need to see a professional.

Recently, I've been having bad thoughts. Not evil, dangerous, go-on-a-rampage kind of thoughts, just negative thoughts. I've been angry and and short-tempered. And it's not because of work. I love my work. I love the people. I love this city. So what is it that is making me be so angry?

Honestly, I don't care, but it must go away now. So I started taking my little white happy tablets.

Along with a sense of anxiety, they also have the following wonderful side effects: Drowsiness, diarrhea, loss of libido. I have two of these. Aren't I lucky? But soon, my days shall improve and hopefully the angry thoughts will be vanquished and I shall be a nice person that people want to sit next to at the bar again.

The Secret to a Long Life

A guy taking a walk noticed an old lady sitting on her front step, so he walked up to her and said, "I couldn't help noticing how happy you look! What is your secret?"

She looked up at him and said, 'I smoke ten cigars a day. Before I go to bed, I smoke a nice big joint. Apart from that, I drink a whole bottle of Jack Daniels every week, and eat only junk food. On weekends, I pop pills, get laid, and do absolutely no exercise at all.'

'That is absolutely amazing," replied the young man. "How old are you?'

"Twenty-four," she replied.

Remember, things aren't always what they seem. Be happy with what you have and what you do. And there endeth the lesson for the day.