Tag Archives: lazy

I’m scared of ghosts that are indifferent to my existence

Sometimes I’ll want a good scare, and so I’ll try to find some cool ghost stories to read on the Internet. But even the good ones aren’t that scary. The ghosts are always trying way too hard. At first you barely notice that they’re there, but then slowly they start moving stuff around the apartment, running right behind you when you’re in the bathroom brushing your teeth, spelling out really creepy sentences on the fridge out of the magnetic word poetry set that you bought at Urban Outfitters. And then after the fun and games are over, they reveal themselves, it turns out to be a really evil ghost, and that’s it.

image credit: www.i-am-bored.com

image credit: www.i-am-bored.com

The scariest parts of ghost stories are the parts where the ghost isn’t even doing anything yet. The main character moves into a spooky new house, and nothing out of the ordinary has happened at all. But I’m reading a ghost story, and so I know that something scary is about to go down eventually, and so I’m shaking, totally freaked out. And then as soon as that candle knocks itself off the fireplace, I’m like, OK, there it is, that’s the ghost, and everything gets progressively less scary.

So I’m not into scary ghosts, not in fiction, certainly not in real life. And I’m not too fond of happy ghosts either. As a little kid, I always thought that Casper the Friendly Ghost was one of the dumbest shows on TV. It wasn’t scary, and it wasn’t funny. It was just weird, and kind of sad. I remember thinking to myself as a little kid, so wait, if Casper’s a ghost, then he’s dead, right? So why is he dead? Isn’t he just a little kid? Mom, if I die right now, am I going to have to come back as some bald floating cartoon character without any legs?

Scary ghosts, no. Happy ghosts, also no. What really gets me are the ghosts that are totally indifferent to my existence. And since by their nature they’d want nothing to do with me, I can never rule out the possibility that my house might be super haunted right now, like totally overflowing with ghosts that don’t care about me. I just can’t see them, because they don’t find my presence worth haunting. And so they’re sitting around enjoying my couch or whatever it is that ghosts do, and then they hear me coming and, poof, they’re gone.

What the hell, ghosts? Couldn’t you at least do me a solid? If I were a ghost, resigned to take up space in my house for some undetermined amount of time, sure, I can see how I’d maybe feel a little apathy toward whoever takes residence here next. Maybe I wouldn’t want to give them the time of day. If I had the ability to poof myself out of any situation, that’s probably what I’d wind up doing most, if not all of the time.

But do me a favor, just come and say hi. That would be huge for me. I’d finally find out once and for all that an afterlife does exist, that death isn’t the end. Sure, maybe the idea of floating around, disappearing, still trying to avoid weird social interactions with people that I’m not close with, maybe that’s not the idea of heaven that I was expecting. But it’s better than nothing.

Come on, if I were a ghost, I’d leave you alone, but I’d at least give you a little heads up. “Hey,” I’d manifest myself right in between you and the TV. “Look, I’m not going to scare you or anything, and this doesn’t have to be a thing where I’m all up in your business, but I just wanted to let you know that I’m here, and that I’ll be out of your way. When I was alive, I put a lot of thought into this, and I just feel like, at some level anyway, you’d probably want to know.”

Science fair flashbacks
























Happy Labor Day

Happy Labor Day everyone, if that’s what you’re into. Personally, I feel like Americans are always looking for an excuse to take another day off, like the weekend isn’t enough time to sit around not being productive. Not me, I’ll be working extra today, double, or even triple if I can hustle fast enough. Because that’s what makes America great, working, getting back to work, taking a five minute break instead of a ten minute break, and then only using three of those minutes.

My grandfather always used to say, “Work smarter, not harder.” Out of respect for my elders, I’d hold my tongue. But now that he’s dead, I don’t feel bad holding back. That’s a lazy man’s motto. My motto is, “Work smarter and harder,” emphasis on the work. Just keep going, don’t stop moving, never stop working. There’ll be plenty of time to not be working harder when we’re dead.

And while I’m on the subject of dead people, talk about lazy. They’re laying around doing absolutely nothing, no work at all, zero productivity, and yet we have to get them nice suits, fancy coffins, we’re supposed to take time out of our busy days to reflect upon all the good times, visiting their graves every once in a while. What a bunch of nonsense. Look, I’m sorry that you’re dead and that you’re no longer of use to the workforce, but do you think it’s fair to be eating away at the billable hours of the living?

Look, this is probably all coming off as incredibly insensitive. It’s just that I always get riled up on Labor Day, another half-baked excuse for the hippies and the communists to loaf around all day and act like work is some sort of a chore, like sitting around and binge watching an entire season of Breaking Bad is something not only to be proud of, but something deserving of a national holiday.

Has anybody checked out the roots of Labor Day? I think it’s supposed to be an actual day of labor, like all right fellas, summer’s over, enough whining about the heat and trying to sneak out of work early at eight. Let’s hit the fiscal year hard, starting now, starting today, Labor Day. And that’s where you’d see your Labor Day sales, stores like Brooks Brothers and Sears would get you to load up on work shirts and trousers, so that way you couldn’t make up any excuses like, “I need five minutes to drop off my dry cleaning.” Just undo the buttons and put on a fresh shirt. And make sure you’re changing during your three-minute breaks, on your own time. We’re not paying you to put on a fashion show, here.

I’m sick and tired of people afraid to roll up their shirtsleeves and put in an honest day’s work. Everyone’s always taking bathrooms breaks or hanging out by the water cooler or dropping of their parents at the oncologist. What ever happened to a good old-fashioned work ethic? Since when did sweat and a little elbow grease become such scarce resources?

Oh no, it’s fine, I understand, your family’s having a barbeque today. Excuse me, I didn’t realize that sitting around and eating hamburgers was somehow beneficial to the economy, good for the bottom line. I’m sure the shareholders will understand why our revenue was off by about a fifth this week, “Sorry ladies and gents, but the boys felt like sitting around and drinking beer today, blowing up stupid inflatable pools for their snot-nosed little kids, even though they’ve just had a whole summer not going to school, not learning anything, because their lazy teachers with their socialist unions refuse to work for two months out of every year.”

And we wonder why China’s catching up, right? I hate to say it, but that’s a country, a people that really value the meaning of the word labor. Every day is Labor Day in China, and in a good way. Not like the commies over here, everyone looking for a government handout, another excuse to take the day off, “But boss! It’s Christmas! But boss! My mom just died! But boss! I’m just so lazy!”

Think about it. Think about what makes us great. Think about what gives your life meaning. Think about you, sitting in your backyard, shoving hotdogs down your fat face. If you change your mind, you know where to find me, I’ll be in the office, working. Let’s get back to work people. Happy Labor Day.