Exploiting My Talents

Right now it is easy to say that I am going through somewhat of an identity crisis. I’m not talking about the postmodernist bullshit where I can’t decide whether or not life is a mere sequence of events or mapped out by some spaghetti monster in the sky. I’m talking about what I want to do with my life. Apart from my ambition to be kick ass for the rest of my life, I have no idea what I want to do, or be.

I am pretty sure I am intelligent enough to do almost anything I want. I mean, I’m not Winston Churchill smart, though I think I'm Neville Chamberlain smart and I definitely know I’m smarter than that asshole Herbert Hoover. But then the problem isn’t really know-how, it’s desire. And right now the only thing I desire to do is to not work, or at least work hard.

As you might have guessed, (unless you have a mild form of Down syndrome, autism or a combination of both which I like to call “downtism,”) I am somewhat of a daydreamer and very ambitionless. I keep wondering if there is anyway I could profit on my current talents; my very, very limited talents.

My list of talents include: throwing a Frisbee with distance and decent accuracy, the flash game 3d pong, an uncanny memory for things that happened on the Simpsons, masturbating to Facebook, and drinking. Now unless they invent a new way for me to make money by playing 3d pong, drinking is my last option.

When I say I’m good at drinking, I mean I’m really good at drinking. I have found that I have an uncanny knack for performing well in a variety of drinking games. You name it, I can beat you in it; beer pong, boat races, flippy cup, moose, a frisbee full of beer, circle of death, quarters, drive the bus, etc. etc. This begs the question, is there anyway for me to profit from obliterating my liver?

I have put some extensive though into this, maybe there is some way for me to go to parties with my friends and hustle people for money. I’ve worked it out carefully, I act like this is the first time I ever drank and that my friends just as bad. Then, we put money on the line and crush them, and continue to take their money until they are curled up in a fetal position on the ground weeping and begging for mercy.

We will do this until we have amassed enough of a profit to travel and go from college town to college town until we have made enough to invest wisely in a hedge fund, or a smart investment company. Through my rough calculations we will make about 500,000 within the first month, and close to a couple of billion by year end (depending on investments and market conditions). Then we live like kings, sitting on a private island, making love to our girlfriends, Hayden Panatierre, Halle Berry, and Leonard Nemoy.

Seems simple enough right? It is. But alas, I have about as purpose driven as a dog addicted to meth (well maybe more like a sloth). The point being that this is a pipe dream. This is about as likely to happen as Anne Coulter being described as "level headed." But that’s what pipe dreams are for right? Until the day when I actually figure out how to make an obscene amount of money for accurately putting a quarter in a shot glass I’ll have to work on a “real” profession, like drug dealing, ditch digging, or infomercial actor.

But as long as I have my dreams, I can continue to perfect my drinking skills. Now this is endurance training I could get used too…

Rancid Rhetoric

Here it is, after much deliberation over what to name the blog, being Rancid Rhetoric has finally come into existence.

What is the point of such a blog and what makes the rhetoric of it so rancid? Is it simply a way to showcase the mediocre musings of a decaying English major? Or is it something more?

All of these questions came to me when I decided to create it. I hope to showcase my intellectual and creative ability without turning it into a simple “what I did today” and “how I feel” blog. If anybody else in this fucked up world is slightly like me, then they’d rather hear a story about binging on an obscene amount of alcohol and then urinating in an open car window than how my feelings were hurt because my friend didn’t invite me to a fondue party.

If you are one of those persons that can become emotionally invested into a salad dressing and are easily offended, then you’ll get more from watching Star wars kid on youtube than will from this blog (assuming you don’t find star wars kid offensive).

My goal is not to keep you updated on what Will Smith movies I have recently seen, no, my goal is, simply, to turn the mundane into the sublime. I hope to widen your myopic scope into a world that is simply fucked. Will I be offensive, crude, and downright insensitive? You’re god damn right I will. I am under the belief that if some topic is off limits, than everything is off limits.

I am with my obvious flaws, I have the indecisiveness of Hamlet and I possess the emotional depth of a snail with autism. But if I am one thing, I am fucked. I’d much rather crack jokes about Bernie Mac’s untimely death than tell you how you should be praising your God. I make judgments, sure, but why the fuck not, it’s my blog?

Right now this blog parallels my life, a random engagement of events with no discernable direction. But fuck it, I believe in evolution and I guess we’ll just have to see where it goes. I’d like to think it will go through somewhat of a “literary Darwinism” where only the strong pieces will survive, allowing the weak to die off faster than Steven Seagal’s rap career.

In the end it is an experiment and the last hope of an English major with no creative outlet. This is the first entry, and probably the most normal one you will ever see.