Shots from the Hirp

So yesterday was interesting, seems ol’ Hirp here forgot to take his meds. No, there’s no punch line here. I got ready, and took off for work yesterday morning without taking my Ritalin. Leading to one unproductive day, and that’s just putting it nicely. More accurately would be to say I was completely worthless. Like a set of hammers on a nun. See, most people will say they have ADD and if you give most people Ritalin you’ll see a scene much like the one in There’s Something About Mary, where Magda was cleaning the apartment and lifting up the couch. But, take away Ritalin from someone who actually needs it, and you quickly understand why their GPA at KU wouldn’t even be legally drunk if it were a blood alcohol level.

See, I have a bit of a routine at work. Do some work, hit some down time and hit some web sites to read this and that. I couldn’t even do that. Really, I couldn’t even slack off properly. At my last job, my co-workers could tell within 5 minutes if I had forgotten to take my meds. Now that I’m actually living Office Space, no one notices. I probably should have posted something yesterday, the blogging of ADD. Only I couldn’t think of anything to even start off with.

Anyway, I did get an interesting bit of info yesterday. Remember my cousin I talked about? The one I was trying to help promote his next CD release? Well, seems I’m not actually related to the Jewish Kennedy’s. No, it’s much much better. He’s the fucking Hasselhoff of New Zealand. Yes, I said it. Re-read that sentence again, I’ll give you a second. . . . Got it? Here it is, I have one cousin who is a big ad guy. You’ve seen his work, and you loved it. My other cousin is a teacher and an author. Both of them are a musician as well, who have released some CDs, Eric, the ad guy is a solo artist and Glen is in a group called Momzer. Some how both of them have moved units and received some radio time in New Zealand. How fucking random is that? I’m some what considering releasing my rap debut just in New Zealand. I could be the Jewish Slim Shady to the Kiwi’s based on my last name alone.

Also, I picked up a new book this past weekend. Killing Yourself to Live, by my new favorite author Chuck Klosterman. I’m telling you, even though most of my friends don’t read him (yet), this guy is the voice of my generation. Never mind Cobain, Pac, Jack Johnson, Dave Matthews, Carson Daly or Eminem. This guy speaks for everyone I know, and most of them don’t even know it. He has our interests, our sense of humor, our issues, our quirks, our bitterness and he speaks nothing but truth. He both makes me feel like I NEED to have a blog and that I have no reason even letting my fingers hit the keyboard all at t he same time, for I am just not worthy. I’m like 18 pages into this thing and I already know it’s going to crack my top 5 of favorite books. Never mind that I’ve read 12 books in my life. He’s on a journey to visit everyplace a rock star died. From Sid Vicious in Chelsea and Cobain’s last spot in Seattle and every dark spot in between. And luckily he’s taking me along for t he ride