Assembling a model kit is kinda depressing because even when you’re done and you have that really cool boat or plane or robot or whatever the hell you assembled, you’re going to be left with this weird sad feeling that you didn’t really INVENT the thing and you didn’t really CREATE anything and you didn’t really do anything INGENIOUS, and basically all you did was follow directions like a jerk and you painted something according to the textbook color scheme and you managed to keep the airplane glue from jacking up the clear plastic windows. So what the fuck did you waste all that time for? To impress your grandchildren? Fuck you, lame-ass.
Everyone has fears. I know I do, and I’ve categorized them according to a triple tier system.
On the first tier, I have three main fears — three big, dominant fears.
1. Fear of getting dumped
2. Fear of getting fired
3. Fear of getting evicted
Those are my three core fears and they’re pretty good ones. Those are big, rational, life-changing fears. I don’t feel guilty at all.
Then I have a second tier of fears. These are lesser fears, but they are still rational fears, I think. Some of them though are a little embarrassing, but I could tell anyone about them and they’d probably understand, even if they weren’t afraid of the same things.
My third tier of fear involves all of the things that I am irrationally afraid of, and that I am genuinely embarrassed to admit to.
Getting bitten on the toe by a mysterious pelican while I’m swimming in the ocean.
Someone hearing me poop.
Being held-up by an armed gunman while I’m at a urinal.
Being accidentally seduced by a gay man.
Getting bitten on the anus by a mysterious pelican while I’m on the toilet.