Yes, a vicious circle is created (or you can call it the law of supply and demand)
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Well I didn’t hire a expensive escort but I did buy myself an expensive porno entitled sexual healing.
It was a nurse theme and boy were they ever great at physical therapy. 
For some reason the doctor’s outfit looked like it was purchased at a local walmart but I payed no mind to it.
( I gave the movie a six and a half rating.)
I prostitute myself, like the vast majority.
Then I use the money to pretend I am not a whore by buying nice little gadgets and shiny little trinkets that prove that I am cool or like the Jonses.
Sometimes when I’m feeling a little down because all my acquisitions that promised me eternal happiness wear out, I inebriate myself using God or alcohol or any drugs really. Then this becomes proof of my happiness and coolness.
But mainly I convince myself that I am not prostituting myself and that I deserve this money. To the point where my income and my job become inseparable from my definition of self.
I love this post.
My pain entertains you?
Good.
Here’s some more of my pain and suffering:
I also convince myself that I am worth something…if for nothing else as a member of this consuming, producing society i call my own.
I vote for imbeciles because they remind me of who I am and I am not troubled by a government that bails out banks who then feel free to lend morns, with big dreams and small brains, money to buy large mansions and luxury cars on middle-class earnings.
Then, when it all comes crashing down, I blame terrorists and "big government’ and ‘high taxes’.
If I’m lucky I get to go on Oprah Winfrey where this multi-billionaire tells me how to live my life and how to spend less than I earn…because this level of common sense is too much for my well-educated, modern, well-informed brain.
Then I claim to be the equal to everyone else and deserving of rights.
It entertains me only in that it mirrors my own.
I haven’t got to that stage yet. Probally won’t either.
I’m sensing a bit of cruel irony in these posts.
=D>
Yes siree.
Sometimes i dream of being on Dr. Phil where that hillbilly snake-oil salesman can interrupt his self-promotion, under the tender loving gaze of his wife, to tell me how to fix my life because, obviously, an ivy league education and access to information and all that freedom I’ve got in my Democracy, that needs to be spread around the world whether they like it or not, has not managed to make me smart enough to manage my own life.
Yet, I am considered the equal of anyone else, and my perspective is of no lower value than anybody else’s.
Then when my well-informed equal mind is told why the richest country in the world cannot provide health care for 40 million of its citizens, when countries one-tenth the size manage it,
I can count the money I saved by not being taxed by big government, because therein lies all the problem, and I can live in ignorant bliss thinking of myself as a good person and a good citizen and a compassionate, selfless guy, who just happens to think killing for oil is bringing Democracy to a country I couldn’t find on the map a few years ago, is a good idea.
And when Phil is done injecting little casual snippets about how his one son is a musician with an album out and his wife just published another book - yes, she too, offers advice to the well-educated, equal U.S. citizenry - he can walk out of the studio, his wife in tow, a picture of marital bliss and the audience can clap and clap, content that they learned something profound:
Like consuming less calories than you burn makes you lose weight, or living within your means is preferable than living on credit, or we are all the same, yet different.
I am a bartender at a TGI Fridays while working my way through school.
It has made me a nihilist, and yes, it is exhausting.
Is that a subtle homage to the big leboswki?
I am a retarded Ironworker, so I mostly beg from my wife for enough green to keep my hog in parts and on the road. I guess that makes me an easy rider, which used to be ghetto for pimp.
For what? Not doing something incredibly stupid? That is what I pay my kids for. Here’s some money. Don’t hit that damned rock with the lawn mower. Get it? Mow the grass; not the rock. Thank God they’re not as lazy as me.
Was it hard to resist temptation…?
I think the nurses would have looked so much better in this:
…and preferably with a very strong sedative in that syringe!
I bet his wife would like to see that. She might be able to train him to put down the seat.