A few months ago, while starting on my
current line of work, I was struck with a rare epiphany and I was
inspired to examine my life and work out some goals in order to make sure that this damn waste of oxygen I call my life finally gets some direction.
In that same entry, I wrote that one of my goals in life is to
become a rockstar. In case you don’t remeber that particular snippet of
thought (or if you’re too lazy to click on the link), this is what I
said:
Job Description:
I’m the frontman of some talentless band like Cueshe.
I can’t sing, I can’t dance, I can’t play an instrument, I can’t even
hold a tambourine properly, but music critics are hailing my album as
the greatest thing since sliced bread. I’d be famous and banging chicks
left and right because of my pathetic display of my non-talents.
However, I’d be so drunk in the morning that I won’t even remember the
fact that the seemingly hot chick I hit on a few hours ago was actually
my equally drunk male guitarist.How to Achieve Goal:
First, I need to find a bunch of
musicians that are amazingly talented but are willing to waste their
gifts so we could form a band that’ll play my three-chord songs with
lyrics that are variants of “I’m single and I’m so sad.” We’ll
advertise our uniqueness by labeling our music as “emo”, “goth”, “epic
rock”, or some other uninspired tag that we just made up.Job Benefits:
I’d get the chicks, the cash, and all the crap that goes with it. And fall into a drunken stupor.Then I’d wake up and realize that I’ve wasted the last ten years getting drunk and I’ve lost all my money.
