don’t be a jerk

Confession #1: I wash my face with a Clinique bar.

Clinque for men, mind you. Katie picked it out for me when were went shopping once. It’s supposed to be gentler on your skin and not dry it out so much. Mike G found out about it today and made fun of me. It was so very hurtful, and I went home and wrote a short play about it:

Confession #2: I’ve read a lot of self help books.

I’ve listened to Tony Robbins, read The Four Agreements, and even listened to some self-hypnotism program once. I like self-help material. Good self-help material gives me insights into human behavior and motivation. Sometimes I’m too lazy to follow the actual self-help advice, but I usually find them to be interesting reading.

Thanks to self-help material, I am on my way to success and personal fulfillment. Thanks to self help material, I am not in jail right now. Thanks to self help material I now know that I never really was a woman trapped in a man’s body, but just a man - a man with very normal and acceptable dreams and fantasies.

Recently my mom gave me a set of Christian self-help CDs by some dude named Pastor Joel Osteen. After three and a half CDs, the prevailing message seems to be:

If you want to be successful and unlock your true potential, all you need to do is believe in God a lot…and then wait for him to do stuff for you.

He suggests very little in the way of applicable goal-setting, or other forms of practical advice. Just “have faith, and He will take care of it.” This has got to be one of the most retarded and possibly destructive pieces personal advice I’ve ever heard in my life. I’m serious, the advice that Pastor Joel Osteen gives literally has down syndrome. His suggestions are mongoloid. Man, if hell actually exists, I am so going there for saying all this.

Confession #3: Sometimes when I can’t think of genuinely funny material, I just joke about being gay.

And when that gets old, I start making fun of retarded people.