Donate To My [Fake] Cause

It just so figures that right when I want or "need" the most things, it happens to be right when I'm out of a fucking job. There are so many things that are out that I want right now. It's not even fair. My savings have been drained to just a few dollars after spending it on minimal living costs and recertification processes. I'm half tempted to put jars in gas stations with a picture of my face on them asking for donations. Ideally, I would look disheveled and sad in the picture. The caption on the jar would read:

"Hello, my name is Johnny. I'm a Scorpio and I would like to travel the world. But sadly, I cannot. Because I was born without testicles. It's a rare disease called "sine masculini." Please donate generously so that I may one day afford convincing prosthetics for my condition. Help me get my self-confidence back by allowing me to feel like I have a pair again. Thank you and God bless."

I will have effectively hit every key demographic to contribute to my condition. The crazies who feel my astrological sign is in peril. The saps who are sorry I can't travel the world. The general male population who would almost certainly shed a man-tear at a kid just wanting a pair of balls. And the last part implying I might be religious and nice gets just about everyone else in Utah. They would all be powerless against my sad paragraph. I would never have to work again. I would be the scum of the earth relying on the money of well-intentioned people who just want to see a sad young adult get a pair of titanium balls. (I say titanium because that would be the only type of testicular prosthesis I would want. I think most men would agree.)

It's almost full-proof. I would eventually get caught, but the ride would be well worth it. It would be interesting to see if my logic would predict my demographic donations. And it would be just as interesting to see how many people would be willing to donate towards a testicular prosthesis impulsively based on a paragraph and picture at a 7-Eleven.

*Sigh*

I think it's obvious that I have way too much free time nowadays. It's gotten to the point that I almost have nothing to do, even though there is plenty for me to do. The things I have to do aren't very important or pressing so it doesn't matter that much. As I write this, it's 3:21 in the afternoon and I'm in pajama pants and my favorite trashy t-shirt. I woke up, showered, changed into my comfy pajama pants and shirt, watched the X-Files, and am now writing this blog. I really should find something to do. My room needs some cleaning. I've been putting that off. I can't go to to the gym. I'm too OCD to go during the week. I have to start at the beginning of the week or not go at all.

Hope all is well for you on the other side of the screen, gentle blog reader.