Just like how a human body cannot possibly function normally with two left hands instead of one left and one right, we all have a role in life. Some people are picked to pick cherries. Others pick berries. Still others pick winners at race-track (see: fools). And on "Deal or No Deal", essentially the contestant is picking suitcases in a more drawn-out suspense-inducing way. We mustn't forget about the random weirdo standing on a street corner picking their nose their entire life. I speak not from experience.

Now I thought I was destined to become a computer programmer, or at least something remotely connected* to technology. I mean cmon, typical nerd here, with the glasses, the dorky laugh, the very corny humor, the fascination with the numbers 0 and 1, the ability to appear like I can do complex calculations in my head when I'm actually stalling for enough time to discreetly type away on my calculator's keypad, and above all else, I'm ASIAN. The vast majority of us are, whether we like it or not, nerds. Two weeks into my job, I'm beginning to have some serious doubts.

No need to run into your bomb shelters just yet, just keep on quietly stocking up on bottled water if you must, because it's not that drastic. In fact, I'm not even sure the actual job has anything to do with anything. You see, I come home each day exhausted, because not only am I working, I'm reading/learning so that I can finish the tasks set before me.

Yeah, sounds like school, except instead of being in my bedroom, I'm in a cubicle; instead of falling asleep in class, I fall asleep in meetings; instead of complaining how Sean Paul's sucktacular music is affecting my schoolwork, I complain about how Sean Paul's sucktastic music is affecting my work-work. And there is no "I'm going to not do this assignment and take the zero because it's 3am and there's no way I can come up with 10 pages of writing on one topic, because that is strictly reserved for my blog".

*Intermission* I'm not really going for 10 pages here. But if it happens, it happens. I must point out that I have aleady used a few pop culture references. Maybe I can go for 15 in one post. We'll see how I've done at the end.

At least one thing has stayed the same. I still don't get what's going on at any given time. Wait, that makes two things, because my aawesomeness has not changed in the least. Actually neither have the truths in the Bible and the fact that Jesus has guaranteed my salvation. Also, the sky is still blue, coffee is still a be-all-end-all cure for everything, Mariah Carey is still old and washed up, I will still be yelled at for writing such long posts, and John Mayer's music is still relevant. Finally, I am still very-liciously gangster.

Permission to digress because I think I may have strayed from the point. So I get home, and am immediately put to work in the yard by my dear mother, bless her good heart. I mean she just wants to protect the house.

From the still frustratingly uncovered weapons of mass destruction supposedly in Iraq you ask? Or is it from LL Cool J's bad acting?

First of all, it's slightly disturbing that they have found no WMDs yet. I thought I sent Batman over there. Bush administration, I'm officially calling you out on this, and would like to start a feud with you, preferably by sniping at each other through diss tracks released on mixtapes. Or petty name calling, I'm fine with whatever.

Secondly, just check out this impressive list: Deep Blue Sea, Rollerball and Charlie's Angels. Yup, all featuring LL. That's some mighty good work there LL. Can I call you LL? Didn't think you'd want me to....LL.

No, my mother wants my house protected from, get this, CATERPILLARS. That's just creepy.** My house has been invaded by caterpillars. And I'm talking like all over the place, it's just gross. They've managed to set up shop on the tree that is 5 feet away from the house. Check this picture out:

Yup, sure does look as gross as how K-Fed's music sounds. And by that I mean on a scale from 1 to 10, with 1 being "as beautiful as Jennifer Morrison" and 10 being "Nasty", this is a 23 - "Grosser than anything that will ever appear on an episode of Fear Factor".

So I manually pick them up, either one by one, or if they conveniently group together then I can grab a few at a time, and toss them into a plastic bag for future disposal. And guess what? I'm GOOD AT IT. I pick up caterpillars two times faster than the time it takes Jack Bauer to extract info from and kill a roomful of bad guys. I'm the most efficient caterpillar picker-uper this side of the North Pole. Which is basically the entire globe because (*Warning* You're about to learn something) THERE ARE NO SIDES in a sphere.

Welcome to summer school, my name is Buttug, and you've just been smartened.

Folks, I do not know where I'm going in this life anymore. Picking caterpills vs Full-Time-Nerd remains rather unsettled. And no one likes fights, cakes or western frontiers that are unsettled.

Feel free to vote for what you would prefer me to be. It's called audience interaction. It's vital after a post so long-winded and superflous (which means there was so much unnecessary content, this definition itself being unnecessary because Google can tell you just about anything and everything you would ever want to know, like how many plastic surgeries Michael Jackson really has had) post that I give any reader that is still reading a reward. And the freedom/right to vote (along with supposed WMDs) is something many wars have been fought for.

And so voting will commence at the point of post publishing, and polls close when I I'm just not feelin the vote no more. And we the folks from Stupefying Stupidity, in collaboration with Boyz II Men, would like to Thank You In Advance.***

*Haha, remote connections. I guess the pun was intended, seeing as how I circled back and editted that line to include that.
**Pun in-your-face-tended.
***That right there is number 15. Somebody get me a cookie.