What up, weirdo nerds!!! Another week, another blog post from the Uber-nerd of Bakersfield. I started work at my 2nd job this week, and it seems okay. I still get this sense of hostility from my co-workers at my 1st job, and a lot of hostility from my co-workers at my 2nd job. That is the plight of a “Chosen One”—you are hated for no reason. In my 2nd job, I watch 7th and 8th graders as well as 1st graders in after-school programs, and I think the kids were hazing me a little because they gave me a hard time during the shifts I had with them, but it's ok; I am used to that type of treatment from people. As a “Chosen One,” you are always in a perpetual hazing by people. People seem to want to constantly test you, yet never get to know you, because it would expose the type of person or people they are compared to you. In my first job, I have an ally in Takishia Sellers. She is an older woman and religious, and she likes me as a worker. Which is good because, as a “Chosen One,” we don’t get too many people rooting for us. Most people on the down-low want to see us messed up on drugs and homeless, but that is the life of a “Chosen One.” People on the down-low hate us to the point that they would love to have a front-row seat to see our downfall. It’s like my relationship with my family. During my upbringing, it was known by others that I was considered "Chosen," but this information was not communicated to me. They would always downplay my accomplishments and pretend I didn’t exist. They would overlook me intentionally, so I would never reach my full potential, and as a Chosen One, the only people who will really show you love and attention are strangers who aren’t related to you, because as society progresses, most families nowadays are united in competition and not love. Because of this, in most families, if you are “chosen,” you are the enemy, and you will never be given any advantages. As a matter of fact, most everybody in your family will compete with you in “The Game of Life” to see how you will turn out years later with no guidance or help from your mother and father, but God would not allow someone such as me to fall by the wayside, a God-fearing man, so he will send strangers to help a chosen one because his own family will betray him and leave him for dead. In the first "God of War" game, Kratos is abandoned by the gods and takes his own life. Yet Kratos is saved and keeps living on in the “God of War” game series; that is how a male “Chosen One” lives. He or she will just have to hold onto faith that God will help at the right time. As it stands now, I am alone in life. My family has moved somewhere that I don’t know where and has made up some backstory about me. Like, for example, I turned into a male prostitute and died a drug addict. Since they moved to another state, they can make up any story they want and pretend that I am dead. But this “chosen one” lives. Anyway… Till next time. MAHALO!

Hello, fellow nerds! It’s time to share what I’ve been up to lately! I recently started my second job, and while it seems fun, my co-workers don't seem very welcoming. I get the sense that they think I’m too good to be true, which is a common issue for those of us who might be considered as "Chosen Ones." We often come off as "too good," and because people find it hard to believe that someone like me can actually be this good, they tend to distrust us or treat us poorly. Even though I say and do all the right things at my job—this happens at all my jobs, by the way—I often find myself being ignored or avoided. Instead of taking me at face value, that I am a good person and might be considered a "male saint" in today's age, they seem to think I'm hiding some dark, two-faced persona. I know they won’t express this directly, especially since I'm working at the Boys & Girls Club, a position that involves working with kids, but that’s definitely the vibe I get from my co-workers. It’s as if simply not having any tattoos is enough for them to suspect I’m some kind of two-faced person capable of terrible things, like "Dexter," just waiting to be discovered. In today’s world, it seems like the norm for many people, both kids and adults, is to have tattoos and unconventional hairstyles. Nowadays, even priests might have tattoos and struggle with alcohol abuse, so if you work in a place like the Boys & Girls Club, with kids, and don’t drink, smoke, or have any tattoos, you’re often viewed with suspicion, like you are some pedophile "on the down-low that has never been caught" or as if you were a potential criminal like Jeffrey Dahmer. I come from the 1980s, when it was more common for people not to drink, and very few had tattoos unless they were Vietnam veterans (Tunnel Rats) or had been through significant hardships. In my time, even decorated Vietnam veterans typically didn’t have tattoos, while in today's world it seems like police officers are covered from head to toe. Just a couple of weeks ago, I saw a policeman walking across the street who looked more like a gang member than an officer due to his extensive tattoos and shaved head. Because I have no tattoos and don’t drink or smoke, I’m often labeled as a "wuss" or a "weirdo," as if I’ve never been through anything significant in my 51 years of life. People might not say this to my face, but I can tell by their body language that they view me with suspicion. For example, if I walk into a lunchroom where a few women are talking and they suddenly stop when I enter, exchanging nervous glances before leaving 5 minutes later, it’s clear that they’re not comfortable with me in the room because they think I am "Jeffrey Dahmer" or "Dexter." What they are really doing is watching too much Netflix, and they are not really experiencing things. Or, I am an attractive man, I believe I am, yet the women at my job at the Boys & Girls Club would rather gravitate towards a tattooed fat fuck guy with earrings instead of approaching me; it’s disheartening. They may never verbalize their feelings, but I can sense that they view me as someone dangerous, influenced by the negative stereotypes perpetuated by shows on streaming services. Many people are bombarded with images of seemingly "perfect" men who turn out to be serial killers, which creates a sinister perception of those who present themselves as "good men" in real life. It’s unfortunate that someone as normal as I am carries the social stigma of being viewed as a "serial killer just waiting to happen." The sad reality is that truly good men often miss out on the American dream—the opportunity to get married, have kids, and own a home—because of these misconceptions….Netflix Zombies! In the 21st century, good is viewed as bad, and bad is seen as good. Welcome to the new reality! In the 21st century…good people SUFFER! And bad people enjoy themselves! I HATE PEOPLE. MAHALO! Mathew 24:9 "They will hate you because you believe in me" John 15:18-25 " “If the world hates you, (A) keep in mind that it hated me first. 19 If you belonged to the world, it would love you as its own."

Hi everyone! It’s another blog post from the Uber Nerd of Bakersfield. I started training for my second job this week at the Boys & Girls Club, and I can't shake the feeling that people were staring at me or questioning the validity of everything I said. During CPR training, I stood closer to a dummy next to another person—a twenty-something doing the training. He looked at me as if I were a criminal. On the second day, we were asked to come up with "icebreakers" to help the kids open up. I thought suggesting, "What anime do you guys like?" would be a good idea, but two girls in my group stared at me as if I had just said something completely inappropriate. One of them said, "That is not appropriate to ask kids!" and shot me a look as if I were a pedophile that hasn't been caught. I replied, "Really? Asking kids what anime they like is inappropriate?" She insisted, "Yes!" So I asked, "How about asking them what their favorite movie is? Is that better?" With a smug tone and expression, she said, "Yes!" I can’t help but think about another guy in our training class who is around my age, losing his hair, and has a messed-up hand. I wonder why nobody questions him. He seems well-received and accepted, while I’m 51, in great shape, have two working arms, and look 19 thanks to my outstanding health. Yet, in this training at the Boys & Girls Club, I feel like an outsider. The others keep giving me sideways glances as if I’m strange. It’s sad to see how society has changed. Back in the 1980s, someone with a disability like losing a limb wouldn’t have been considered for a job working with kids, yet today they are embraced. Now, someone like me— a strong, young-looking 51-year-old with no gray hair—is treated like a pedophile. On the last day of training, I continued to get odd looks from the other trainees. When I mentioned that years ago, there used to be EpiPens with migraine medication that you could inject through your clothes, the trainer felt the need to fact-check me as if I were lying. It makes me think that if that one-armed guy had made a bold-faced lie, nobody would have questioned it. It sucks to be a "Chosen One". People really treat you poorly! Until next time, MAHALO!

Hi Fellow Nerds! I've just finished my budget, and it looks good so far now that I've landed another job. I should have about $200 in play money, which I will probably use to get "Elden Ring" and play it with my coworker, Gus. I'm starting to think I may have finally found a home at People’s Care, although I say that about every job I’ve had, and yet, seven months down the road, I’m fired. In my early years, I didn’t realize that it’s often the good workers who get fired, while those who do things half-heartedly tend to last longer. I need to learn not to work too hard, even though I don’t think I am working hard to begin with. I’ve also watched a few YouTube videos about gang stalking that may lead to someone committing suicide. I feel that’s what happened to me, with my brother (Pablo-Diablo) as the ringleader, along with my mother. I hate my brother; I hate my mother. They are both dead to me. It’s really hard to accept that my brother and mother wanted me dead because of their jealousy and envy. The insecurities they had they projected onto me. I just had to leave my family and never talk to them again! It’s scary to be completely alone in the world, but that seems to be the plight of truly good people. After being backstabbed too many times by those they trust, they no longer want to associate with anyone. I just got a call from Jim Burke Ford. They are fixing my car as we speak, and they say that not only is my suspension messed up, but there is also something wrong with the steering column. If it’s not one thing, it’s another. The reason I have this car is that my mother manipulated me into trading my very reliable Toyota for this piece of junk, a Ford Focus. I should know by now that everything my mother does is only for her own gain, making it look like she’s a good person when she’s not. She even told me that the car is a good car, but she was really just saying that to get my Toyota Tacoma for herself. Toyotas are the most reliable cars, and she wanted to get rid of her hunk of junk Ford Focus. Might as well give it to her son whom she hates and wants dead by his own hand. Like Suck Man! Till next time... Mahalo!

Another week, another nerdy post from the ultimate nerd of Bakersfield! I'm writing this on Friday because I have to get my oil change and air conditioning service done on Saturday. Lately, I've been reflecting on my childhood and how I grew up to be the man I am today. I’ve realized that everything seemed to be stacked against me. My family, especially my mother, who disliked men, often felt like they were trying to hold me back. Despite all of this, I still succeeded, and that makes me feel accomplished! I had a very successful 8-year relationship with a woman, even with my entire family against me, including my dad and brother. It saddens and angers me that none of them acknowledge this incredible accomplishment. Strangers who see me can sense that there’s something different about me—something extraordinary. It's like I’ve been through hell, yet I still carry myself like someone who hasn't faced any struggles. I often think of it as akin to a Vietnam War veteran who appears unscathed on the outside. I keep pondering how my mother constantly feels the need to compete with me, even at 80 years old. It’s baffling that a mother would want to compete with her own son, especially one who is more intellectually gifted. Then there’s my brother, who has much to be proud of yet seems to harbor jealousy toward me. He makes $90,000 a year, has plenty of friends, and multiple ex-girlfriends—but that doesn’t guarantee happiness. It’s evident to me that his success, attained perhaps through backstabbing or questionable means, fuels his resentment toward me, a man who makes minimum wage but has a clean conscience. I also have a co-worker who constantly brags about his six-figure salary and rubs it in my face. Like my brother, people who flaunt their success often gained it through unscrupulous methods. They feel insecure around someone like me, who has achieved success through hard work and honesty. I cherished my 8-year relationship with a woman, treating her with respect and spoiling her with fancy dinners and thoughtful presents—an achievement earned the right way. When people feel the need to compete or look down on someone like me, it’s often because they recognize their own shortcomings. They've climbed the ladder of success by dubious means and, when they see someone like me, who has remained honest and hardworking, it invokes their jealousy. Ultimately, I believe that you want to leave behind a good story when you pass away. Anyways… (That’s what my ex-girlfriend used to say.) Till next time! MAHALO!