Personal Reflections on Social Interactions and Family Dynamics

Hi y'all! Hiya nerds! I had a pretty good week again. Most people I meet never seem to want to be around me, and I often get this funny feeling that they're faking their enjoyment of my company while secretly wishing to see me fail. Recently, I’ve been watching documentaries about people in America struggling to pay their bills. My family has always expressed hatred for my happiness in the house we used to live in here in Bakersfield. They have made it clear many times how they can't stand seeing me happy, believing it's because I haven't been working and paying bills like they do. However, after working and paying bills for the past 30 years and still being happy about it, I realize their disdain for me has nothing to do with my work status. They hate me because I am happier than they are, despite having less. When you're working in America, you have money to spend on whatever you like. I figured this out in my first year of work. I've come to understand that my family consists of negative individuals who never appreciate their blessings and focus only on what they lack. They used to think that my lack of work was the reason for their misery, but they can’t use that excuse anymore. I've been working 12 to 16-hour days for over 30 years, and they still hate me. It seems that a lot of people I meet harbor similar feelings of resentment. Initially, I thought it was because they had it harder than me, but now that I'm older, I see that many have it much easier—they just choose to be ungrateful and lack perspective. The real reason I was happy in our home on 4210 Siene River in Bakersfield wasn't because I was merely enjoying myself; it was that they were the ones who couldn't find happiness—even with what they had, acting like spoiled brats. Realizing this, I know now to distance myself from people. Most of them will never truly befriend someone who is genuinely happy; they just want to see that happy person suffer and may even wish to be the ones to ignite that flame. With each passing day, my disdain for people grows… Until next time! MAHALO!

Personal Success in the Digital Age

Hi y'all, fellow nerds! How are you all doing out there in Nerdland? I've been reminiscing about how people treat me in this town and how most folks seem to be mentally stuck in the 1980s. They still think you can't succeed unless you know someone. In this age of technology and the internet, they believe you actually need a connection to be successful. Well, let me tell you, America is not the Soviet Union, okay? The United States accepts anybody, and if you’re someone who keeps to yourself, you can succeed too. If you don’t have or want a lot of social connections, you can still find success. The United States is the land of the "misfits." Anyone can succeed here if they work hard. Don’t believe those financial TikToks or YouTube videos telling you that it’s impossible to succeed in America through sheer work ethic. It is totally possible! I was at the gym yesterday, reflecting on how I’m still the same person from years ago who was dismissed by others as "gay" and even harassed. I was nearly run over by a BMW! Now, look at my brother, Paul, who scoffed at my workout journey, thinking he had a better way to get women. How are things working out for you now, Paul? With your gout, high blood pressure, high cholesterol, and declining health? I get the sense my brother wants to redo his life and live like me now since he’s teaching his son to be like me—working out and playing video games. But I know that life is not easy. At this point, I’m willing to bet my nephew, Caleb, has probably given up on video games and working out because he sees how much harder that life is compared to my brother's. Sitting at the bar, drinking, making work contacts, and socializing to get women is an easier way to live, and I think my nephew is starting to figure that out. I suspect my brother pushed him to compete with me in that sense. Honestly, all I wanted when I started my workout journey was to find a woman, have a family, and work at the quickie mart—that was it. Instead, I’ve found myself in a silent competition with so many people! Some have already passed away, and new ones keep joining in just to beat me at whatever game they think they're playing. I've come to realize that despite being a gamer, it's actually other people who are playing games, and I have to say, I really hate people!

Personal Blog Post: Dealing with Dislike

**Wat-Up, Nerds!!!** Another blog post from the most hated man in town. It can be very mentally painful to be the most disliked person wherever you go. It often feels like everyone is out to get you just because you have an innocent face. People don’t expect you to defend yourself when they try to take advantage of you. They end up getting the business end instead, and because their egos are so big, they want to one-up you. I guess that happens when you anger one of the "cool kids," one of the "in-crowd." Even if you're in the right, they will recruit others to try to get back at you like little kindergarteners playing dodgeball, trying to even the score. They never consider what they gain by doing this, which is usually a whole lot of nothing. Years ago, a supervisor at a car wash decided to hate on me simply because I was in better shape than all of them combined. When I filed a sexual harassment complaint against him—something he didn't expect—he lost his job and his career. I think I have been paying the price for that defense for decades now. I realized this was still an issue when I went to the supermarket the other day to get groceries. A homeless man approached me to beg for money. I joked with him that he scared me, and he reacted like he was going to attack me! That was an overreaction in my book. It’s as if he knew from the collective consciousness of the town to treat me poorly. Even though he's homeless, he still feels the need to try and one-up me because of that sexual harassment case from years ago. These so-called “cool kids” should just concede defeat. What my former supervisor did years ago was unprofessional, and he deserved to be fired and lose his career. But no! The "in-crowd" has way too much ego to admit wrongdoing and pay for it fairly, especially to someone like me without social connections. They assumed I was just a naive gamer who could be easily manipulated, and because there were so many of them, they thought I would be an easy target. It turns out I wasn't. However, when I gave the homeless man some food, he scoffed at me, as if to say I was cheap. Right next to him was a woman who looked like she was part of the "in-crowd." I could sense her looking at me in my black scrubs and athletic build. You’d think she would at least say, “Hi, what’s your name?” but no! Ever since I filed that case against my former supervisor, the local "in-crowd" has been out to get me. Of course, she would just look at me and never say anything, even though we might make a good couple. Just the other day, I received an Instagram message from a fake profile pretending to be a sexy woman. Again, I sense this originates from my filing against that "in-crowd" supervisor who lost his career because of my actions. I put "her" in her place too. What self-respecting woman, especially one who looked respectable from her photo, would message a man to come over for sex? It just highlights the stupidity of the "in-crowd." No classy woman would ever behave that way, and after I confronted her, I bet it just invited more unwarranted attacks from the "in-crowd." I have a post on my Facebook about this, discussing the concept of “collective consciousness.” It makes me wonder, if people are this foolish to treat someone like me so poorly for no reason other than to appear cool, then I want nothing to do with them at all! I HATE PEOPLE SO MUCH!!!

Personal Weekly Update Blog Post

What's up, nerds! Another week, another blog post. I had an okay week. This week, my car is due for its service and needs an oil change. It’s scheduled for the 20,000-mile service. I called them up, and they said it’s fine if I go over the 20,000-mile mark a little bit, so I might get my service done maybe on Monday or something—I don’t know. I don’t want to wait too long because it’s my only car, and if I lose it or it breaks down, there goes my life. In California, having a car is essential; maybe it’s different in New York, but in California, without a car, you're pretty much at risk of being homeless. Luckily, I have a really dependable car that’s built for commuting—a Toyota Corolla 4-cylinder sedan. It’s not made for speed but can handle basic commuting from point A to point B, which is what most people want out of their vehicle. A lot of the COs at my job drive really fast cars, and I can’t help but wonder how long those last and what their gas mileage and reliability are like. My Toyota is known as one of the most dependable cars in the American market, so I’m pretty much set when it comes to automobiles for a while. I also had CPR training yesterday, which was Friday. One of the trainers gave me a look that seemed like she liked me—or at least thought I was cute. I think she’s married, LOL! I guess I give off quite the impression to the women at my job, which is probably why some of the more masculine women try to compete with me and also the male COs. It can get annoying to go to work and feel like you’re in the playoffs constantly, as if you’re playing some sort of game where the prize is just a bigger ego. Personally, I’d much rather work together with others, but then again, that might be why my family doesn’t like me. I’m beginning to think that people like me, who don’t compete—let’s call us "Non-Gamers"—tend to make others look bad. Since none of my family are "Non-Gamers," they are all 'gamers", they probably all dislike me because, as I told a friend a long time ago, "When you don’t compete, you will win the competition" even if you weren’t competing in the first place or didn’t even know you were in a contest. It reminds me of when I started going to the gym here in Bakersfield around 1996. Nobody cared whether I was there or not; there were so many total badasses there—all ripped and big. I felt intimidated, like I didn’t belong, but I persevered anyway and kept at it. a year later, I got fairly big and muscular, but nowhere near as muscular as some of the others. I trained in a way that was different from them—drug-free and alcohol-free. Once, a big guy, steroid-using guy commented as another rookie at the gym was trying to follow my training style, he shouldn’t follow my lead because “I don’t know what I’m doing,” and I know the rest of the bodybuilders were laughing. Flash forward to 2026, and I am 52 years old now, and here I am. I do cardio for an hour, and I’ve been doing it for almost 25 years now. I’m a little bigger than I was before, and all those total badasses from 1996 are gone. I don’t see any of them in any gyms in town. I think one of them went to jail for drug dealing, and I know another one, who I kind of looked up to—he was my height but ten times bigger—died after a confrontation with some kids who were playing loud music outside his house. The three kids ganged up on him when he got angry, and they beat him to death. Over the years, I've worked out like them, always on the down-low, laughed at because I supposedly didn’t know what I was doing while they did. Well, they’re all gone from the gym now. I think a lot of them are embarrassed about how they look due to excessive steroid use, alcohol abuse, age, and chemical dependency. They thought they were invincible, but it caught up with them. But here I am, still looking the same, if not better, than in 1996—drug-free and alcohol-free. I also didn’t realize that when you work out and stay drug-free and alcohol-free for the rest of your life, you become mentally tough too. Now, not only am I slightly bigger than I was in 1996, but since I stayed sober, I’m mentally tougher than before and can handle any mental strain. Nothing gets to me. That bodybuilder from back in the day, who made that comment about me not knowing what I was doing in the gym, came to Planet Fitness one time. When I saw him, he looked like an old, overweight man with steroid and alcohol problems. His face looked old. He was probably just as old as I am now, yet he looked much older. I looked at him, and he looked at me. I started to think he might have found out that I still work out after all these years and wanted to see how I looked. When he saw that I looked slightly bigger and better looking from the neck up and the neck down, he never came back! I HATE PEOPLE! MAHALO!