The original title to this post, as in, the title that first sprung to mind before I’d put fingertips to keys, actually read … Sex, Chocolate, and Awesome Shits.  But I thought that might be a bit much, so here we are.

The reason that the title was initially labelled Sex, Chocolate, and Awesome Shits is because fundamentally, it – this post – has to do with human nature.  And by that, I mean the essential elements driving us as humanoids, and the pleasure we receive from the fulfilment of these base-desires.

I find it mind-bogglingly comical in how we’ve come so far as a civilisation, as a kind of human, and yet, generally, when you bring everything back to basics, stripping our selves down to our core, what brings us most joy flowers from the beds we’ve sprouted from, and the soils fuelling them:

• Eating.
• Sexing.
• Sleeping.
• Shitting.
• And snuggling.

Isn’t this a funny thing?

Well that looks like fun.

If we added listening to music and laughing our titties off to that list, we’d have a trifecta.  Or, a multi-fecta – whatever.  The point is that a good laugh, a good shit, a good feed, a good sleep, and a good moan-full stint of fluid exchange along with a jazzy tune, or whatever else pleasures your ear bone humming in the background, is what, in my opinion, life’s about.

Cause if I think about my own lifestyle, the quotidian regulating my day-to-day amblings, it consists of little more than superfluous, “deep” conversations having to do with the roots of logic, time and space; coffee, lots of coffee; shitting, lots of shitting; sleeping; eating; and the occasional, fluid infused, bonk-a-donk, otherwise known as shagging.

And you know what, I couldn’t possibly ask for a better life.

If my day is filled with the things I’ve mentioned, I’m a happier than a guy named Larry.  There’s not much more than this that I need.  Granted, owning a lap top is something I’m very grateful for; I have terrible handwriting, I’m slow at it, and it hurts my wrists, so without this technological luxury, I’d not be able to express myself in a way I’d like to.

Though, I’ve not included “self-expression” in the list intentionally, because I think that’s more of a case of relieving; of expressing the contents within that need to vent in order to maintain one’s sanity.  So, rather than it being a matter of joy, which it certainly is in a way, it has more to do with a case of relief.  But even self-expression isn’t new.  And it doesn’t at all require fancy laptops or evolved technology, a piece of paper and a crayon will do the trick in most cases.

I mean, have you ever thought about what truly makes you happy?

Because really, people always say that money can’t buy happiness.  And that life’s about the simple things.  And now, with the influx of self-help books, and given the satirical, piss-taking (Australian for satirical) age we live in, these mantras, if you like, have almost lost their meaning.

But if you muse on this thought for longer than a fat moment, the truth in these expressions rings louder than Ringo Starr.

Maybe all you need really is love?

Our appetite for life is most flattened when we are around the ones we love, laughing, sharing a meal, sharing bodily fluids, sleeping while enjoying waves of sound in the background.  These aren’t especially evolved humanisms.  They are the sediment at the bottom of our life-full wine bottles.  There is nothing special nor exclusive in any of these occupations, they are accessible to all walks of life, and enjoyed by people around the world all the same.

And yet, we sit there, complaining that our car’s air conditioners aren’t hot enough.  Whinging about how slow our internet connection is, or at the costs of broadband.  Sighing over the fact our e-map dictated a wrong turn to us.  Popping veins in our noses because our own state’s economy has seen the average persons’ wage drop by an entire dollar.  Cursing under our breath because the train is three minutes late.

Well, you, indiscriminate non-person, can keep complaining about the dire state the world is in.  I will merely sit back on the seat of my toilet, eating a bar of Cadbury chocolate, laughing hysterically with the trooper brave enough to enter into my cubicle of destruction, while I wait patiently to make the sex with my partner.  Yes, I’m a simple, extraordinarily gross kinda fella, but you know what?

What, Rob?

That’s just the way I like it.

And so that’s the way I’m gonna live it.

Humans-are-evolved-creatures.  But it’s our roots that feed us most.