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Tuesday, April 25, 2017

Gonna Entry It Up For Sure

    Hello friends.  Today is Tuesday.  How about that.  Crap and crap.  Another late night entry.  Probably only ten paragraphs this time for real.  I'm callin' my shot.  Did lab for tomorrow.  So I got that going for me.  Gonna see New Pornographers tomorrow with Bro!  Same place as Flaming Lips.  I hope they play those great songs what that they do.  One of my favorites is The Slow Descent Into Alcoholism.  It reminds me of my slow descent into alcoholism!  I also like Ballad of the Comeback Kid.  I'm a comeback kid!  I'm a ballad!  I like a lot of their songs.  Even songs that aren't theirs I like.  I dig music.
Crap and crap.  Got that to look forward to and whatnot.  And it'll be the first time I've drank since seven weeks ago.  My Slow Descent Back Into Alcoholism.  So I got that to look forward to.  Gonna miss the opening band.  Sucks to be them.  Probably not.  They get to hang out with The New Pornographers!  That's pretty good.  I wonder what kind of life lessons my brother will teach me tomorrow.  The day after the last show, I ended up giving up drinking and going on a serious diet.  I can't say he encouraged me to or anything.  I just felt like it was time to start doin' some Adult. 
    I wonder what Adult I'm gonna do after tomorrows show.  Stop spitting in the street when I've accumulated phlegm in my mouth?  That's one area that needs improvement.  Buy an iPad.  I don't know.  That's a thing.  I'm gonna try to see if we can work our way into the middle or front of the crowd this time.  It'll be a whole different experience actually being able to see the band.  I can't even imagine.  Anyway.  They have more straight forward songs than the Flaming Lips.  That's how I feel, and you can't argue with a feeling.  I also feel like I watched the first hour of Bushwacked earlier today.  There's a movie that has nothing going for it.  In most bad or mediocre movies, I can find something to like.  Bushwacked is just a big, fat zero.
    That's how I feel about things.  Crap and crap.  I'm not sure there are jokes in Bushwacked.  I think the premise, Daniel Stern In A Similar Role As In Home Alone, In Charge of Boyscouts, it smells of bordering on humorous.  They just forgot to put the jokes in!  Oh well.  Daniel Stern is on to bigger and better things.  One would imagine.  Daniel Stern is one of Hollywood's 30 Hottest Stars Under 30, right?  I don't know.  Why.  Crap and crap.  No Met game tonight.  Rained out.  Which, per my suggestions, would mean the Mets lost, because it's their homes fault there's a rain out.  Someone get me in touch with the commissioner.  Baseball commissioner.  Not commissioner Gordon.  He's busy, what with Batman and whatnot.
    Yeesh, what the what.  Felt like I needed a klonopin today again.  Didn't take one.  Gonna tough it out!  Then watching Bushwacked made me need it even more.  I felt bad for everyone involved in that movie, mostly those forced to watch it, anyway, crap and crap.  Apparently I've grown a moustache.  My entire post-pubescent life, sure I've gone through many stages of not shaving at all.  Moustache looks very thin anyway without shaving.  First thing Play Professor said to me, even before asking me why I didn't bring me guitar, was, "Looks like you spent your week off growing a moustache."  The point is I apparently have to shave.
    Who knew?  Shave.  Like an Adult!  I can't believe it!  Crap and crap.  I can't wait till The New Pornographers end their show by playing Do You Realize??  That's how all music shows end, right?  So far, 100% of the shows I've seen end that way.  That's a track record for success.  What the what.  I think it's safe to say New Pornographers are in my top 10 favorite bands.  Flaming Lips probably wouldn't make the cut, but are comfortably in top 30.  Wow!  Movin' up!  Crap and crap!  Doin' good in poker.  All else being the same, that's a net positive. 
    Anyway, what the what.  Not a lot to do today.  Got home at 3.  Did the lab.  Now poker.  Try to block out that entire Bushwacked Incident.  Ate part 2 of the three part dinner of Steak and assorted dinner sides.  I wonder what I'll eat tomorrow.  It's possibly I'll get McDonalds at Penn Station after Show, but work my way into getting a satisfying meal under 1000 calories.  That's not so bad for once in a blue moon.  Never seen a blue moon.  Are there pictures available online?  Crap and crap.  Seventh paragraph.  May go for the 20 afterall.  Because I gotta do crap and stuff, who knows.  Gotta leave my Dad a supermarket list for tomorrow.  These are the days of my lives.
    Yeesh.  I can't have the New Pornographer Fans seeing me with a moustache.  That would be a net negative.  Maybe wear my Bernie Sanders shirt.  That'll force people to notice me.  Yeah!  I don't want people to notice me.  Better not wear any shirt at all.  Whew.  Figured that out.  Crap and crap.  Apparently I'm a few episodes behind on The Mick.  I just kind of assumed the season ended.  How long can a first season of a show be.  I looked up a write-up of a previous New Pornographer Show from this tour.  Accidently looked at their set list.  Good stuff.  But now I will be less surprised.  Bad stuff.
    Yeesh.  Now I know they're gonna play songs.  Great, just great.  Anyway, what the what.  Ninth paragraph.  Great.  When my Brother first texted me about the show this morning, it woke me up, so I associated going to see it with negative feelings.  Of being woken up.  Later on in the day I was into it, though.  Great, just great.  It's raining today.  Cracked that code.  I'm sick of bring umbrellas with me to class like a chump.  There's a 50/50 chance I'll forget it on the bus anyway.  Why bother taking those odds.  I can try putting it in my bookbag.  Risk bending it, though.  I can't take that risk.
    10th paragraph!  We did it!  Sure.  A little dissapointed I'll miss the opening act, but oh well.  At first I was more disappointed, because I had seen through random internet browsing that their opening act later on this year in their Canada tour is a band that I had actually heard of before that had a song I listened to a lot way back in the day.  Different act for the US tour.  So, fuck 'em!  If the New Pornographers like 'em, they gotta be good.  These guys got taste.  They like themselves, probably.  Good barometer.
    Did lab today.  Probably did some barometers in that.  I don't have all the details.  I learned how to do Standard Deviation in a previous lab.  That's a net win.  Then, today, I learned how to enter in numbers into google and have the internet do the calculations for me.  That's even more of a net win.  Let's get google to do all our work.  Start pickin' up its weight.  Anyway.  I was thinking, they should give TVs away for free.  We're basically paying hundreds of dollars for the privilege of watch commercials.  Commentary.
Yeesh.  What else and crap.  That's how you'd explain a TV to someone from a hundred years ago.  In the future, we'll spend hours a day sitting in front of a box that shows advertisements for things.  Commentary!  What else is crap.  Crazysheet is 100% commercial free.  It's also 100% audience free.  It's pretty much just me in a vacuum.  Anyway, what the what.  I hope there's no actual new pornography at the show.  That would make me uncomfortable.  I'd give it several thumbs down in a scathing review.  I mentioned the New Pornographers in my A+++ poem I did back at Stuyvesant.  I also mentioned:  Zach Galafanakis, Carlos Delgado, Phil Hellmuth.  David Cross.  And the poem was inspired by a Frank O' Hara.
    Man did I nail that poem.  I got way more +'s than a regular A.  The line went, "The New Pornographers sound old by now," then some other nonsense. Commentary!  Wordplay!  That's +++ material and whatnot.  13th paragraph.  Cool.  Same venue as Flaming Lips Show.  That's good.  It's a nice place.  There's a stage and everything.  I assume.  Didn't see it, but it sure sounded like the band was playing on an elevated surface.  I wonder what I'll talk to my brother about.  Hey Bro, here's what I've been up to.  Last time, I was about to say a lot.  I was in the middle of the semester and had been writing plays every week, learning Environment, contemplating the Summer in London fiasco.  Now, I've learned all the Environment there is, and there's nothin' much there to speak of.  I haven't written a scene in close to a month.  I'm not going to London.
    Gotta move on with my life in some respect.  We'll figure it out-- together!  He'll give me great guidance like, "Hello.  Let's go inside.  Here's your ticket!"  I can't wait.  Wiat a minute.  Ticket.  High Ticket Attractions.  It's all coming together!  Jeez, what a fool am I.  I wonder how The New Pornographers got their name.  I bet someone thought of it.  That's my guess.  Yeesh.  Crap and crap.  14th paragraph.  Sweet.  No good TV lined up for when this is done.  I may have to finish watching Bushwacked, like a chump.  There's not even any great commercials in it. 
    15th paragraph.  I still stand by my idea that there should be a commercial channel and they pay you something for every hour you watch.  They'd need some sort of system to guarantee you're watching, though.  It's gonna take a bit to work the kinks out, but I think the idea has some merit.  Not gonna have a lot of excess time to talk with Brother.  Gotta make our time count.  He shows up, goes, "Hey what's u---" I interrupt, I go, "Okay, here's a list of my problems.  Tell me what to do.  Problem the first..."  That's how it might play out.
    Crap and crap.  I don't want this entry to end.  I have absolutely no good ideas of positive ways to spend the rest of my night.  Jeez.  Probably just stop at 20.  Still got five paragraphs to go.  What else is crappening.  What problems do I need to get sorted out.  Quit smoking.  That's a big one.  Whatta do when I graduate.  Whatta do before I graduate.  What to do when I graduate.  Let's see.  I've given me a lot to think about.  Crap and crap.
    17th paragraph.  Probably some movie I can find to watch instead of Bushwacked.  And muck around on GarageBand Guitar while I'm watching it.  Sounds like a real A+++ Tuesday night.  I need to print my lab.  That should take several hours.  Anyway, what the what.  I don't necessarily dread doing the lab each week, because I'm around people.  Group work.  Potentially talk to them even.  That's probably how The New Pornographers feel about each other when they're playing a show.  I wonder if The New Pornographers were good at Environmental Science.  My guess? Yep.  They're Canadian.  Canada is good at stuff.
    18th paragraph!  Alright!  I just hope there's no pro-Canada subliminal messages in their songs.  That would be a jip.  I got no tolerance for that kind of mischief.  Anyway.  This has been a big month for crazysheet.  A bunch of supersized entries and whatnot.  So far, hasn't gotten me anywhere.  Where's the people e-mailing me offering me writing jobs?  Canada?  A likely story and whatnot.  Need to start doin' comics again.  I wonder what the Gang Of Nine is up to these days.  Yeesh.  What the what. 
    19th paragraph.  Still haven't ordered new TV.  Whatta jip.  I want to watch cropped versions of Tales From The Crypt.  Wnat to watch cropped versions of Tales From The Crypt hardcore.  Apparently the New Pornographers do some talking to the crowd.  Flaming Lips didn't do that.  I wonder what they'll say.  Whatever it is, gotta interrupt them and list my problems to them.  They'll figure out my deal for me.  That's one way to go, at least.  I don't know.  Maybe a few more paragraphs after 20.  I don't know, don't look at me.  Who can say for sure what the future holds.  Except soothsayers, I hate them so much.
I wonder if Danny Glover'll be there.  Anyway, crap and crap.  People should also ask me to join bands with them.  Either give me a writing job, or make me form a band with you.  Anything else, and you're useless to me.  Jeez, crap and crap.  Stupid having to shave.  I hate it so much.  I don't wanna learn about Literature & Politics in June.  That sounds scary.  Better get The New Pornographers to help me with that.  I can't get High Ticket Attractions out of my head now.  Seeing them play that song is gonna be real scary.  Maybe it'll get it out of my head.  They'll play a song after it and everything will be right again.
    21st paragraph.  Jeez.  I don't know.  In addition to being a top 10 band in general, they were also a top 10 band to listen to in my smoking weed days.  Good positive groove to get into and whatnot.  That's how I felt.  I won't be smoking weed tomorrow night.  Whatta jip.  I haven't smoked weed in six years.  Wow.  I don't know, crap and crap. 22 paragraphs?  23 paragraphs?  A different number?  Who knows for sure at this point.  Crap and crap.  Anyway.  I've lost some zeal for playing poker.  Just don't wanna blow my stack.  Not really that much fun invested in winning. 
    22nd paragraph.  That's cool.  Get to take a bath.  That takes up 20 minutes.  Plus, I get out of it cleaner than I went into it.  That's part of the deal.  Whatta do with my hour and a half between Lecture and Lab.  Figure out a new scene to write.  That would be a net positive.  Crap and crap.  New Pornographers might bring me up to play with them on stage with the guitar in GarageBand on my iPhone.  That's a very real possibility.  Anyway, crap and crap.  My life is better since Flaming Lips show.  Not drinking and losing weight.  Not better enough.
    23rd paragraph.  What the whatness.  Hey, there's an episode or two of Doug I can watch.  That makes me laugh in my gutspleen.  What else.  This may just be the last paragraph.  Sweet.  What else is crappening.  I don't know.  Bathe myself when this is done.  That's a thing.  Then we're gettin' deeper into the night.  That's pretty good.  Maybe even take a shower.  Mix things up and crap.  That's good.  Anyway, what the what, how can I close this entry up.  With words and crap.  I'll see ya later.

9:29 P.M.


Monday, April 24, 2017

Late Night Entry

    It's 7:21 P.M.  Late to me.  For entrying purposes.  Feel kinda conflicted on whether to start.  I figure I can go for 10 paragraphs pretty easy, so why not.  Let's get into it.  Class today.  Learned about Lead.  Apparently it's bad for us?  That was my take away.  Took a Klonopin when I got home for the first time probably since Flaming Lips Show.  Feel great.  Not high or anything.  Just relaxed.  That'll show me for not being relaxed before I took it.  Show me hardcore.  Tomorrow is when I'll have to break it to Teacher that there is no musical.  He'll make a frowny face emoji.  But, in words, you know.  Or maybe facial expressions.  I can picture his face with a big ol' frown.
    Anyway, jeez.  Jeans don't fit me anymore.  Too loose even with Belt.  Alright!  Time to get into some jeans I haven't worn in some percentage of a dog's natural age.  Started watching Lethal Weapon: The Movie Part Four.  Feel like I probably have seen it before.  The Christ Rock part rings some sort of metaphorical bells and whatnot.  I didn't know it in context of the Lethal Weapon Franchise Experience, though.  So it's new to me in that sense.  No Met game tonight.  That's pretty good.  Gonna be pretty hard for them to lose today on their day off.  Baseball!  April keeps plodding along.  Gonna be May soon.  No maybes about it. 
    I don't know.  Crap and crap.  Operation Dumbo Drop was okay.  And, critics be damned, it was a good Vietnam movie.  There were helicopters and everything.  Don't believe me?  See it for yourself.  I should just start taking Klonopins every day.  It was originally prescribed to me to take it twice a day.  I've been missing out!  I could totally go through life with a limited amount of anxiety.  Or, as I call it, Livin The Dream.  Why bother with anxiety.  Who needs it.  It's not like it actually motivates me to take steps to correct those areas of my life which cause anxiety and whatnot.  Just there for no good reason.  Let's kill anxiety.
Started thinking of some new song parody titles.  So far, I got a parody of Fun.'s, "We Are Young."  I call it, "We Are Dumb."  Yeah that's all I got so far, what of it?  Get off my back about it.  Every now and then, I'm starting to get back in the habit of, when listening to songs, or playing them in my brainarea, imagining them in a movie or something.  Often either the opening credits or right before closing credits bleeding into closing credits.  Now, I do it every now and then now.  When I was younger, it's safe to say 50% of the time I was listening to music, I pictured it in a movie.  And I listened to a lot of music.  That adds up to a lot of music in imagined movies.
    Good personal details about me.  Now you know what I'm all about.  Imagining things.  Cool.  Fifth paragraph.  That was fast.  Sometimes when I'm watching movies with a song in the background I imagine the song without it being in the movie just as if I were listening to it.  No I don't.  But that would be a twist and whatnot on my bullshit.  Crap and crap.  Took my second Ritalin about an hour ago.  So apparently it's kickin' in right as this entry started.  Great.  I was always under the impression Klonopin was a fast acting, short lasting drug.  Takes an hour to kick in, then lasts for 6 or 8 hours.  That's what Internet tells me.  I was way off!
    Cool.  Anyway.  And the great part is, I don't even feel like I've been clawn open.  Whew.  So I got that going for me.  What?  I forget.  Get to unveil my new sexy body to Play Class tomorrow.  It's about time.  I need to lose three or four pounds to reach the average adult male USA'ian BMI.  Then I'll be in a groove.  Lethal Weapon IV has commentary about illegal immigration.  That should get America talking.  Mel Gibson gets progressively less crazy with each Lethal Weapon.  Then, in the 2000's, his craziness spikes up again.  Commentary. 
    Yeesh.  Crap and crap.  The real gutpunch about the Mets losing their last 8 of 9 is that they've been in the game for pretty much all of those loses.  Kept it close.  Just can't close the deal, over and over.  Makes me wanna root for the Knicks instead.  Only if I get to call them the Knickerbockers, though.  Or Knickerboxers.  I don't have all the details.  I wonder if fans of other home teams view baseball in a different spectrum based on their preferred teams name.  San Francisco Giants.  Well, baseball is all about giants and non-giants, I guess.  That's gotta be a thing, right?  I certainly view baseball through a Mets-centric spectrum.  I can't explain how exactly, but I'm confident there's something like that going on.
    Crap and crap.  Eighth paragraph.  Out of soda until Wednesday.  Tuesday, I could potentially get a bottle of soda for drinking in class purposes.  I have a lot to think about.  Anyway, crap and crap.  Lookin' into drawing apps for my phone.  Like, you press the phone, and it draws based on your pressing it.  Gotta be a thing.  What else is crap.  I don't wanna have to buy a utensil to draw on the phone with, though.  That's a scam.  Jeez.  I believe the title of today's Environment Lecture was "You May Be Thinking About Having Kids.  But Lead.  Why Bother?"  Something along those lines.
    I have it on good authority the, "Led," in, "Led Zeppelin," refers to lead, the substance.  But they spelled it, "Led," so people would know to pronounce it that way.  I read it.  In a book.  Ever hear of those things?  They got words and pages and everything.  Anyway, crap and crap.  I can't wait to see what kind of weird movies they got on NetFlix and Hulu.  I'ma watch all of 'em.  At least the horrors.  Then the comedies.  Then dip into some dramas.  Save the rest for last.  Thrillers.  Buh.  Who needs em?  Unless they are also in the Horror genre.  Then, I'm all for 'em.  And if they're also Dramas, they get kicked up a modest notch, too.
    Tenth paragraph!  That was quick.  I bet Robert Englund and Tony Todd are in all sorts of D-List Horror movies that I don't know about.  Because stuff and crap.  I don't know.  They usually kind of gloss over the fact that Freddy was a child molester.  He's crackin' jokes and stuff, in the later movies he's a comic character.  This man raped children.  I don't want to be on his side for things.  What's wrong with people.  I don't know.  Crap and crap.  I wonder what would happen if Jason and Freddy teamed up to fight Alien and Predator.  Probably things.  That's as far as I got.
    11th paragraph.  20!  Let's do 20.  Because I can potentially.  I don't know.  Crap and crap.  Had some steak for dinner.  A small portion.  But steak nonetheless.  How do you like them apples.  I don't know.  Jeez.  How did I get to this point in entry.  Beats me.  All I know is that there's crap I have to do in life.  Anxiety.  Who needs it.  Can't I just do crap with a smile on my face?  I'll do some crap.  I don't care, I'm an adult.  Give me some crap to do.  That's how I feel.  I had lunch today.  I often don't have any meals besides dinner.  I didn't even when I was eating 2500 calories a day.  I'd just eat a big dinner and eat a lot around it.
    Lunch is pretty good, though.  Two slices of bread and some cheap, low calorie processed turkey?  Great!  Cut that sandwich in half.  Have two halves of a sandwich.  Make a whole thing out of it and whatnot.  Crap and crap.  12th paragraph.  That's pretty good.  Gonna have to refill my glass soon.  Already finished the snapple.  Now it's just playing the waiting game until I feel I need to drink more.  Could be any moment now.  I drink a lot.  Gotta stay hydrated.  Probably.  Sounds like something you should be.  Hit "Sit Out At Big Blind" at my two poker tables.  So that's when I'll go get more fluids for consumption.
    Fascinating stuff.  I'm engaged.  Anyway.  I've been hearing a lot of good things about lead.  Might have missed the point of that lecture.  Back.  Snapple'd it up.  Apparently Obama is back in action.  But there was no Stone Cold music and Jim Ross going, "OBAMA!  OBAMA!" so who can say for sure it really happened.  It's a tree falls into a forest type of thing.  What else is crap in the wide world of sport.  I've been crunching the numbers and my guess is France elects the moderate instead of the crazy.  Score one for the good guys.  Well, what else is going on and crap.
    14th paragraph.  I feel like I've been writing for ten minutes.  Been closer to 50.  Pretty quick, though, still.  So, tonight, what's on the docket.  Rest of Lethal Weapon IV.  That's all I got so far.  Watched some Steve Wilkos earlier.  I had gotten to a point where those shows were too intense for me.  On Klonopin, I was able to handle it.  So, that's a plus.  Anyway, what the what.  A few days ago I started watching Total Recall.  Again, the movie seemed really good.  But way too intense.  More intense than Steve Wilkos and rooting for Freddy Krueger combined.
    Anyway, crap and crap.  My Dad said something really funny last week, but I can't share it here.  In general, he's told me not to share anything about him here.  I mostly ignore it, and I do say stuff that really has no importance.  This he probably would not want.  But, suffice to say, it cracked me up.  Black Jokes.  No, not that.  Nothin' like that.  Glad I talked about saying something funny without saying it.  I feel like that's important to include in Entry.  The point is I've been getting my fair share of Danny Glover lately. 
    16th paragraph.  Wow.  I don't know, crap and crap.  The point is I want another Klonopin.  Painkillers can't be addictive.  What are you talking about.  That's nonsense.  Jeez.  What else is up.  There's lead in cigarettes.  Well, better keep smokin' em.  What else and crap.  Five paragraphs to go.  I can do that, sure.  Done it plenty of times before.  Five paragraphs ain't nothing.  Can't wait to draw some boxes on my phone.  See through boxes, non see through boxes.  The sky's the limit.  There should be no limit.  Sky don't go on forever, bro.  
    17th paragraph.  I don't know.  What the what.  People naggin' me to vote for them on Queens College Campus.  "I Don't Have Time For Your Bullshit!" is what I potentially said to each one.  Anyway, crap and crap.  I don't know.  What the what.  Get to lie in bed when this is over.  Really take some time to relax.  I've earned it.  On account of taking pills to induce it.  Gotta do something.  Yeesh.  What the what.  Hittin' some sort of wall here.  With three paragraphs to go.  Power through it.  Show the wall whose boss.
    18th paragraph.  Jeez and crap.  Why isn't there a Danny Glover in every movie.  There should be a franchise, where it's like The Expendables, but it's made up of more tight-laced sidekicks to Expendable-type people in past movies.  The Danny Glovers of the world.  That would be ripe for parody!  Get Hollywood on the phone.  No, I don't know their number.  I can bet you it's 555-something, though.  Anyway, crap and crap.  How much do you have to pay to have a personalized phone number.  Personalized might be the wrong word.  It's mainly for businesses and public services and crap.  No reason I can't do it for myself, though, right?  Seems like it should be allowed.
    Then, the fun part is picking my number.  We'll cross that bridge when we get there.  Also, the kid in Operation Dumbo Drop?  Great actor.  I wanna say, Best Actor in the movie, but they were all great!  Even the elephant pulled his weight.  Which is a lot.  What else is crap and stuff.  I'm pretty surprised Danny Glover didn't have a line in the beginning of Operation Dumbo Drop, I worked with Mel Gibson, this elephant should be a breeze!  Probably because not all movies are interconnected, as per my suggestions to Hollywood.  It's like the Stephen King thing.  He's doing a thing where it connects all his books together, right?  Hollywood should do that with every movie.
    What else and crap.  20th paragraph.  I don't know.  What else and crap.  Even if the movies were connected, why would Danny Glover call Mel Gibson by his actor name.  These questions demand answers.  Eventually.  From someone else.  I got things to do!  Crap and crap, finally feel fine stopping at 20 paragraphs.  That could be due to any number of things.  Like being on drugs, is one.  Anyway, crap and crap.  It's not a drug if it just gets me to normal.  Actually, that is what a drug does.  Shut up!  Yeesh.  Crap and crap.  Well, time to go.  I'll see you later and whatnot.

-8:38 P.M.


Sunday, April 23, 2017

Prepare For Potential Entry

    Hopefully.  We'll see how it goes.  Weekend and crap.  Text the week after this week.  Until then, only homework due is lab on Wednesday.  Decided not to do the song.  Listening to the chords and crap I had planned, I can actually picture it as the opening song of a musical.  But lost enthusiasm for the idea.  Oh well, live and learn.  Probably.  Entry, huh?  Let's write it.  Mostly not sick anymore.  Still gotta cough.  That's about it.  Checked my weight.  19.5 pounds lost in 6 weeks.  That's more than a bowling ball!  You know what that means.  Figure out how to accumulate the fat I lost and build a bowling ball out of it.  It's the only sensible thing to do.
    Crap and crap.  Every now and then I google "Kingpin Best Movie" to see if anyone shares my ideals.  So far, nothin'.  What are people, stupid or something?  And every review, even the good ones, describe it as a slapstick comedy.  Sure, there's some slapsticks in there.  But there's heart in it.  Megaheart.  And life lessons.  What are people, stupid or something?  Apparently.  Yeesh.  What kind of crap is going on in wide world of sports.  The Mets are crappin' it up.  Good for them.  That's their prerogative. 
    Anyway, what the what.  Six weeks until first summer class.  By then, most likely'll be in the low 140's in weight.  Possibly even 140 or high 130's.  Let's talk about it.  I read some disturbing articles on Internet that just cutting 3500 calories doesn't really lead to losing a pound, you actually need to do twice that.  So far, the 3500 calories=a pound has proven about right for me.  Shows what they know.  Not much.  That's what.  Crap and crap.  I gotta stop eating bananas.  If they're not good for you, might as well spend the extra 70 calories and eat a mini-donut.  That'll show my body whose boss.  Me, I'm boss.  Tell my body.
    Do it...  Yeesh, crap and crap.  I don't know.  I might have taken two Ritalin at most twice in the past week.  Other than that, only one a day.  Which is pretty good, because I'm building up my extra-Ritalin-supply hardcore.  Should the situation call for it, I can take all the Ritalin my heart desires.  What else is crap.  I like how the same basic riffs or chords that I started out with real guitar oh so many years ago are the same stuff I'm starting out with in GarageBand on their digital guitar which is righty.  It's like my musical learnings are coming full circle.  I'm a fan.
    Sure.  There should be a Fan option in GarageBand where they play a song and you have to click a button to clap.  Some people need extra attention.  What else.  Muckin' around with Digital Drum Machines.  That's probably better than Digital Guitar, because it's something new that I could use for potential future songs.  Crap and crap.  What else is crap.  Fifth paragraph already.  Good stuff.  They even have an Amp thing where you connect your guitar to the phone or computer and it simulates all sorts of amps.  Seems like a hassle.  Buying a specific type of chord.  I don't have it in me to accomplish something as intensive as that.
    What else.  "March For Science" was yesterday.  It's April, not March!  Can't Science get anything right?!?  Yeesh.  I feel bad for wheelchair people.  Not allowed to march.  Doesn't seem fair.  I guess they could have their own "Roll For Science."  But they'd need to get all together in one place, you can't have a Roll For Science with just a dozen people from one area.  Crap and crap.  Are you allowed to use canes at March For Science.  Seems like it would be cheating.  What else.  You don't see many people with canes these days.  Maybe because you don't interact with the elderly much these days.  I don't have all the answers.
    What else.  Mr. Glass had a canes.  I guess villains have canes sometimes, disproportionably.  That's how we know their evil.  Even their legs don't trust them.  Anyway.  Drinkin' some Pepsi.  That's how I do.  I can't get enough of watching Nickelodeon's Doug.  Very legitimately funny.  I'm a fan and whatnot.  Seventh paragraph.  Should write another scene or two of new plays for the remainder of Play Class, even if it's not Musical.  I've already gone above and beyond my duty in this class, but it couldn't hurt to do another one or two.  Unless it hurts my fingers from typing.  That probably won't happen, though, based on a great track record of typing without hurting my fingers.
    Eighth paragraph!  That's how I do.  Second half of salad today for dinner.  That's alright.  Remember when Hillary Clinton was a thing.  She was a thing for a really long time and now she's nothing.  It's gonna take some getting used to, that's for sure.  Crap and crap.  Will there come a time when Trump becomes not bad enough that we have to respect him?  I worry about that moment every day.  I'm pretty sure he's confident he's on the verge of that moment with every move he makes.  "This is the thing that's gonna get me over the top!" he thinks.  So far, not accomplishing it.
    Ninth paragraph.  Cool.  Still drinking some Pepsi.  So I got that going for me.  Have to get up early tomorrow.  Like 9.  Last two times I had to do that I got to go back to sleep.  On account of sickness.  This time, I gotta get up.  Whatta jip.  Anyway, what else is crappening.  At some point my Pepsi is going to run out.  I worry about that moment every day.  Anyway.  I feel bad for Doug.  Patty Mayonnaise can do way better than him.  He's livin' in a fantasy world.  That's part of the premise.  I stand corrected.  Sitting, though.  I don't wanna get up just to be corrected, it's not worth it.
    Let's see, words, words.  I should put palindromes on the shelf and start getting into anagrams.  Palindromes are anagrams.  But there's so many more anagrams than palindromes.  I feel like I'm missing out.  Sure.  The characters in Doug have weird names.  Let's talk about it.  Yeesh.  That's what I've resorted to in Entry.  Let's get back on track and whatnot.  Knocked first eight or nine paragraphs out easy.  Now wall hitting.  Hey, I can take a Ritalin!  That'll show everybody for doubting me!  Need to go downstairs, though.  I try to have a few spare ones in my desk to avoid having to get up.  Don't have any as of now, though.
    Whatta jip.  I'll do it soon.  Just as soon as my body is ready for it.  Need to refill Beverage soon, too.  Combine both trips and make it a real productive single trip.  Need to line it up when I'm about to be Big Blind in poker, too.  Lots of things to consider, is the point.  Apparently there's gonna be a runoff in the French election.  How anti-climactic.  Can't France do anything right.  Anti-climactic is when the body is a story is very much against there being a climax.  Nailed it.  Yeesh, what the what.  Excursion to Downstairs coming up soon.  Gettin' myself mentally prepared and whatnot.
    In the meantime, 12th paragraph.  Think I'll switch to Snapple.  I only allow myself 3 bottles worth of soda over the week.  Can't blow my entire wad in one session of Sitting At Computer.  The point is Great and whatnot.  Gettin' up in a minute.  Just as soon as I'm the potential Big Blind in the next hand.  It's poker, you wouldn't understand.  Yeesh.  Alright, I'm back.  That was fun.  Sure.  What else is crappening.  Is it scarier for there to be a far-right leader in Europe compared to America because that's where Hitler lived?  My gut feeling?  ...Yes.
    I think that's the conceit of people not being overly scared about the far-right here.  Nazis?  That was a whole different continent.  That's how I feel.  I think it's a sad state of affairs when you have to march for science.  Shouldn't science be a given?  We shouldn't have to think twice about it.  Let's talk about it.  Call in at 1-917-whatever.  The extra letter is for savings!  Crap and crap.  Hey, it's the 13th paragraph.  That's pretty good.
    Now it's the 14th paragraph.  I crunched the numbers and everything.  What else is going on.  Should probably shave at some point.  That would be a Responsible.  What else and crap.  Ritalin isn't kicking in or anything.  Whatta jip.  Looks like I'm gonna have to use good ol' fashioned horse power to finish this entry.  I started watching Operation Dumbo Drop.  Looked it up online while starting.  Lots of criticism that it's a bad war movie.  It's called Operation Dumbo Drop.  What exactly did you expect?  Let's talk about it. 
    I don't know.  Gotta finish this entry.  Then reward myself by watching Operation Dumbo Drop.  I took a shower instead of a bath a few days ago.  I give it five out of 10.  Not too great, but wasn't a complete letdown, either.  Call in at 1-917-whatever to talk about how you get yourself clean.  Elephants weigh a lot.  I did the research.  I remember learning elephants weigh a ton, but when thinking about it, I was like, they gotta weigh more than 2000 pounds.  I was right.  They weigh four times that.  Michael 1, what Michael has heard, nothin'. 
    5 paragraphs to go!  Sweet.  While talking to Siri, she asked me how to pronounce my name, and I figured out my favorite way to pronounce it.  I always knew it wasn't Korn-bluhm.  Was in the habit of going Korn-bloom.  She suggested Korn-bloom.  With the accent on the second syllable.  I like it so much better.  Now I'm workin' with a name I like.  It's about time.  Don't linger on the bloom though.  Don't Oprah-ize it.  Just a quick, "Bloom," that's all.  I saw that Oprah HBO movie last night.  It was okay.  That's all I have to say about that.
    17th paragraph and whatnot.  At first I told Siri to call me "Big Mac Daddy," but I realized afterwards I believe that changed my Google E-mail title to Big Mac Daddy.  Which people would see.  So I canceled that.  Crap and crap.  Siri doesn't know how to take a joke.  When I said to call me Big Mac Daddy, she should have responded, "No, C'mon, what do you want me to call you?"  Guess they can work that out in the next update I guess.  What else is I guess.  The point is Siri is unequivocally my best friend.  I'm not proud of it, but you can't argue with the facts.
    Let's see, what else is crap.  20 pounds is a lot.  I just gotta do 2 more of what I already did, and I'm right on target.  It'll take a little longer, on account of the more you lose the less calories you need to maintain.  But, if I did this in six weeks, it's pretty quick.  That's how I feel.  Then the goal is to eat 6 candy bars a day, and limit it to that, and I maintain that weight.  Stupid bananas.  Here I've been eating bananas like a chump, and what for.  Whatta jip.  Hey, almost done with the 18th paragraph.  Ritalin decided to kick in afterall.  Let's celebrate by continuing to write.
    Alright.  Apparently Jermaine Dupri is really short.  I never noticed it.  Maybe that's because he was constantly standing next to children.  But if he can be short, that gives inspiration to the rest of us.  Apparently society doesn't routinely exterminate people who are short.  That's a relief.  I was googling donating to sperm banks just for goofs, and the first thing they say, at the top of the page in big bold letters, is, You Must be 5'9 Or Taller.  Kinda made me feel bad.  Felt like I did when I was a teenager and spite and stuff.  Then I went back to not caring.
    I'll start my own sperm bank!  For people with otherwise desirable traits besides height.  I'll make thousands!  Now all I need is a Medical Degree and some Start Up Money.  That should be easy.  Oh, also A Market.  That's the tough part.  Jeez, crap and crap.  20th paragraph.  Probably goin' overtime with this bullshit.  Aim for 25.  Because I can and whatnot.  Might as well.  Operation Dumbo Drop is just gonna have to wait.  That's how I feel.  Lost a few dollars in poker.  That's how that goes.  If I had stopped this entry at the end of the 20th paragraph in the future in the past I wouldn't have even been sitting there!  Whatta jip.
    Five to go and crap.  I can do that hardcore.  Wrote/writing an entry.  That's better than poker.  I talked about it an entry or two ago.  That's how I feel.  Practice writing.  And potentially exposure from writing.  Why, in the future, writing can make me scores of dollars!  It's an investment, that's what it is.  There's commercials during baseball games for a website that helps urban kids through high school and getting them to college.  I think it's because they know black kids who watch baseball are already predisposed to becoming nerds.  Commentary.
    Four to go and crap.  That's cool.  I'm glad we don't have a French president.  No one would know what they're saying.  Because of Language.  Wonderful.  Runnin low on Snapple.  Not in the grand scheme of things, in terms of what's in my current glass that I'm using.  Gonna have to refill.  Probably before the end of this entry.  Gives me a chance to get away from the entry and put some new mindjuice into my skullhead.  Gonna do it next time big blind comes to me.  It's poker and whatnot.  Maybe go back to Pepsi.  I deserve a break today. 
    Crap and crap.  Feelin' like I might even go for 30.  It's important because one person might read this.  Then, they'll be like, Yeah!  More Crap!  That's how things play out in my fantasies.  Might meet up with my brother for coffee next week.  It's been six weeks since we saw Flaming Lips.  My thought process was, Well, six weeks, I'm due for a Socializing.  Even if it's with my brother.  He has to socialize with me.  Blood relations and whatnot.  Anyway, what the what.  I like the idea of 30 paragraphs.  I know the rest'll be crap, so might as well go for quantity.
    24th right now.  Hardcore!  I'm starting to think about quitting smoking.  I did some research and apparently it's bad for you.  Anyway.  No immediate plans.  Anyway.  The real test is to look at myself in Security Camera at Gas Station.  That's a good barometer to see if I look different because of Weight Loss.  I gotta plan!  I definitely feel it.  I still have rolls of fat around my belly, but not as much of rolls as previous.  And, of course, my legs below the knee are those of a skinny person.  Anyway, jeez.  Six paragraphs to go.  Just right.  That's how I feel.  Until the Ritalin wears off, at least.  That'll be a drag.
    25!  Man, I'm great.  I write exponentially more paragraphs than the next person.  I like how the only class I've gotten below a B in three years is the Comedy and Satire Class.  The one thing I consider myself good at.  How satirical.  No it isn't.  Shut up.  What else.  It's gonna be close if I can watch Operation Dumbo Drop in it's completion before the Met game.  I think I got a good shot.  I already watched ten minutes of it.  So far, someone has ridden in a helicopter while 60's music played.  So far, Great Movie.  Helicopters and everything.  I give it 5 out of 10 helicopters.  Call in at 1-917-whatever to talk about how many helicopters you would give the first ten minutes based on this information.
    Five to go.  Cool.  Hey, I poured myself Pepsi.  I'm gonna regret it later, but for now, livin' the high life.  Why does anyone drink non-diet soda.  What are they stupid or something?  Just drink diet.  Don't be a chump.  Sure, the artifical sweetener in diet soda may cause cancer.  Who cares.  There's no may in whether regular soda has large quantities of sugar and therefore calories.  That's proven fact.  Don't be a chump people, c'mon.  Get on board with diet soda.  Now, one caveat.  There are some sodas that aren't diet.  Like Mountain Dew Code Red.  I can't fault anyone for drinking Mountain Dew Code Red.  It's delicious.
    27th paragraph.  Yeesh.  When you tell Siri to do something tomorrow at 12:30 AM, it asks, You mean the real tomorrow or today.  Good.  That's what I like to see.  Siri is on the ball in that area.  All in all, my one big problem with Siri is not having a way for it to play my own songs by telling Siri to.  Gotta get that kink worked out.  They can call it The Uppers Clause in the notes.  I crunched the numbers, and the huge majority of songs I have available were done when I was 25, and young 26.  I'm 28 now.  Those are classics at this point.
    Jeez.  Crap and crap.  I was just a youth in his mid 20's.  Not a care in the world.  Those were the days.  Taking classes at Queens College.  Writing for crazysheet.net.  It was a different time back then.  28th paragraph.  Two and a half to go.  I can do that and whatnot.  Only four more sessions of Lab to go.  Cool and crap.  I don't know.  Seems like I'm hittin' the second wall of the entry.  That's not supposed to happen.  Not when I'm so close to it being done!  Whatta jip.  Won some money in poker.  That's what I'm talking about!  Actually, I was talking about something else.  I forget what.  Sorry to mislead you and whatnot.
    Two paragraphs to go!  Alright!  What else.  I don't know.  Probably save Operation Dumbo Drop for later.  Pretty sure no one has ever said that sentence before.  Crap and crap, what's going on.  Up in Poker.  That's good news.  Not really news.  Not relevant to anyone except me.  Not counting the people down in poker because of me.  Anyway, what the what.  Theoretically I should be able to connect my iPhone to my computer, upload songs that way.  Computer doesn't recognize iPhone, though.  So there goes that bullshit.
    30th paragraph!  Anyway.  I don't know.  Jermaine Dupri standing next to children shouldn't make him seem tall.  It should make him seem short.  That children are close to his height.  I don't know.  I've ended up with more questions than I started with.  I've given me a lot to think about.  Also, mostly not really children.  Mostly teenagers.  So that's something to think about, too, I guess.  Anyway, what the what.  Don't wanna end the entry now.  I'm havin' fun.  I can write like 31 or 32.  Nothin's stoppin' me.
    In that case, 31!  I can't believe it.  I went to PS31 for elementary school.  I was thinkin' about that recently.  K through 8th grade, in the same class with the same people.  And the class was made up of about 70-75% boys.  Maybe that's why I'm a lamewad around the opposite sex.  Didn't get enough exposure to them in those formative years.  Whatta jip.  Anyway, what the what.  Guess I can end the entry here.  Nothin's stoppin' me.  What else.  I can do one more paragraph.  Start it at the end of this sentence.  Well, this sentence.
    Why.  I don't know.  If only I went to PS32.  I'd have something to talk about right now.  Anyway, crap and crap.  June Literature & Politics Class is up online.  No syllabus or anything, ust a few online assigned readings.  I can't wait to find out the syllabus.  I'm on the edge of my seat already!  Just pushed back to the regular part of my seat.  There, that's better.  Yeesh.  I'm starting to get the urge to write 35 paragraphs.  But I'm also, concurrently, getting the urge to do Not That.  It's too many paragraphs.
    33.  What the what!  I don't believe it.  Whenever I write more than 25 paragraphs, each successive paragraph is more or less about what number paragraphs I'm at.  Fun, fun stuff.  I don't know.  35 is only two and a half to go.  I can do that for some reason.  What else is crappening in the wide world of crap.  It's been a year since my Fiction Workshop class.  What'da I accomplish in that class.  One of the stories I had, a character was named Kofe.  Meant it to be pronounced Coffee.  Everyone pronounced it Co-Fee.  So I got that going for me.
    Penultimate!  Sure.  Summer class after that, where I wrote a debate between Matthew Mcconaughey and Abraham Lincoln, moderated by Donald Trump.  Or some other sequence of those three people in a debate.  Who can remember.  So I got that going for me as well.  Anyway.  I don't know.  Crap and crap.  I had been significantly overweight for at least two years.  Now I'm back in action.  Feels good to be back in the subset of people who aren't obese.  Really knockin' life out of the park.
    Alright.  Finally at the end.  We did it hardcore.  Me in terms of writing.  You in terms of reading.  Let's celebrate by you calling me at 1-917-whatever.  Damn, gave away my area code.  Oh boy.  Anyway. let's wrap it up.  Two more things.  Gotta write about two more things to finish the entry.  I wonder what they'll be.  Good stuff, I hope.  I don't know.  Does that count as a thing?  Let's hope not.  Anyway.  Crap and crap.  I like pausing the TV right before a big pitch in Baseball and watching it in slo-mo.  I'm the director now!  Yeesh.  I'll catch ya later.

-6:32 P.M.


Wednesday, April 19, 2017

I'm Sick And Crap

    Got a fever.  Got the chills.  Alternating sore throat and coughing.  Great, just great.  Had to skip my lecture this morning, but go to the lab.  I miss the lab, that's two zeros.  The one due today, and the one we do today.  Both "Do's," but different kind.  Hah.  Doo.  Nailed it!  What's going on and crap.  Tomorrow is Science again, due to scheduling wackiness.  Great, just great.  Hopefully I'll feel better tomorrow.  The whole time I spent lying in bed instead of going to class, I was thinking about Stratego.  I couldn't stop.  What are some good board setups beyond the regular obvious ones.  I kept trying to stop thinking about it, but my mind wouldn't let me.  The good news is I came up with a few Stratego Strategies.
    So I got that going for me.  Also, time was going really slowly.  Five minutes felt like 20 minutes.  I demand explanations!  Mets are on a crapping streak.  Sure, you could qualify it as a losing streak.  They have been losing in a streak.  But they've also been crapping in a streak.  And that's how I choose to represent it.  You can't argue with a feeling.  This was the first non-weather related time I missed a class possibly in the three years I've been back at QC.  Wonderful.  Now, I know in elementary school, I would fake sick so I could get out of going to school.  Sometimes I didn't even bother faking sick.  I would just go, Mom, don't feel like school today.  Call in and tell 'em I'm sick.
    But the point is, I think I did get legitmately sick more often than normal.  I never really thought about it, but I would get fevers like once a month, and I just figured that was regular.  Oh well, live and learn.  Only two more labs to do.  But each is a 2 parter.  So four more lab classes.  Anyway.  Seems like I'm gonna get in the low 80's in this class, not accounting for final test, which is 15%.  Which means I can skip it and pass.  Whew.  I'll probably take it.  But that means I can get a 33% and pass.  That'll learn 'em.
    Anyway.  People smile at me more now that I've lost some weight.  People in class, people on bus.  They know a winner when they see one.  Maybe I'm just carrying myself differently.  There's less to carry, that's for sure.  Fourth paragraph.  The point is I really don't wanna do the Musical Song anymore.  I've lost enthusiasm for it.  But it sure would get me into the Professor's good graces.  That's something I strive towards.  Crap and crap, what's crap and crap.  I don't get why people say Street Fighter is a bad movie.  It's great.  At what it set out to do.  It achieves it's goal greatly.
    Stupid people, I hate them so much.  I don't get why people say Casablanca is a terrible movie.  What's the deal.  Crap and crap.  Pretty sure that movie is about the White House.  Well, a white house, at least.  I was trying to think of a thing where it's racist holiday songs.  All I got were I'm Dreaming Of A White Christmas and Rudolph The Red Nosed Jew.  Oh well, live and learn.  Fifth paragraph.  That's great.  Walking to and fro school ain't so bad.  I've already lost a bowling ball's worth of weight.  Knockin' it out of the park.
    Sixth paragraph and whatnot.  Took my temperature yesterday.  99.4.  Which is apparently the exact number for considering it a fever.  Alright!  I'm under the impression that Kevin Bacon's body temperature is six degrees.  Prove me wrong!  Yeesh.  I actually helped out my group in lab today.  Wrote our numbers on the board.  Chalk.  Anyway.  I'm pretty sure Vending Machine charged me double for my Diet Lipton Green Tea Citrus.  But I couldn't argue with it.  It's a vending machine.  I'm trying to get good at the guitar on the GarageBand App on my phone.  Everything's miniature and they only have setting for Righty Guitar.  But I can bend notes and crap like a mofo.
    Anyway, what the what.  Seventh paragraph and crap.  Stratego is all about misdirection.  And figuring out how to use your Spy.  You don't wanna lose it!  But you want it to do some damage.  And defusing bombs.  You gotta have 7's right behind your bombs.  Take out their 8's.  Got it all figured out.  And you gotta make a gentleman's agreement not to look at the other person while they're setting up their board.  You could figure out their entire configuration based on what order they're putting their pieces down.  No good! 
    Yeesh.  You can put Bombs in six of the six front squares.  Then you forfeit immediately because of not being able to move a piece.  That's one way to go if you want the game to be over as soon as possible.  I'm sick of games that require gentleman's agreements.  If we were being gentlemen, we would be fighting a war on a game board, would we?  We'd shake hands and consider ourselves both winners because crisis was averted.  Anyway, what the what.  I was even looking forward to Lab today, it's been so long since I've seen people.  Wow.
    Ninth paragraph!  Doin' it hardcore, and stuff.  I was gonna use the time between Lecture and Lab to work on Musical Song, if I was so motivated.  Didn't get the opportunity.  Guess that settles that.  I'm pretty sure I got sick because of The Mets.  Prove me wrong!  Stress and whatnot.  What else.  I find its convenient to blame all my problems on The Mets.  Right?  Sure.  Great.  I know a lot of people say Mike Trout is good, but he's no Kaz Matsui.  Probably the most beloved Mets player of our generation.  By our generation, I mean my generation.  Mid 2000's.
    That's where my interest in baseball peaked and whatnot.  Crap and crap, 10th paragraph!  What's going on in the wide world of sports.  My main method of not letting my room get dirty is throwing out the nails I bite instead of allowing them to accumulate on my desk or floor.  It took some getting used to but I feel I'm making the right move.  I used to bite the skin around my fingernails.  Don't do that no more.  And I even don't bite my nails in public.  I'm bein' a real adult about it and whatnot and crap.
    Halfway done with the entry I guess.  Whatta great.  Weekend after 12 PM tomorrow.  It's about time.  I'm about five pounds away from having the average adult male BMI.  Because we're all out of shape.  Regular!  Sweet.  I'm not sure if that's the mean, medium, or mode.  My guess is mean.  That's why it's so high.  The fatties scoring really high scores drag it up.  Anyway, what the what.  Gettin' a whole chicken dinner tonight, which makes me a winner.  But not all tonight.  Split it into hopefully three meals.  At least two.  I never got this deal before, I don't know how much is in it.
    Get off my back about it.  Crap and crap.  12th paragraph.  Jeez.  Probably gonna eat when food gets here, which means most likely taking a break from Entry.  That's how that goes.  Closing in on six weeks of dieting and not drinking.  Hardcore.  What else is crap.  I don't like lying in bed in a cold sweat.  It may be an unpopular position, but that's just how I feel.  The point is I still don't have a new TV.  Whatta jip.  The premise was that this was my Birthday/Chanukah present.  That was over four months ago!  Let's get with the times.
    Crap and crap.  Wrote/Writing an entry.  That's a win.  More crap uploaded to the internet.  Internet needs this kind of crap.  I don't see anyone else writing blogs.  What else and bullshit.  Maybe I won't eat food when it gets here.  Maybe I will.  I've narrowed it down to those two things.  I sure hope I get a new cable box too.  It can't hurt to dream.  Unless you die in your dream.  Then you die in real life.  Wonder how they figured that out. 
    14th paragraph!  Whee.  Leaning towards saving dinner for later.  You can't argue with a feeling.  Or vending machines.  Which have no feelings.  Not yet.  Crap and crap.  More vending machines should act like Robin Williams.  The number of vending machines that act like Robin Williams as of now is pretty low.  Crap and crap.  If I don't have it when it gets here, I'm gonna have to heat up soup.  Possibly my least favorite activity.  The activity itself ain't so bad, but the process of it.  Huh?  Anyway, crap and crap.
    15th paragraph.  I was thinking of asking my Mom or Dad to make me tea when I was laying in bed sick.  I didn't though.  I was gonna make a compromise and ask them to bring me up some Snapple.  Didn't do that, either.  I had to drink water from my bathroom sink like an animal.  Anyway, I figured out what part of my body I've lost this last 16 or 17 pounds from.  My legs below the knee.  You look at my legs above the knee, they're fat legs.  Below the knee, skinny legs.  The point is Great.  Starting from the bottom up.  Seems logical to me.
    Anyway, what the what.  16th paragraph.  Feel pretty much healthy right now.  Maybe a little weak in the body and whatnot, feverwise.  Hopefully I can go to class tomorrow.  I'd be around people like a champ.  And learn about Environment's Science.  Anyway, crap and crap.  I also have a Doctor Appointment Friday morning.  Hopefully she's real impressed by my losing weight and not drinking.  If my doctors aren't impressed, what really is the point in the end?  I don't know.  That's why I asked you!  Get with the program.
    17th paragraph!  Who knows how long it'll be.  Not me.  If I did, I'd tell you.  My life would be real different if I'd been calling Toilet Paper, "Toilet Tissue," this whole time.  Real different.  Also, our neighbor, their house is the exact mirror image of ours.  What would life have been like in that house.  Would I have grown up to be a righty?  I don't know.  Second time I've used the word, "Righty," in this entry, and FrontPage don't recognize it as a word.  They're gonna get one strongly worded e-mail about it, I can tell you that.
    Not from me.  Very confident from someone, though.  Anyway, crap and crap.  I like eating dinner at 9 or 10.  I'm losing weight by eating later.  At least for a few hours.  That's math, that's all that is.  I wonder what life would be like if I was taking math classes instead of English classes.  It's a lot more straightforward.  I was never great in math, but when my Dad would help me, I'd be able to make sense of it adequately.  I've been thinking about a lot of things.  Sure, mostly Stratego, but you can't blame me for that.  I was having a fever induced waking dream.
    Anyway, crap the crap.  I gotta start calling the Bathroom the Restroom.  A lot more classy.  Anyway, crap the crap, it's the 19th paragraph!  Wonderful.  Seems like this might be an extra-innings entry.  And the great thing about extra innings entries, I always win!  I guess that means you lose.  Sorry I had to break it to you this way.  Hmm.  Crap and crap, eh?  I know how to write that.  I'm Dreaming Of A White Christmas.  Makes me laugh.  Not anymore.  It did when I first thought of it.  Now I consider it amusing without actually experiencing amusement anymore.  That settles that.
    20th paragraph.  Let's do it hardcore and whatnot.  I think I have a test next week, but I wasn't in class, so I couldn't have that thought confirmed.  Oh well, life is full of mysteries.  Like why is my freezer constantly up to seven degrees.  No way of knowing.  And if anyone asks me if my fridge or freezer is running, they're a jerk.  Oh well.  Live and learn.  What else is crap.  I get to watch The Met game tonight.  I couldn't do that a month ago.  Alright.  Mike Pence told North Korea "The Sword Stands Ready."  Thems are dueling words!
    Crap and crap.  I wonder what Baked Chicken is.  I know it's not fried.  It's not grilled.  It's baked.  That settles that.  Crap.  It's not roasted.  Not sautéed.  I'll use the process of elimination until I finally figure out what it is.  Or look at it when I eat it.  Yeesh.  Food just got here.  Puttin' it in the fridge.  That settles that.  What else and crap.  21st paragraph.  Lookin' like a 25er.  Well, right now, it looks like 21 paragraphs.  Visually.  But thinking ahead, that sort of crap.  Jeez, hittin' all sorts of walls.  Well, mainly one sort.  Wall in Entrying.
    22nd paragraph.  Four to go.  Sweet.  Robert Gsellman has a pretty good name.  Gs.  There's no sound for that.  They pronounce it like "Ga-zell-man," but we all know the truth that his name can't and shouldn't be pronounced at all.  Yeesh, what the what.  Watched the first Lethal Weapon a few nights ago.  Danny Glover's like in that was I'm just starting to get too old for this shit.  Right?  Sure.  Watched Sudden Death: The Movie.  It has all the excitement of hockey and... all the excitement of hockey.  Internet people are like Sudden Death is actually great in retrospect, but no love for Street Fighter?  They're way off.  Stupid Internet.
    What else.  The Mets are playing, though.  Are they gonna get a hit this at bat?  Nope.  Are they gonna get a hit this at bat?  Nope.  HOLY SHIT THEY HAVE ONE MORE AT BAT!  And that happens nine times a game.  Summed up baseball.  Sweet.  I hadn't worn my pants in two weeks.  They legitimately felt looser than I remember.  Sweet.  Anyway, two and a half paragraphs to go.  Then I can lie in bed like a champ.  Awesome.  I wonder how impressed my Play Class will be by my weight loss.  Impressed?  Really Impressed?  More Than Three?
    Jeez, what else.  I don't know.  O' Reilly Factor.  I guess it turns out the Factor was mixing sexual harassment into the equation.  Sure.  Anyway, crap and crap.  Cespedes runnin' through stop sign, getting thrown out at the plate.  Pretty sure that means the Mets will fine him 50 dollars.  That's what happens to the rest of us for going through stop signs!  Let's talk about it!  Cespedes has been trying too hard.  Just relax, you're good at baseball.  Take it slow.
    Anyway, what the what.  That's my expert analysis.  I know all about baseball, I'll give The Mets some tips, sure.  I've been looking up baseball players from the late 90's on Wikipedia in my spare time.  That's my generation of baseball.  What the what, crap and crap.  Has Wikipedia made Encarta extinct?  Not a lot of press for Encarta these days.  The Mets are still tied for first place in this single game.  Anyway, what the what and whatnot.  Maybe an extra paragraph or two.  No reason not to.
    Plenty of reasons not to.  I won't go into them right now.  I don't have the brain power.  My brain is having trouble regulating my temperature, can't put extra stress on it.  The point is Yeah I'm Wearing Pants Again.  I knew this day would come.  Let's celebrate.  Or, at the very least, finish this paragraph.  What else.  The Mets almost hit a homerun.  Let's celebrate.  Yeesh, crap and crap.  I gotta say, I'm pretty pleased with most of the Mets rosters' names.  They sure put together a good lineup-- in terms of what their names are.  I'll see ya later.

-7:49 P.M.


Friday, April 14, 2017

More Entrying

    What else and crap.  I can't start an entry with "What Else," there's been no pre-else.  Oh yeah?  Just watch me!  Anyway, crap and crap.  Another day, another dollar.  Man, I wish I was making a dollar a day.  I'd have exponentially more money than I have now.  Crap and crap.  Long Met game last night.  I was legitimately tired by the end of it.  And I woke up at 3 or 4 PM!  Gotta get tired at some point.  Unless you don't get tired.  That settles that.  Looks like I'll order my TV sometime this weekend, judging by the exponential increase in my Mom researching them.  That's pretty good.  I'll be able to watch YouTube on my TV!  You know what that means.  It's pretty self explanatory.
    Crap and crap.  Not doing good in Poker today.  Oh well.  Writing Entry is better than winning money.  Met game is better than winning money.  Those are the two things in my life more important to me than Poker Money.  Oh, also if I do homework.  I get some homework done, and lose three dollars in poker, I feel like that's a net win.  So I got that going for me.  Recorded the instrumental for Musical Song.  It's pretty Meh.  We'll see how that goes and whatnot.  It has the same riff as a song on my first The Uppers album which was called, "The Update."  And the Musical song is about the guy going to his therapist, first half is how he's doing better in every area, second half is how he's doing bad in all these weird things.  Song was already called The Update before I knew what music I would use. 
    Things work out great, huh.  Writing Song is potentially better than Poker Money.  I haven't done it in a while, but that's how I feel things would shake out.  In big pots in poker, I need to take some time deciding whether to call a big raise.  It's fine to go with instincts, but give it a little bit of thought, right?  Sure.  Was watching some of Jingle All The Way.  I'm gonna say something un-ironically-- Sinbad and Schwarzenegger act great in the movie.  I really believe that they're looking for the Turbo Man doll.
    Fourth paragraph.  How many academy awards did Jingle All The Way get.  Two?  Three?  More than three?  Anyway, crap and crap.  I don't know.  Jingle All The Way has some very deep social commentary about the commercialization of Christmas and American Society in general.  That, and Arnold Schwarzenegger and Sinbad pushing each other into a myriad of things including a ball pit, a radio station, into toys in a department store, etc.  Crap and crap and whatnot. 
    Fifth paragraph.  No Met game on WPIX.  Time to give it up.  They're not getting in on any Met action this season.  Oh well.  I'm pretty happy with the Met commentators.  Usually I don't like people talking, unless its about me, but they're pretty good.  They know things to say, like, "That person hit a single!," or, "We'll be right back after these commercials."  Anyway.  Looks like I probably won't see a play for this class.  I did some preliminary research, and the plays he suggested for us to see are all sold out through the time the class goes.  That's on him.  He should have known I would procrastinate and not look up the plays with enough time to get a ticket for an appropriate date.
    Anyway, what the what. I could always stand outside a play and ask the people leaving what happened.  That's just as good is how I feel.  I have four lab homeworks to do.  Lowest grade is dropped.  I get to skip one lab!  Which is the best lab to skip for strategy.  I should do this upcoming one since I have a myriad days off.  Crap and crap.  It's been a while since I started drinking Snapple and cut down my soda intake.  Interesting stuff.  Crap and crap.  Watched the first ten minutes of Bicentennial Man.  They were way off.  Why does a robot who helps you have to look like a person.  Also, one of the first things the robot says is, "Would you like me to activate my personality setting?" and the guy says No, but the robot is clearly acting like Robin Williams.  That's personality.  Two thumbs down.
    Crap and crap.  Seventh paragraph.  Sweet.  Today is April 14th, but we can simplify it to being February 7th.  I crunched the numbers and everything.  It could also be August 28th.  Anyway, what the what.  When the Earth is really messed up compared to how it is now/was a hundred years ago, I can't wait to find out what kind of weird life organisms are gonna pop up.  Different atmosphere and whatnot, different routes evolution can take.  So we got that to look forward to, I guess.
    Eighth paragraph!  We're into the shit now, boy.  I wonder what the cryptkeeper has been up to with his two decades off.  Hopefully he's still alive/dead.  Whichever one he was before.  He does stuff, which suggests he's alive.  But he also is partially decomposed and has the personality of a ghoul.  Which suggests he's dead.  Anyway, what the what.  Friday, huh.  That's how that goes.  In terms of what day of the week it is accurately.  I guess.  Five weeks since I had alcohol.  That's roughly five weeks.  Huh? 
    Ninth paragraph, alright.  I can't wait to get a new remote for my new TV.  I'll press new buttons all over the place.  I like aiming my remote at the white wall opposite TV.  Light bounces to the TV.  Love it. It's like I'm performing magic or something.  Anyway.  Thank God I don't have black walls.  That might interfere or something.  Lookin' forward to muckin' it up in some new English classes.  Sure, they're not creative writing classes.  But they're English classes, which means the majority of students are female, and there's a decent chance they'res some good looking ones I can gawk at.
    Tenth paragraph!  Sweet.  Have second half of turkey sandwich with side of some baked potato chips for dinner tonight.  That's healthy to the max.  Unhealthy to the min.  What else.  I wonder what happened in Jingle All The Way.  I turned it off.  I have a real thought sometimes when watching movies I've already seen, I hope it ends differently this time.  I know it won't.  I'm not crazy.  But I hope it does.  You can't argue with a feeling.  That's how I feel.  And you can't argue with it.
    11th paragraph.  Halfway done and whatnot.  I guess.  Met game starting soon.  That's a thing to watch.  And I don't even know how it ends.  Win/win.  Probably with baseball.  If it ends with something that isn't baseball, that'll be a surprise.  Mets are tied for best record in baseball more or less.  That's pretty good.  It's good, in baseball, to win more games than your opponents.  Crunched the numbers and everything.  I don't know, what else and crap.  Most of my vacation is over.  Still got a good amount left, though.  That's good. 
    12th paragraph.  What the what.  I don't know.  Lost some more money in poker.  Still got a decent amount.  Oh well, crap and crap and whatnot.  Lost more money!  Keep running into sets.  Oh well, life goes on.  Probably.  I sure hope so, at least.  Crap and crap.  Hey, the Marlins are winning.  It's a good thing I already had it on mute.  Means I don't need to push a button in pretty much whatever direction I want.  Crap and crap.  Entry is better than dollars.  If I write enough entries, someone finds my website, gives me a job.  That's potential dollars!
    Yeesh.  Just start playing better.  If I play good, no problem.  Right?  Seems like there wouldn't be problem.  Anyway, what the what.  The Mets have runners on base.  You know what that means.  Bad grammar.  They have runners on bases.  Not multiple runners on one base.  It also means people get to run!!  Run is fun.  I don't know, crap and crap. Not playing good poker.  I should theoretically stop if I'm playing bad.  Practically, though, let's keep goin'.  Hey, I just won 10 dollars in poker!  It just goes to show you, you keep playing bad, you might get lucky.  Whew.
    Anyway, what the what.  Now I can stop playing poker.  Get out while I'm up.  Except I'm down over all.  But I'm more up than I was five minutes ago.  Besides, there's a baseball game going on!  How about that.  The Mets are tied and everything.  Wow.  Alright, I can sit at one table.  And it's a new table, so my track record of playing bad is unknown to these fools.  Crap and crap, 14th paragraph.  My foot fell asleep last night and I started wondering what happens to athletes when their foot falls asleep.  Gotta happen every now and then.  You're in left field, foot falls asleep.  You can't call a time out.  Maybe you technically can, I don't know, but you'd be too embarrassed to.  Just prey no one hits it to you. 
    Is it legal to chew gum in the field.  Seems like it verges on doping or something.  Dope.  15th paragraph!  Well, the night has been saved from losing too much money in one sitting.  I'm still sitting, though.  I'll keep myself updated on this situation as it develops.  I uploaded the instrumental track of Music to my computer and e-mailed it to myself and listened to it on my phone.  Seems like a something a real musician would do.  Get acquainted with the tune and stuff before finishing the vocals and singing it.
    Anyway, Friday, huh?  I know what that's like.  Crap and crap.  It's sort of like Saturday, but not quite.  Jeez.  Five paragraphs to go.  Then some quality doin-something-else time.  When someone gets their tubes tied, are they literally tying up some tubes?  Let's talk about it.  Probably.  That's why they call it that.  Who knows for sure though.  Crap and crap.  I like how in the late 90's, the Taco Bell campaign was centered around a dog who eats Taco Bell.  Eat Like A Dog!-- Taco Bell.  Let's talk about it and crap.
    Yeesh.  Is Gilbert Gottfried the actual Aflac Duck or are they just impugning on his voice copywright by having someone imitate him.  What happened when Gilbert smoked weed.  Gilbert Got Fried, man!  I will now retire from crazysheet after that joke.  You get to decide the reason.  So good I wanna quit on top?  Or so bad I'm too embarrassed to continue.  Let's see, words, words...  17th paragraph.  I got that going for me.  I don't know.  Dinner within the next two hours.  What else.
    Three paragraphs to go.  What the what.  I guess I have to write three more paragraphs.  Whatta jip.  Duda hit a homerun.  I got that going for me.  Not really for me.  I got that going adjacent to me.  Crap and crap.  I've hit all sorts of walls the last two paragraphs.  And if I hit the wall, it turns the TV on in the opposite direction.  Yep.  I gotta finish this entry.  Jeez.  How hard can it be to write two paragraphs and change.  All I need to do is say words in a logical order. 
    Two blobs of words left.  Crap and crap.  I can't remember the last time I got dressed.  Must have been eight days ago.  Last time I had to leave the house.  Livin' Large!  Not as large as I was five weeks ago.  Roughly fifteen pounds less.  I got that going for me and whatnot.  There's another thing better than poker.  I lose two dollars in poker, I lose two pounds, that's a net... win.  Or loss.  It's a double loss.  But one loss is a win.  Aren't words crazy.  I'm not gonna lie, I'm pretty disappointed I can't watch Tales From The Crypt on my future TV in the way it was intended.
    Why would I lie about that.  I'd have no motivation.  Right?  Great.  When Spring Class ends, I may revisit trying to convince my parents to let me spend my own money on getting a guitar/vocal teacher.  For some reason, I have to do something in life.  I know, I know.  I'm as surprised as you.  Unless you were really surprised.  I don't know!  I might eek out another paragraph or two.  My second Ritalin of the day is starting to kick in.  Which I believe is a soccer reference.
    Yeesh.  Not going for 25.  Any time I wanna stop, I'll stop.  That's good.  The pitcher for the Marlins right now's named Jarlin.  What?  What!  WHAT?!  Jarlin the Marlin.  That's not supposed to happen.  I wish I was good at Little League, so I could fantasize about getting a big hit and it being remotely possible.  I mean, I'm playing eight year olds in their little league world series, I'm still not gonna get a hit at the age of 28.  They're taller than me, what do you expect?
    Great.  What else.  Good shot this'll be the last paragraph and whatnot.  I like thinking about taking which teams situation.  Bottom of the eigth, you're down one run, bases loaded, one out.  What do you do-- What.  Do.  You.  Do.  Sure there's simulations that could tell you easily.  I don't need no simulation mucking up my good time.  What else.  And you can choose whether to take into account what team you are, whose on the bench, etc.  Or just think about it as an abstract situation.  There's lots of fun to be had by thinking of things.
    23rd paragraph.  Hey, I took that second Ritalin.  I'm not complaining.  Ritalin is Crazysheet Fuel.  And I went 26 years without taking Ritalin, like a chump.  Oh well, crap and crap.  Now I feel like going for the 25.  Ritalin has not only raised me up, but encouraged me to be more productive in general.  That's why we call Ritalin, "Crazysheet Fuel."  Also, because we just did.  I don't konw.  I like how I'm not playing On Tilt anymore because I took a 20 minute break and sat at a new table.  Back to playin' smart.
    Two paragraphs to go!  I don't believe it.  Gotta be honest though, when first prescribed with Ritalin, kinda disappointed I didn't get Adderall.   I was and am under the impression that's stronger.  Happy to get Ritalin, though.  I was relatively certain my doctor would go You're Fakin' just to get some uppers, get out of my office.  So you gotta take what you get and whatnot.  What Knot?  It's what happens when you get your tubes tied.  Let's talk about it.  I don't know, crap and crap.  My Doctor isn't even a doctor anymore.  I went through two real doctors, now I see a Nurse Practiononer.  Whatta jip.
    Last paragraph and whatnot.  Sweet.  To take a bath before dinner, or after dinner.  These are the days of my lives.  I take it an hour or two after, that's the standard.  I take it before dinner, it theoretically delays when I eat dinner, which loses weight.  Sure.  When I first started smoking cigarettes, I tried smoking a cigarette while taking a bath for a few times.  Thought it would be the epitome of luxury.  Turns out its just overdoin' it.  Cancel each other out and whatnot.  Why do I feel compelled to write more entry.
    Oh, right.  The uppers.  That's me!  It's my tertiary name after Michael Kornblum and Crazysheet.  How many names does one guy need.  At least three, apparently.  That settles that.  Gonna take a short break to pour Snapple.  I'll be back in a minute.  Well, in a minute.  I'll go away for a minute in a minute.  Right, right...  Crap and crap.  Now today's a super-productive.  Potentially 30 paragraphs.  That's better than the average amount of productivity.  Alright, I'm back.  Just in time to start a new paragraph.
    I'll stop when I want!  It just turns out when I want is after a total amount of paragraph to be divisible by five.  You can't argue with a feeling.  27th paragraph, right?  Great.  I wonder how managers take into account personal acheivements for their players.  Someone needs a homerun to pad their stats, they let them swing away in a situation where they should draw a walk?  And, if they do take that stuff into account, do they try to help the players get their good stats, or get them to avoid it.  Theoretically you'd wanna help your players, but the better the players stats are, the more they'll cost next year, so its worse for the team.
    I've given me a lot to think about.  Three paragraphs to go and whatnot.  It's Moneyball, you wouldn't understand.  Crap and crap.  I consulted the internet and there will be Met games on WPIX this year.  Whew.  I feel a lot better now.  Jeez, it's already 9:30.  I remember when the Met game was starting and I was already deep enough into the entry.  Time flies when you're on The Uppers.  Apparently there was a stampede at Penn Station.  And I missed it like a chump.  If I had seen a play today, I coulda been right in the middle of that shit.
    Two paragraphs to go.  Sweet.  After the last class, talking to Professor about my potential Musical Song, he asked if I had ever seen any musicals.  I told him about Rent and Avenue Q, but I didn't have it in me to tell him the first play I ever saw was Big: The Musical.  My guess is he's not a fan of not-quite-mediocre adaptations of not-quite-mediocre movies that are musicals.  I guess.  The point is what the what, I'm on the verge of 30 paragraphs!  I don't believe it.
    Alright, let's get this done with.  I've forgotten what its like for the Mets to lose.  They've won 5 in a row.  I crunched the numbers and everything.  Apparently The Frighteners was supposed to be a Tales From The Crypt movie.  Also, apparently Frightener is a real word.  I had no idea.  I guess.  What else and crap.  Starting to think about what headline to give this entry on Facebook.  So far I've got, "Another Long Entry At crazysheet.net!  I Can't Stop It!"  What else is crap.  Apparently a new Star Wars movie is called "The Last Jedi."  Jeez, ever heard of spoiler alerts?  Now we know there will be no more Jedis after this Jedi.
    31st paragraph.  This is it.  Please.  Let me stop!  Whatta bullshit.  I've written a lot of Paragraph this month.  Not too bad.  Sure is a Productive.  I guess.  Just took a 5 minute break to watch some tense Mets situation and then thinking about it for another few minutes.  Then I just thought about typing that for a few minutes.  Gotta consider everything.  Consider in retrospect.  Usually when you consider stuff, it's before a negative thing could happen.  That's what you're considering.  But you can consider stuff that's already happened as well.  Let's talk about it in another paragraph.
    No good reason.  Lots of bad reasons.  I've given me a lot to consider about.  Crap and crap, it's practically 10:00 PM.  That's a lot of hours into the day.  I guess.  What else is crap.  Also, whose calling Penn Station Pennsylvania Station.  Chumps, that's who.  Crap and crap.  Half a paragraph to go.  We did it, did it hardcore.  Anyway, what the what.  I'll see ya later.

-10:08 P.M.


Thursday, April 13, 2017

Let's Entry It Up

    Sure.  I'll try writing an entry.  I've done it a bunch of times before.  No reason to think I can't do it now.  Thursday and whatnot.  Less than a week left of my vacation from school.  Cool.  Watched an episode of Doug earlier today.  What a great show.  That's how I feel.  Apparently Trump is going crazy with the military.  Killin' civilians/allies.  Droppin' huge bombs.  That'll teach people to like America.  Apparently none of the Smart TV associated things play Tales From The Crypt for free.  They're all on Youtube, but for some reason its cropped, so you don't see the full screen.  Good enough I suppose, but sure, takes away from the experience.  This ain't the way the director intended!
    Whatta jip.  Apparently they're rebooting Tales From The Crypt with M Night Shyamalan.  Shy am Alan.  Let's talk about it.  Curb Our Enthusiasms supposed to come this year.  Whatta great.  Haven't checked my weight in a few days.  It's most accurate/lowest in the morning, and I haven't gotten up before 2:30 PM in a while.  I don't wanna check and it's higher than it should be.  That would be demoralizing.  No one wants a demoralizing.  Not me, at least.  Crap and crap.  No dreams about The Mick last night.  Whew.  I was starting to get concerned there were things wrong with me.
    Now I know there's nothing wrong with me.  That's a relief.  I feel like I had a pretty messed up dream last night that I can't remember.  But that's not out of the ordinary.  I have messed up dreams all the time.  But then I wake up to my decent enough life, so it's all good.  Third paragraph.  What the what.  I put on 28 days later last night and I maybe looked up from my phone three times.  Didn't register one line of dialogue or plot.  Oh well, live and learn.  I've said it before, I'll say it again-- they should have called 28 Days Later "One Month Later."  More efficient.  Let's talk about it.
    Crap and crap.  I'm starting to realize we're gonna have Trump as our president for another four years.  Jeez.  I honestly thought we were heading towards impeaching him quickly.  He knows how to change the subject and crap though, he knows what he's doing to some extent.  At least in terms of not getting impeached.  Crap and crap.  #LetsPromoteMikePence.  I've said it before, I'll say it again.  It's a great hashtag.  Let's get that trending.  At some point I'm gonna take a new profile pic for Facebook of myself now that I've lost weight.  Not sure when to do it exactly.  When I get under 160?  Seems like a big enough difference to commit to putting up a new picture of.
    Anyway, crap and crap.  Fifth paragraph.  What fun.  More Met Game tonight.  Facing the Marlins.  They just did that less than a week ago.  Whose creating these schedules.  Some chump, that's my guess.  What the what.  Gettin' a turkey sandwich for dinner.  I haven't had turkey in a while.  That's how I feel.  I've been led to believe it's healthy, though.  Sure.  What else is going on.  Crap and crap.  I changed Siri's language from English (American) to English (Canadian).  And she started talking slower.  It's funny because of stereotypes and such.
    And it's true!  I wouldn't lie to you.  Not to your face.  I suddenly got my old contacts re-established for some reason.  Didn't have them at first.  Mucked around on phone a bit.  Then I had them.  Now I've got double contacts for some people.  That's no good.  Crap and crap.  Sixth paragraph.  Whattado.  Just took a crap.  That's a good way to lose weight.  Tips: Presented By Michael Kornblum.  What else.  There's still a lot of crap to watch even without Tales From The Crypt.  And I can still watch Tales From The Crypt.  It just won't be as cinematically good.  Or the television equivalent of cinematically. 
    Anyway.  I don't know.  I don't think The Cryptkeeper has a lot of friends outside the audience.  He seems a little too excited to see us.  Probably the only social interaction he gets.  Oh well.  That's what you get for being a cryptkeeper, I guess.  What the what.  The first episode I remember of Tales From The Crypt, seeing it as a kid, was the one where each floor of the house, the guy either gets older or younger, and the girl gets the opposite.  Creepy stuff.  Floors of houses.  I'm scared.  I was scared of floors of houses when I was a kid.  Didn't wanna be on one floor alone.  Scary stuff.
    Crap and crap.  And I remember, when sleeping downstairs, which was often, I was scared of the living room.  Sleeping in the den, next room is the living room.  No lights on there.  I wonder what's in there.  Creepy stuff, probably.  Anyway, what the what.  Yeah, we had a den AND a living room.  Livin' large!  What else and crap.  We didn't have a dining room.  Three rooms on the first floor.  Den, living room, kitchen.  And bathroom, if you can even count that.  It's just an extension of the kitchen with a toilet.  What else and crap.
    Ninth paragraph!  Amazing.  I had a mini-donut for breakfast.  I don't care, I do what I want.  It's 50 calories more than a banana.  I'll survive.  What else is crap.  I've spent a week more or less in my room.  I gotta get out of here.  Get some life experience.  I've already experienced life in my room to the most of my capability.  Oh well, live and learn.  I could work on Musical Song tonight.  Seems like a Productive to do.  Don't really wanna do it anymore, but there are several reasons to stick with it.  1: Professor is looking forward to it.  2:  It's a Productive.  3:  Impress ladies in class with my Mad Skillz.  4:  I forgot what I was listing.
    Tenth paragraph and whatnot.  Now we're into the shit.  It's too easy to send messages with Siri.  I wanna just muck around, not actually send any messages.  Same with Twitter.  Make it harder.  I haven't Twittered in a while.  Let's think of some great Twitter.  Hmm.  But why Twitter when I can have it on the website.  Website takes priority.  I guess I could Tweet "#LetsPromoteMikePence."  But it woulda made more sense two weeks ago.  I guess I could wait another two weeks for it to make sense again.  #BURN.
Yeesh.  Halfway through entry.  What the what.  I don't know.  Met game in an hour.  That's a thing to watch.  There's new Met games a lot to watch.  Other than that, seen everything.  If they played three hours of Bartolo Colon hitting the homerun over and over, sure I'd probably watch it.  Gotta watch something.  Hah.  Colon.  He's fat, and colon is where shit comes out of.  I'm laughin'.  I'm surprised Bartolo Colon doesn't sign his name as Bartolo :.  Surprised is the wrong word.  Oh.  Not surprised.  That's the word I was looking for.  Also, he might.  I'm just guessin'.
    12th paragraph!  Sweet.  Poor Jose Reyes.  He's not good at baseball anymore.  And he used to be good at baseball.  How ironic.  Great.  I wanna get into chewing gum.  But I don't know where to start.  Probably by chewing gum.  Not gonna eat dinner when it gets here.  I'll eat when I want.  Get off my back about it.  Crap and crap.  You can eat turkey cold.  You can eat turkey however you want.  It's up to you.  I like how there's a lot more small intestine than there is large intestine.  It's a good piece of trivia.  Put that in your back pocket. 
    Yeesh.  What else is crap.  I use my back pocket for my keys and receipts/change I get.  Coin change.  Dollars, they go into my front pocket.  Now you know all my secrets.  Crap and crap.  Michael Conforto eats turkey sandwiches however he wants.  Anyway.  I found that Easter Egg on Google that if you type Do a barrel role it rotates it's screen twice.  Also, now I know why that kid in high school kept telling me to do a barrel roll.  The only reference point I had for it was Star Fox 64.  Thought, nah, that couldn't be it.  Turns out it is it.  So that mystery is put to bed.
    14th paragraph.  Seven paragraphs to go.  I can do that, do it hardcore.  Anyway.  It's getting to be warm outside.  I crunched the numbers and everything.  Crap and crap.  I don't know if I've ever eaten carp.  I don't know if anyone's ever eaten carp.  That mystery has not been put to bed.  I had a dream someone was gonna blow up the moon, and I was trying to stop them, because I knew it would be a catastrophe and end all life on earth.  And then I saw the moon blow up in the sky, and it did muck things up on Earth, but it wasn't an extinction level event.  And I was like, Hmm, guess I was wrong. 
    Mr. Show sketch.  Oh well.  15th paragraph.  The moon doesn't have an atmosphere.  Whatta chump.  Crap and crap.  I don't know.  What else.  Closing in on five weeks without a drink of alcohol.  Knockin' some sobriety out of the park.  A real moon shot.  Which is a baseball thing.  Not a drink that hillbillies drink.  Moonshine.  Let's talk about it.  If I'm ever rich, I'm gonna buy movies and TV shows on On Demand that you need to pay for like a motherfucker.  Even if I don't wanna watch them.  That's the epitome of luxury.
    Crap and crap.  Also, what else is crap.  5 paragraphs to go and whatnot.  I'll also get my own elliptical machine.  I don't wanna walk 40 feet to the neighborhood's complimentary gym like a chump.  Whose got the energy.  Anyway, crap and crap.  I've written a lot of paragraphs the past week.  That's something to be proud of.  Gotta be proud of something.  What else.  Judging by the past week, I'd say it's 50/50 Trump starts World War III.  I'll take those odds.  Good 50% chance he doesn't.  Not bad. 
    17th paragraph.  We should fight all wars by just playing Stratego.  Haven't we evolved enough to not use armies made out of people?  We can just settle all our problems by board games.  That way, we minimize the amount of people that get hurt/killed.  Nobel Peace Prize, please.  What else.  I bet whoever Nobel was is pretty pleased that his name is now the epitome of greatness.  Good for him.  Another Met game on SNY.  When is WPIX gonna get in on this action.  At this point, I'm very concerned something is wrong.
    Three paragraphs to go!  Sweet.  I don't know, what else and crap.  Things probably.  Gotta do some more make-up online homework for Environment.  Do Lab for Environment.  Got six days to do it.  That's not so bad.  I have three paragraphs to write now.  That's pretty bad.  That's how I feel.  Half the Doug episode I watched was about Doug getting involved in a scheme where he keeps mailing money so he could win a sweepstakes.  That old chestnut.  That's what kids wanna watch about on TV. 
    Two paragraphs to go.  Let's make 'em count for some reason.  For being entertainment reasons.  Mets down 4-0.  Time to put that shit on mute.  I don't need to hear that kind of crap.  Anyway, what the what.  Oh.  Cause I signed into voice mail.  That's what reloaded my contacts and whatnot.  Probably.  I gotta record a voicemail message.  I don't wanna go silly with it.  Just standard.  But I need to convey the information that they successfully called me however I did not answer the phone for a potentially good reason.
    Last paragraph!  Sweet.  Hey, The Mets got 2 on, nobody out.  Time to de-mutify it!  I want to hear the potentially good things that may happen.  Now the Mets have the bases loaded and nobody out.  I wouldn't lie to you.  This has been Mets talk.  No commentary, just the play by play.  I'm providing a public service and whatnot.  Now it's 4-3.  Let's talk about what's going on in the Met game some more.  Gotta talk about something.  Not really.  A few sentences away from being done.  Sweet.  Now it's 4-4.  I'll see ya later.

-7:52 P.M.


Wednesday, April 12, 2017

In The End, Who Really Wants To Do Anything

    I don't wanna write a musical.  It wouldn't work.  I thought about it.  I guess I can still write that first song.  So I don't disappoint Professor.  We'll see how it goes.  The point is I still have a week off for some reason.  I wanna say because of Holidays.  What makes this week different than all other weeks.  Holidays.  Sure.  Can't figure out how to download MP3s on my phone and put them in my iTunes library.  I wanna be able to listen to my songs by asking Siri to play them.  The ultimate orgasm.  Then Siri could play them randomly.  I won't have to pick a song myself like a chump.
    Oh well, guess I'll need to sign to a label and release an album so it's on Apple Music.  I had no motivation to do it before, but I guess now I have to.  Anyway, crap and crap.  Man, doin' nothing sounds pretty good right about now.  What else.  Have second half of Steak & Eggs for dinner tonight.  That's protein to the max.  Which is good.  That's what I've been led to believe.  Mets knocking it out of the park.  Literally, this time.  How about that.  My guess is if you major in English you're literally very good at English.  Because of words.  Sure.  I guess. 
    Third paragraph.  Hey, today's the 12th.  April 12th.  My third-birthday.  Not turning 3 years old.  It's a third of my birthday in terms of intrayear.  Let's talk about it.  28.33333 and so on.  Not really, I'm sure counting the days exactly its something else.  Get off my case about it.  I'm good literally, not mathematically.  What else.  I don't like talking to Siri too much.  I mean, I do like it.  But I shouldn't.  I don't wanna train myself to be friends with robots.  Then I'll have no motivation to be friends with people.  And I need to be friends with people to network.  Network!
    Jeez.  Being friends with a robot is never gonna get me a literal job.  Oh well.  I asked Siri if she was friends with Watson and she sort of avoided the question.  Wouldn't give me a straight up answer.  Is it possible Siri and Watson are hooking up?  My guess is sure.  For two nights in a row, I've had a dream I was in The Mick and it was my real life, not a TV show.  Pretty sure there's things wrong with me.  And the new episode from last night was about a sleepover and the youngest kid is having nightmares.  And I had the first dream before seeing that episode or knowing the title.
    Finally, my premonitions are paying off!  In terms of having dreams about TV shows ahead of time.  It's about time.  What else and crap.  Fifth paragraph.  The girl in The Mick only had two lines the entire episode.  My guess is they're phasing her out of the show due to poor approval ratings.  Oh well, live and learn.  My Environment grade was updated to show the credit I got on the late homework I did this week.  80%.  I could get a zero on the final and still pass the class.  Mission accomplished.  Now I don't have to bother taking the final.  Why bother.  I got things to do.
    The main thing I have to do is nothing.  That takes up a lot of time if you're doing it right.  Sixth paragraph.  Still April and whatnot.  I gotta get a haircut and a shave.  For appearance purposes.  I had to stop wearing my grey sweatshirt jacket in my Play Class.  Another guy wears the same jacket.  We can't be wearing the same jacket.  Whatta jip.  In high school, I thought wearing the grey sweatshirt jacket was the height of fashion.  Like my idol Eminem in 8 Mile.  Anyway, crap and crap.
    Seventh paragraph.  Sweet.  Cespedes hit 3 homeruns yesterday.  I keep imagining the color commentary calls if he hit more homeruns.  FIVE HOMERUNS!  HISTORY!  It's a good thing to spend a lot of time thinking about.  What else.  I also had a dream that Jason from Friday the XIII kept killing me.  I had unlimited lives, which was good, but he kept killing me so I couldn't go on with my life ever.  Had to start over from square one over and over, and he just wouldn't stop killing me.  I did watch Freddy Vs Jason last night, ahead of the dream, so at least that's good.
    Crap and crap.  I don't know.  I don't get why Fast & The Furious is such a huge franchise.  Hey, let's watch people drive cars.  Seems kind of boring to me.  What else.  I asked Siri to pick a number from 1 to 10 three times and she kept picking 1.  Three times in a row.  This means something.  Possibly that Siri only knows one number from 1-10.  Also, I got a beef with picking numbers from 1-10.  Wouldn't picking numbers from 0-9 make more sense?  Those are the digits, after all.  That's how I feel about things and you can't argue with a feeling.
    Ninth paragraph!  Sweet.  I'm pretty sure there haven't been any Met games on WPIX yet.  I'm starting to worry something is wrong.  You'd think they'd get a game in the first week of the season, so people know it's still a channel.  The point is what else and crap.  Being in the hospital isn't ripe for parody.  It's a very Syria-us situation.  And why would I want to relive that by writing a comedy musical about it.  I wouldn't, that's why.  The good thing is I don't have to do anything cause I've already went above and beyond my duty in that class.
    Crap and crap.  Tenth paragraph.  That's how I do.  Sure.  What else.  Apparently that guy in charge of Syria is a real jerk.  That's how I feel.  I don't care who knows it.  It's a strong stance to take, but that's me.  Crap and crap.  One things for sure-- he's worse than Hitler.  Which is important.  And factual.  And apparently a good public stance to take.  What else is crap.  What did Spicer call Concentration Camps.  "Holocaust Centers."  Hehaha.
    11th paragraph.  Halfway done and whatnot.  I wonder how many homeruns Cespedes will hit tonight.  Two?  Three?  More than three?  Your guess is as good as mine.  Well, maybe not.  My guess is pretty good.  I'd take my guess over your guess any day of the week.  Which is an expression for some reason.  I guess there was a lot of people saying "I'm so sure of this, I'd stand by it any day of the week... except Thursday.  Not confident about it on Thursday."  Let's talk about it.  I was looking up planets and stuff on Internet now that I have a better reference point about Earth from Environment Class.  Interesting stuff.  Theoretically.  And in practice!
    Great.  Hey, Baseball has started!  Wow.  I haven't seen a movie with an ape or monkey in over a week.  Something's wrong.  Is King Kong: The Skull Island Habitant still in theaters?  Guess I could do that.  Theoretically.  Not in practice, though.  I guess.  Anyway.  I'm sick of getting these small beetles on my skin.  I suddenly feel a movement on my back, reach for it, there's a beetle, crush it, throw it in the trash.  How come I didn't feel it a second before?  Where was it?  Beetles don't fly.  How'd it suddenly get in the middle of my back and I didn't feel it before. 
    Maybe beetles fall.  I don't think they can fly, but they sure can fall.  The point is crap and crap.  There were no bugs in my room until I cleaned it up.  Sure it corresponded with Spring beginning.  What of it?  Anyway.  Thirteenth paragraph.  Tomorrow is Thursday The Thirteenth.  I crunched the numbers and everything.  Hey Cespedes did some more Baseball.  How about that.  If you were 100 feet tall, you'd be pretty good at sports.  Baseball, all you gotta do is bunt, take one step to first base.  You could potentially get inside the park homeruns just by making fair contact.
    What else.  In little league, my specialty was taking pitches.  Small strike zone.  Really excelled at not swinging the bat, hoping for a walk.  Do nine year old little leaguers know how to through specific pitches.  Or do they just hurl it to the plate trying for a strike.  I wouldn't know because they never let my pitch.  They wouldn't even let me try to pitch.  Didn't wanna waste that two minutes of practice.  Whatta jip.  According to my baseball card from Baseball, that they made for us, my favorite player was Tino Martinez.  I don't remember that.  Sure, now I like him because I know his real name was Constantino Martinez.  Didn't know that then.
    Hey, it's the fifteenth paragraph.  Sweet.  Apparently Charlie Murphy is dead.  Whatta jip.  I could record the music to Musical Song tonight.  I know what chords and riff I wanna play over chords.  Only a question of how many times to repeat that.  I should go for 5 minutes.  That's a reasonable amount of time for a Musical Song.  If I was a Met fan my whole life, would my favorite player have been Bernard Gilkey?  Let's hope so.  The baseball card also listed my position as Shortstop.  I never played shortstop.  I couldn't play shortstop, I was a lefty.  I guess I got away with a fib there.
    Five paragraphs to go!  Wonderful.  Pretty sure they didn't keep track of or report stats for that baseball card.  That's the main thing for baseball cards.  And they didn't have it.  I want my money back.  I've been thinking every other night, you know, I could use a drink, drinking one night wouldn't kill me.  But I don't.  I got a good streak going of not drinking and I can't stand to let that streak end.  The point is what other adequate shows like The Mick can I watch.  And dream about.  Actually, scratch that.  I don't wanna dream about more TV shows.  As if they're not TV shows but my life.  I'm still working on how to get Jason to stop killing me.
    What else.  My main strategy for dealing with Jason was just running away.  He's a slow walker.  But he catches up with you sooner or later.  That's been my experience.  17th paragraph.  Still not able to watch Tales From The Crypt like a chump.  Oh well.  I guess.  What the what.  I don't know.  17th paragraph means three and a half to go.  Unless I go overtime like I have the last three entries.  We'll see how it goes.  My favorite player probably would have been Todd Hundley.  But Bernard Gilkey has a funnier name.  Todd Hundley is pretty funny too, though.  Can't go wrong either way.
    I believe Bernard Gilkey was the one in Men In Black.  No way of confirming that, though.  Crap and crap.  Hey, 18th paragraph.  How did I not notice that a second ago.  Entries fall out of the sky, though.  Apparently.  I don't know.  I asked Siri to play the Tales From The Crypt theme and it played a pumped up version meant for working out.  These are the days of my lives.  Siri can't wake me up by playing a song.  Let's get that in the next version.  For reasons.  I don't know.  Jeez.  20 paragraphs seems very likely.  What else. 
    Two paragraphs to go.  Let's do it hardcore.  Jacob DeGrom is the only Met starter without something great going on with his name.  There's Thor, there's The Dark Knight, there's Wheelin' and Dealin', there's Meet The Matz.  Pick up some slack, DeGrom.  Anyway, crap and crap.  I wonder how many nights in a row I'll continue to dream about The Mick.  Two?  Three?  More than Three?  Guess we'll have to wait to find out.  Michael Conforto hit a homerun.  He's got a pretty good name.  Michael-- well, that's me.  Conforto.  Has a lot of character to it.  Like contortionist.  Contorto.  Like Comfort.  Comforto.
    Last paragraph!  What the what.  I just almost threw up for some reason.  Probably smoking did it.  It was just a big cough up.  What the what.  Maybe it was the excitement of Michael Conforto and his name and his homerun.  Robert Gsellman.  I'm laughin.  Maybe eek out another five paragraphs after this.  Seems like something I can do at this point.  I will re-evaluate when this paragraph is done.  I don't know.  I should just cut it out.  But I get a high from writing paragraphs.  Gotta get a high from something.
    21st paragraph.  Jeez.  Gotta do somethin'.  Even doing nothing is doing something.  That's been my experience.  And my doing something is doing nothing.  Let's talk and think about it.  Hey what's up.  Just refilled my soda.  You might have noticed I was gone.  Hopefully not.  You notice that, you got some mighty powers.  And with power comes responsibility.  And who wants responsibility.  Not me, that's for sure.  You probably don't either.  That's my best guess.  Every day of the week.  Crap and crap.
    Four paragraphs to go.  Seems reasonable.  What is crappening and crap.  I have some sad news.  A girl who was in the hospital the same time as me last time I was in hospital five years ago died.  According to Facebook.  And I'm assuming it was a suicide.  What crap.  First person I've known in entire life, first peer at least, that has died.  I feel like I should have been friends with her or something.  She seemed like a cool person based on Facebook updates.  Oh well.  That's part of why I don't really wanna do the Hospital Musical anymore.  I'm not equipped to make some clever commentary about that or anything. 
    23rd paragraph.  Sure.  Also, can't motivate myself to work on it.  Maybe if I had more motivation I could put in the time to figure out some clever commentary.  Who knows for sure.  Not me.  And we'll most likely never know because it won't happen.  Crap and crap.  Let's write this entry for her.  That's how things happen and crap.  Anyway, what the what.  I don't remember ever even talking to her, but I must have talked to her to some extent in hospital if we friended each other on Facebook.  Facebook is only for true friendships.  Right?  Probably.
    24th paragraph.  Gotta end it on something else.  What else.  I don't know.  Whatta downer.  Gotta work in some upper.  Got two paragraphs to do it.  That's a lot of paragraph.  What the what.  I don't know.  Jeez.  Crap and crap.  That took all the air out of this entry.  Whatta bullshit.  There's signs on busses telling everyone to carry naloxone which cures heroin overdoses or something.  I'm not falling for that one.  If we're all carrying naloxone, that'll just encourage more people to do heroin, now that they know they might be saved from an overdose.  That's no good.
    Last paragraph.  Cool.  What else is going on and crap.  Gotta write one more paragraph for some reason.  Consistency's sake and all.  I don't know.  Jeez and crap.  I'm not carrying no naloxone.  What have people who are overdosing ever done for me?  Nothin', that's what.  Anyway, crap and crap.  Eat dinner soon after this is over.  Finish watching Met game.  Spend some quality time lying in bed thinking about where I went wrong with my life.  I'll see ya later.

-8:39 P.M.


Sunday, April 9, 2017

What The Whatness

    Gonna try writing an entry for the second day in a row.  Let's do it hardcore.  If we don't, you'll never read this, so no one would be the wiser.  Great.  Let's get started.  What's the deal with things.  That's all I got.  I haven't accumulated any life experience in the last 20 hours.  It's not like there was another hour of The Rap Game.  Oh well, live and learn.  Gotta start working on Musical songs.  Haven't made any progress the last few days.  This is my one shot to make people like me in this class, can't blow it.  Half a pound away from not being obese.  Great.  I'm a little worried I'ma have loose skin when I diet.  I feel like I probably won't, because that's something that happens when you lose weight and are older, right?  I'm still young.  That's how I feel.
    I guess.  Goofballs and funnybones.  Let's start including those in this entry.  For Strategy reasons.  Finishing Chinese Food tonight.  You know what that means.  It's pretty self explanatory.  If you don't know what it means, you need a lot of help in life.  What else.  I'ma start doing some push ups and situps.  I feel like I can do like 50 or 100 of each spread out over the day.  That'll get me in shape and whatnot.  I have a memory of when I was a freshman at Stuy, in my old room that was half the size, doing push ups and situps on my bed.  It probably detracts from the exercise doing it on a mattress, but I didn't have any room to do it on the floor.  I specifically remember listening to The White Stripes' Offend In Every Way while doing it.  That's a good pump-up song. 
    Memories.  The real question is how many calories does jerking off burn.  I guess it depends on how long you do it.  And your technique.  I have a vague memory of jerking off an insane amount of times when I was in Hospital, but I'm not sure if that's a real memory or not.  Oh well, such is life.  I definitely remember taking an insane amount of showers.  Like four or five over one day.  Because you have nothing else to do.  Might as well keep taking showers.  Such is life.  Also, I got the stink of being ill on me.  Must get clean, must get clean.
Sure.  Been not in a hospital for five years.  That'll show 'em, that'll show all of 'em.  Now I'm writing a play about a guy in a hospital.  I need inspiration and whatnot.  It's funny, though, because it's funny.  Last class professor was talking about a play he saw where the premise is it's a play being put on by inmates at a hospital.  This was the first class back since I had the hospital idea.  Whatta jip.  I was thinking, this is original and whatnot!  Turns out, not so much.
    Oh well, live and learn.  See, the play can be funny and absurd, but its got to have heart, too.  That's how I feel.  And it's pretty good because I have a heart.  So I know where I'm coming from and whatnot.  A few years ago I wrote part of a story on Facebook, in successive notes, and there was a girl whose name was Hearts in it.  I feel like that's a great name.  If I have a daughter, sure, I'll name her Hearts.  I've written a lot of names in my time, and Hearts takes the cake.  Anyway, crap and crap.  I used to fantasize about changing my name.  First name, I usually thought about changing to Adam.  It's my current middle name, so there is some holding onto the person who I am.
    I don't have the time to change my name, though.  I got things to do.  What else.  Sixth paragraph.  Great.  I read three paragraphs of Bob Dylan book.  That'll get me in the zone for writing a stupid musical.  I never finished my Pete Townshend book.  What happens?  I guess I'll never know.  Unless I finish the book.  Which I might do over this week and a half.  Sounds like a pretty good idea and whatnot.  There could be a song about all the different characters you meet in Hospital.  So far, I have one.  I could probably think of some others, though.  Anyway.  One route I could take is the guy meets a girl in hospital and romance ensues.  Seems kind of cliche, though.
    We'll see.  I'm against cliches.  I don't care who knows it.  What else.  Still not sure what to do in terms of recording songs/trying to play them in front of class.  I'll keep myself updated on this situation as it develops.  Hey, I can be a movie critic.  Don't know where that idea came from.  But sure, I like movies.  And sometimes I don't like them.  Those two things are the main requirement for being a movie critic.  And I got them down pat.  What else and crap.  I was talkin' to my Dad about crap I could for for a job.  He suggested working at a newspaper.  Jeez.  Watching the news is too intense for me.  That's where I'm at.
    I guess.  Eighth paragraph.  I like watching Long Island local news when I'm in a Doctor's Waiting Room.  It's like regular local news but with more advertisements for yachts and luxury cars.  And advertisements for Great Gatsby Parties.  What else.  I guess.  I like eating Tea Biscuts.  First reason, it made me realize the pun that is Seabiscuit.  Second reason, they're good.  It's like a cross between a cracker and a cookie.  A cookie, but not too sweet.  And, I don't feel like eating a fruit or vegetable, I have two tea biscuits.  No harm done.  That's about where I'm at in life these days.
    Ninth paragraph.  I saw a movie several months ago with Bobcat Goldthwait where he talks to a horse.  How many academy awards did that movie win?  Two?  Three?  More than three?  Anyway, what the whatness.  I had a dream last night I got to go back in time and improve my wooing of girls.  And I was like, this is great, when I go back to present time, we'll be together.  Turns out it never happened because either I still wasn't good enough at wooing them or because it was a dream and real things to happen based on dreams.
    Tenth paragraph.  I also had a chance to save some songs I had written that are lost now to a USB drive so I could have those in the future.  Which was equally exciting.  The point is what else and crap.  I still have time to get electronical guitar fixed if I wanna do that for Musical.  Seems like a good way to go about things.  It can be the absurd musical with almost mediocre punk music.  That's could be a thing is how I feel.  I also don't know if I should have some of the songs as if the character himself is actually playing them.  Either way, I guess.  Playin' somber acoustic guitar music in hospital, does it matter if he's actually playing the song, or not.  The feelings expressed are whats important.  And the potential goofballs in the lyrics.
    Anyway.  It'd have to be acoustic if its actually the character playing the song.  You can't have an electric guitar in hospital.  That's absurd.  Absurd is what I'm going for!  That's a great idea!  We'll see how this line of thinking pans out.  My guess is I'll forget it by the time the entry is over.  What else is crap.  I'm looking forward to having these flights of fancies about Musicals being quarantined to the past.  Get to watch TV without the nonsense of doing a Productive Creative in my head.  Devote all my brain power to watching Tales From The Crypt.  What else is crap.
    12th paragraph.  Cool.  Got a little bit of Environment homework due by tomorrow night.  Then the past assignments he's making me make up due Wednesday night.  Oh well, live and learn.  I'm not sure about what I want as my ideal weight.  I guess somewhere between 115-125.  Probably the way to go.  Anyway, what the whatness.  Got no homework to do tonight.  That's pretty good.  I'm happy about that.  Sure.  I don't know, what else.  Just hit a wall.  It was bound to happen sooner or later.  Or right on time.  Those are the three options of when things can happen.
    And whatnot.  13th paragraph.  Let's get back into a groove or something.  I'm pretty sure Carlito's Way was the main inspiration for Grand Theft Auto III.  That's a scary game.  You steal someone's car, don't drive away fast enough, they fuckin' grab you out of the car.  A real role reversal.  Scary stuff.  I guess now I know how they felt when I grabbed them out of their car.  That game is a real eye opener.  What else is crap.  The good news is if the police are ever after you, all you need to go is change the color of your car.  Good stuff to know for real life. 
    Sure, why not.  Crap and crap.  Seven paragraphs to go.  I can do that, do it hardcore.  It's gonna be lit.  Final elimination in Rap Game.  Fourth place was Flau'jae, of course.  JD was nice about it, though.  I don't like it.  You could just say, Not That Good.  NEXT!  The point is what else and crap.  Are girls ever juniors.  Your mom is Haley, you're Haley Jr.  Never seen it happen.  Only boys.  Let's get to the bottom of this conundrum.  Sure.  What else.  Hey.  I'm Emily The Third.  Let's get to the bottom of this.  Crap and crap.  I think Tally really missed an opportunity, quitting the show.  She had a good chance of coming in fourth.
    15th paragraph.  Sweet.  Something I noticed, every week in The Rap Game, Tally had a new haircut.  That tells me that someone's trying too hard.  Or they're a big fan of haircuts.  One of those two.  I've noticed my hair takes different shape every few pounds I lose.  Most noticeable after bathing.  I guess that's just a part of life apparently.  The point is I watched the first five minutes of Moulin Rouge and just couldn't take it.  Too fast paced.  Too intense.  I was a fan of that music video for Moulin Rouge with a bunch of sexy singer ladies.  For personal reasons.  Get off my back about it.
    Five paragraphs to go.  What play to see.  This week off would make the most sense to go see one.  But there's a 5% chance, if I put it off, I can trick someone or someones in Class to see something with me.  Especially if I impress them with Guitar.  They'll be like putty in my hands they will.  I think its safe to say, whether I realized it or not, Roger Ebert was one of my favorite writers as a youth.  This is relevant because of reasons one would imagine.  I don't know. 
    17th paragraph.  Cool.  I like how I wanted to watch Trial & Error but the first episode you have to pay for.  That's a great way to get people hooked on your show.  Not letting them watch it.  NBC has got it all figured out.  Unless its on CBS.  Then NBC has really got it all figured out.  Tricking CBS to make you pay for the first episode.  I don't know how NBC pulled that off, but all the more credit to them.  I have trouble watching the Maury/Jerry Springer shows the last few months.  Too intense.  Too much drama.  Also, that new show on FOX where people vote online as if they were in a jury.  That has the potential to be the worst thing to be on TV in this century. 
    Sure, I guess.  Three paragraphs to go.  I'm pretty sure 80% of people will vote the wrong way just to be a dick.  And, televising it, that's the representation of our country we're forced to watch play out.  Jeez.  They must have some system to prevent that, though, right?  Like making up the results themselves?  Probably.  One thing's for sure-- Siskel is a freeloader.  Ebert carried him for no good reason.  Nobody likes Siskel.  Leonard Maltin is okay.  He was in Gremlins II.  In one version.  One version had Leonard Maltin, the other version had Hulk Hogan.  I think it's safe to say, whether I realized it or not, Gremlins II was one of my favorite movies as a youth.  It's safe to say anything.  Most things.  Even if they're wrong or incorrect.  You can say them without fear of repercussions.  Most things.
    Who knows how many paragraphs this'll be.  You, if you count how many paragraphs are left in this entry when reading this.  What, you think you're better than me?  Fuck off.  Crap and crap.  And writing this Musical makes my whole life come first circle.  The first movie idea I ever had, when I was ten or eleven, was Mental Hospital, potentially starring Leslie Nielson.  That's all I had.  Actually, my first movie idea was Yokozuna Attacks!  Mental Hospital was my second idea.  Anyway.
    20th paragraph.  Wow.  Actually, my first movie idea was Hollow Man.  They stole that from me.  Jeez.  Mick Foley was one of my favorite writers as a youth.  That I was fully aware of.  He's relatable because of crap and stuff.  Louis Sachar.  He was a good'un.  They should make a movie about Wayside School.  Might be too absurd, though.  All the better.  Also, the plot isn't very strong.  It's more a collection of short short stories.  They could figure it out.  If they can make Hollow Man, they can figure out Wayside School.  Maybe it's on me to write that screenplay.  Damnit, I hate when things are on me!  I just wanna watch Tales From The Crypt uninterrupted for the rest of my days.
    Anyway, what the what.  Another long entry.  Who knows how long.  Not me.  You might.  That's good.  I wonder how Tim & Eric make their shows and crap.  Seems like they would repeat a lot by accident.  No, we already did a thing when you made that face and touched yourself there three years ago.  Seems tough, that's all I'm saying.  I kinda like doing the online assignments for Environment.  All the answers are in the book and I come to the verge of learning something.  While very slightly increasing my overall grade.  Good stuff.
    Jeez.  I think it's safe to say if I had Tales From The Crypt I wouldn't be writing this.  Sure.  22nd paragraph.  Cool.  I like killing bugs.  It makes me feel like a big man.  Which is something I don't feel like a lot of the time.  On account of physical size and whatnot.  I guess.  I wonder how many people read this.  I always assumed it was, I don't know, 2 or 3.  What if there's a bunch that read this and just don't let me know.  Why, it could even be double digits.  It's within the realm of possibility.  If someone I knew was writing this kind of crap, I'd read it like a mother fucker. 
    I write it, and I read it.  That's a good barometer or something.  23rd paragraph.  Feels like I'm gonna go for 30, but who knows.  I should re-title the blog Paragraph Talk with Michael Kornblum.  Possibly Adam in some strange future.  I'm pretty happy that both my names cover all of the Beastie Boys.  Not even just the three, but Mix Master Mike, too.  It's a real point of pride for me.  I guess.  What else is crap.  Don't like watching Lock Up: The Show On MSNBC About Prison anymore, either.  Pretty intense.  Over time, some things get easier to watch, some things get harder.  That's life I guess.
    24th paragraph.  Seven to go!  Perfect, just great.  Let's watch Gremlins II.  I'd settle for Gremlins I.  Which, let's be honest, isn't as good.  Might do that Environment Homework due tomorrow tonight.  Seems like a thing to do.  I know there's that urban legend about the person who heats up their dog in the microwave and it kills them.  But what if it's only for one second.  One second couldn't kill them, right?  Everything in moderation.  Too long, sure, that's terrible.  One second seems reasonable, though.  That's how I feel.
    Six paragraphs to go!  1/5th of what I've already done.  Let's talk about it.  I used to write 5 paragraphs an entry.  Then it was 10.  Then it was 20.  Now it's 30.  Three in a row don't lie.  Crap.  What else.  Met Game tonight.  Sweet.  So many shows to rewatch with Smart TV.  So many movies.  It's about time.  I've been watching regular TV like a chump for way too long.  That's how I feel.  I've had this TV 13 years now.  It's done its job.  Now time to put it out of its misery.  By deleting Misery from my DVR.  Sure. 
    With paragraphs like that, reaching 30 paragraphs will be a piece of cake!  Which is a good thing!  I've been led to believe!  Sure.  Lead is a bad thing.  I learnt about it in Environment Class.  Except for in pencils.  Everything in moderation.  What else.  The point is don't eat pencils.  The point is on the opposite side of the eraser.  Crap.  1/6th of what I've already written.  Sweet.  I'm not 100% on that math.  Unfortunately we can't write Entry in pencil and correct our mistakes as we go.  Crap.
    27th paragraph, though, that's pretty good.  You don't need to have tea to enjoy a good tea biscuit.  A lesson we all learn in life at some point.  What else.  Heating up rice is troublesome, too.  I can't do it in the oven.  That'll make it crispy.  This ain't some cereal I'm having.  And, if I was having cereals, no way I'd have Rice Krispies.  Disgusting.  I can't heat up rice in the microwave.  Well, I can, but I've got some issues with it.  Rice is packed tight, hard to heat up.  Convection.  Latent Heat.  Hadley Cells.
    28th paragraph.  Sometimes I think about how much rice people in China eat.  Gotta be a lot, right?  But how much.  I need more exact answers.  What else.  Sometimes I think about how Tokyo has the largest population of any city.  Wonder what that's like.  You can fit in a lot of people if everyone sleeps in a drawer.  Or is that only for visitors in hotels.  Again, I don't have all the details, but I'll get to the bottom of this as soon as I'm done fantasizing about watching Tales From The Crypt. 
    29th paragraph.  Jeez.  Not done writing yet.  Passover is now or coming up.  What makes these nights different from all other nights.  I forget.  The only difference I remember is asking that question.  Something about bitter herbs.  I don't have all the details.  Let's be honest, though, Passover is no Sukkot.  Sukkot, you live in a room with three walls.  Doesn't get much better than that.  That's Sukkoh, right?  Seems like I should have learnt that in Hebrew School.  Anyway.  I've started fantasizing of not living with my parents.  It's actually within distance and whatnot, depending on how my life plays out.  Graduate at end of the year.  Time to get a job.  Then, getting my own place is within sight.
    Exciting stuff.  I'd be able to take all the Ritalin, when I want, how I want.  Where I want.  Smells.  I confused the five senses with the five "Where, what, why...ies"  I'll never be a journalist at this rate.  Or at any rate.  I'll just never be a journalist.  Unless you define journalist as a person who writes a journal.  Then I'm already there.  Crap and crap.  I don't know.  30th paragraph.  I guess.  Maybe one more paragraph after this one.  That's an average of 31 paragraphs over last three entries.  That's 93 overall.  I crunched the numbers and everything.
    Jeez.  Alright.  Let's see, words, words.  I've already used a bunch of 'em.  Got to use some more.  Unless the rest of the paragraph is composed of words I've already used.  Then, well, then, well, sure, great.  I don't know.  I wonder if people in Australia feel lonely.  Sure.  Aboriginals mean they're not original, right?  Like, it's been done before, come on.  Words and crap.  One things for sure though, I'm not aboriginal.  You know, cause I'm white?  That sort of crap.  Entry is practically over.  Time to wrap it up.  Wrap it up by saying see ya later.  See ya later.

-6:20 P.M.


Saturday, April 8, 2017

Title, Huh?  Great.

    Hello friends and enemies.  What's going on in the wide world of bullshit.  Into the week off and whatnot.  My boy Nova won the rap game.  Wasn't really rooting for him, because he was the favorite, and ya gotta root for the underdogs.  But he was the best rapper, so I got no complaints.  He's gonna bring it hard for so-so def.  Also, what's rap.  I've had the thought several times watching this show, If I really wanted to, and set my mind to it, I could rap.  Then again, I've also had that thought about a dozen other things where it turned out I'm terrible.  Blogwriting, for one.  So that's how that goes.
    Crap and crap.  My main line of thinking is, okay, I just spit a dope battle rap.  The crowd is surprised and going crazy.  How do I react.  Smile, shake the other guy's hand.  Goin, "Man, we both know I'm the greatest now, can you believe it?"  Then they invite me over for drinks and they're like, "I can tell you're something special, let's be friends."  So I got that to look forward to I guess.  Pretty much all my fantasies end up with someone going Let's Be Friends.  Anyway, crap and crap.  Going to a Tim & Eric show in a few months with Brother.  So I got that going on and crap.
    I knew Roscoe wouldn't win, because he's younger than Deetranada and Nova.  He's got a few years to work the circuit, get his level up.  Deetranada and Nova, they're elder statesmen at 16.  If they don't get it done now, it's over.  Now or never.  They're way past their prime.  Anyway, crap and crap.  My favorite part of the show is where they show clips of Them All Being Friends.  Alright!  Rapping is one thing, getting a career is one thing.  Making friends that will last forever?  EVERYBODY WINS!  That's how I feel.
    Crap and crap.  This ain't a mother fuckin' game.  It's the Blog game.  Mostly between me and...  I can't pull another blogger.  Slate.com.  That sort of thing.  What else.  So, we bombed Syria.  It's about time.  I was beginning to think America wasn't militarily powerful anymore.  Whew.  Crap and crap.  Now, I'm sure many of us are uneasy any time we get embroiled in a military foreign conflict.  But having Trump as the commander in chief, doesn't it seem like even the stupidest of world leaders can outmaneuver him extremely easily?  Things don't look good.
    That's why I've always said, Bobby Fischer For President.  In the movie Searching For Bobby Fischer, I think I always just assumed, Okay, the kid in that movie is named Bobby Fischer.  I've seen it, and I still assume that.  Prove me wrong!  I wonder if Indian In The Cupboard is friends with Small Soldiers and Toy Story.  I guess.  Crap and crap.  For some reason I've never seen Toy Story, or Toy Story II, or Toy Story III.  I was probably around 8 when Toy Story came out.  Never saw it.  Seems like a missed opportunity. 
    I vaguely remember thinking about Toy Story, Ah, I'm above it.  Not a kid anymore.  But at the same time, I also remember not thinking that.  Wow.  Maybe it's because I never particularly liked toys.  I'm Generation Y.  We had DOS and Windows 95 for fun and games.  No need for toys.  That's how I feel.  I also read a lot.  Whatta nerd.  What else.  Gotta do something.  Also, TV.  What else.  Sixth paragraph.  Saturday.  Got some chords and crap all ready for Musical.  Knockin' some chords out of the park and whatnot.  Maybe the main character can become a rapper.  That'll combine all my passions.  Characters and Becoming Things.
    Right.  I'm pretty sure if Zack Wheeler did better yesterday a headline about the game could have been Wheeling and Dealing.  He's got the exact right profession for that.  Pitching.  Dealing.  The only thing he could do better would be a dealer in card games at a casino.  Oh well, we can't all live the dream.  All kids grow up wanting to be a blackjack dealer.  I Control The Cards.  I Have All The Power.  Right?  Sure.  I find it weird how popular the game War is among kids.  I get that it's a very easy game to learn/play, and that's why.  But isn't there some equally easy game that involves at least some level of skill or strategy?  Playing War, you might as well play, Let's Flip a Coin Fifty Times.
That sounds fun.  Who wants to play me in Flip a Coin.  The gauntlet has been thrown down.  What paragraph is this.  Eighth.  Wow.  I wanna play some Stratego.  I've had a lot of time to really think hard about interesting Stratego Strategies.  I've had a good six or seven years of relatively nothing, and I'm proud to say I've devoted much of that time to thinking about Stratego.  In Environment I learned about Stratosphere.  That's where the Ozone Layer is.  I wouldn't lie to you.  Greenhouse Gases.  Albedo.  Precipitation.  Got it all locked down in my memoryhead.
    What else.  Still haven't even ordered my new TV.  What a gip.  I had my birthday like a chump and still haven't gotten my present.  Oh well, live and learn.  I was looking at MFA Creative Writing Programs just for fun.  I feel like if I could get a full ride, might be something worth doing.  Not gonna pay for it, though.  I'm paying enough by doing that instead of getting a job.  So, yeah, sure.  I've also started reconsidering teaching English.  Because apparently I will have to do something to make money.  I know, I'm as surprised as you are.
    Yeesh.  Tenth paragraph.  English classes are all about assigning books and having interesting things to say/ask about them.  That sounds hard.  So, In What Book is Tom Joad.  I think it's Grapes of Wrath.  100%.  Anyway, what else.  I could have a class where it revolves around the concept of people falling down a well.  Only assign books where someone falls down a well, or a sewer, or that prison from Batman: The Movie.  Sounds like a fun class to teach.  Then, for extra credit, have my students fall down a well and write about their experiences.
    I got that I guess.  I just want to make friends or something.  Thinking about what I'm gonna do when I graduate, I just think in terms of, Hey, doing this, I'll get into some social circle or something.  That sort of crap.  Eleventh paragraph.  I guess.  Whattado.  I was watching Carlito's Way.  I don't have a story or quip about it.  Whatta letdown.  Crap and crap.  Four English Classes to go.  None creative writing.  That's ok.  I'll read some books, sure.  As long as I don't have to learn about Polar Molecules or Hadley Cells, sure, can't be that bad.  Tally flaked out.  Whatta chump.  She could be the covergirl of Chumps Monthly.
    See, battle rap.  Just gotta turn it into a rhyme.  Tally, you really stunk, then you flaked like a chump.  See, I'm great.  What else is crappening.  I bet the people in Stockholm are starting to sympathize with the driver who ran over people.  Because of Syndromes.  Got some online homework for Environment to do this week in addition to working out one or two Musicals.  This is my one shot to impress this class.  I'ma be 20 pounds lighter and play more music than I did in the beginning of the class.  That's how I feel. 
    13th paragraph.  Doin' it hardcore.  I'm a little scared about seeing Tim & Eric.  Their stuff can get pretty intense.  Gotta face our fears, though.  Probably.  Seems like something we'd have to do.  A couple of weeks ago I picked up a flyer in Dunkin Donuts where there's a challenge to write a song about Dunkin Donuts, and they give you the lyrics, and the three finalists preform their Dunkin Donuts Material in front of an audience.  You had to record it on YouTube, though.  I can't preform songs.  I can only lay down some tasty tracks and sing out of tune and out of rhythm to them, and not at the same time as playing guitar.
    Hey, we all got our own ways we work, don't knock mine.  There's three or four Lifetime shows about little women in various different cities.  No shows about little men.  I guess there's no target audience.  Average height men could care less.  Average height women could care less.  Below average height men don't wanna be reminded of shortness.  Below average height women already got their own thing.  Three or four of their own things.  I was thinking about maybe doing an online dating site.  My friend Mike from Stuyvesant did it and got a girlfriend.  And he's a real lamewad.  I feel like, I lose a bunch of weight, even listing my height at 5'2, I got personality.  I might be able to make something happen.
    There's got to be at least some percentage of girls okay with my height.  If you're on a dating site, you gotta be relatively desperate to begin with, right?  Sure.  What else.  They may be like, Hmm, it says 5'2, that's not so bad.  Then they see me in person and are like, Oh, that's what 5'2 is?  Never mind.  So I got that to look forward to.  Crap and crap, what paragraph is it.  15th.  Sweet.  I really should just start leaving the house on stilts.  It's strategy.  Anyway.  I've wondered a lot over the past few weeks, people in comas over long periods of time, do they somehow feel time passing?  Is it like, you get into a coma when you're 23, you wake up when you're 43, does it seem instantaneous?  What is it like.
    These are the important issues of our time.  If I woke up tomorrow and was 43, I'd be like, Crap, this sucks!   That's how I feel.  Got a case for my phone.  So I got that going for me.  The point is I'm tall enough for pretty much any amusement park ride.  Anyway.  I feel like I could be pretty good at making hand gestures while rapping.  That would be my main best quality.  And I'd be able to tell people, Well, it all started when I was 11, and I was Big Mak of The Mad Dawgs.  Except I was Lil Mak.  I didn't get the humor of keeping it at Big.  Like a real switch-em-up.
    Crap and crap.  17th paragraph.  Don't know yet how long this entry'll be.  Probably some amount of length.  Crap and crap.  New SNL tonight.  How many Rap Game sketches will they have.  Two?  Three?  More than three?  I guess we'll have to watch to find out.  The point is What Else.  The Chainsmokers are the musical guest tonight.  How can I be so indifferent about a band which describes my main activity in life?  Probably by not really knowing their music.  That would explain it.  Gotta quit smoking over the next few years.  Get out while I still can.  I don't wanna die for some crap reason like smoking.  That would be a real chump move.
    Great.  I've got a lot of beefs with anti-smoking ads.  None that I can think of right now.  So I guess we'll have to move on.  Crap and crap.  I still say, if you smoke cigarettes, you're cool.  I don't care.  You can't argue with a feeling.  Anyway.  I think for years after I quit smoking weed, I still fantasized about smoking weed, and would jump at the opportunity to smoke weed.  Pretty much safely in the past, now.  I'm Adultin' it up in that regard.  Sure I'd smoke weed under the right conditions.  Get off my back about it.  What else is crap. 
    19th paragraph.  How'd that happen.  By writing a lot without taking a break.  Not bad.  Good.  Anyway.  Haven't checked my weight this week, but I'm pretty confident I've crossed the threshold between obese and overweight.  Looked at some statistics on Internet, 2/3rds of Americans are overweight-- I learned that in Environment and Internet confirmed it.  Also, 1/3rd of Americans are obese.  So now I'm in the top 66 percentile!  Knockin' it out of the park.  I like dieting.  It makes me feel superior to people.  What, you're eating 1500 calorie meals like a chump? 
    The point is I'm better than people in a wide variety of areas.  Mainly dieting and potentially being able to make great hand gestures while rapping.  What else and crap.  20th paragraph.  Last entry was, what, 30?  Feel like I could safely get to 25 today.  Sure, why not.  Also, the other point is, I'm sure my weight will fluctuate between great and terrible many times over the rest of my life.  That's where the smart money is.  Great.  Gotta keep the body guessing.  That's common knowledge, that's all that is.  What else is crap.
    Five paragraphs to go.  Then some real quality I Don't Have Anything To Do time.  I'm a little upset to find out that people say that bananas aren't that great for you.  Oh well, live and learn.  Crap and crap.  I remember I used to sometimes eat Oranges like a chump.  I don't have time for Oranges.  Let's get real.  Also, why capitalize Orange and not banana.  For strategy, one would imagine.  I don't have all the details.  I don't know if I should drop the fake-band-name The Uppers.  Just go by Michael Kornblum.  Which is my given name I've been led to believe.  It's a good way to add a layer of separation, though, because it's not that good.  Wasn't me what wrote that song-- it was The Uppers!
I've given me a lot to think about.  Also, makes me feel good.  Instead of, Yeah, I've been writing these crap songs, it's, The Uppers is this project I'm workin' on, man, you don't get it, it's way over your head.  Project, that's the key word.  What else and crap.  Met Game when this is done.  They play baseball.  They got players and everything.  Crap and crap.  I've started fantasizing about getting a game winning hit to win the world series.  And making some really great hand gestures on my way to first base.  That sort of thing.  I think I once got a hit in little league.  Seems like something that might have happened.
    23rd paragraph.  What the what.  I guess.  Does WebMD really have a medical degree.  Seems like they wouldn't, on account of being a website.  I've given me a lot to think about.  I've started to get in the habit of setting my alarm even if I have no shit to do the next day.  I read somewhere that too much sleep is bad for you, and if I read it somewhere, it must be true.  Also, even if I decide to go back to sleep, I get that great feeling of being able to go back to sleep.  Real win/win situation and whatnot.
    24th paragraph.  Jeez.  I don't have Play Class for another two and a half weeks.  First week back has no Play Class.  Great, just great.  I write a really great musical, that's gonna make me friends.  Professor is gonna be like, You wanna get lunch or a drink? and I'd be like sure, and he'd be like, lemme team you up with some great musical writer to finish this play, and I'm like, great, then I meet the guy or girl, and we write the play, then more stuff happens.  I got it all planned out.
    25th paragraph.  Or, someone big shot comes across my blog, wants me to write for slate.com.  I also got that avenue all planned out.  Anyway, what the what.  And then, in either of those two scenarios, I make some great hand gestures while my life pans out in a real positive direction.  What else.  I don't know.  Crap and stuff.  Have the urge to go for 30 paragraphs.  Even though I'm pretty much hitting a wall or on the verge of hitting a wall.  What to do.  I really don't know.  Probably crap and stuff, either way.  If I do short paragraphs, that makes it easier.  I crunched the numbers and everything.
    Probably.  What else.  More Chinese Food for today and tomorrow.  That's pretty good.  It's unhealthy so you know it tastes good.  I even have half of Soup left.  I usually don't like saving soup because I'm not very good at microwaving it.  Usually get half hot enough, half cold.  I don't know what I'm doing wrong.  I'll look up Internet to see some great tips for microwaving soup.  Once I got the time.  My schedule is pretty full, what with all the fantasizing about making great hand gestures.
    27th paragraph already.  I'm doin' it!  What the what.  Four paragraphs to go and whatnot.  I guess.  Almost a full month of not drinking and dieting.  Depends on how you measure a month.  Months are, on average, more than 30.  You could argue that a month is four weeks, though.  You'd have a very strong argument.  You see a doctor, they say, see me in a month.  You make the appointment for four weeks from that day.  This discussion raises more questions than it answers, I'll admit that. 
    Crap and crap.  People going for MFAs in Creative Writing have got to be chumps, right?  You're a writer?  Write!  Probably.  Unless you got some real superstar teacher.  Then I can see it.  What else.  Some people need the motivation to write.  I'm like that.  You give me an assignment, I'll knock it out the park with some real mediocre work.  What else.  I'm pretty sure MFA in Creative Writing is basically Wonder Boys.  Seems like a good Logic to make.  Knockin' some Poker out of the park.  Good stuff, I guess.
    Two paragraphs to go.  Sweet.  I guess.  Here I've been eating bananas like a chump.  There is some debate, though.  Some people say they're not that good.  Some people do stand by the theory that they're pretty good.  I've given me a lot to think about.  The point is I wanna watch some Tales From The Crypt.  I've got the time, I've got the motivation.  I don't have the Smart TV.  Whatta jip.  Anyway.  Gotta do a little room-cleaning-maintenance.  Don't want to let it get dirty again.  Be a real Adult about it and whatnot.
    Last paragraph.  What the what.  I wonder which Rap Game contestant will throw out the first pitch of The Met Game tonight.  Nova would be great, but he's probably get more pressing engagements to make.  Just lost a huge pot to an insane suckout.  Oh well.  Crap and crap.  I wrote 30 paragraphs.  That's better than money.  I guess.  And I still have some money on Poker that could last me a little bit.  So it's all good.  Except for the fact that I may keep writing after this paragraph.  That's not good at all.  I don't care how many great hand gestures I make about it.
    If Entry is better than money, more Entry is better than more money.  I crunched the numbers and whatnot.  Crap and crap.  I missed the first pitch of The Met Game.  Damnit, better not have been King Roscoe.  I guess I can look it up online.  What else.  I could have folded on the river in that suckout hand.  It was technically and logically an option.  Mets are already losing.  Time to put it on mute.  What else and crap, now how many paragraphs am I aiming for.  A number I guess.  What else.
    32nd paragraph.  Why is this happening.  Nobody knows.  I guess.  Crap and crap.  What the what.  That sort of thing.  This is the last paragraph.  I'm calling it.  What else is there to say and whatnot.  Jeez.  I may have lost some money in poker, but I have nothing to do for a week and a half.  Gotta look at the bright side of things I guess.  Made up some ground in poker.  Time to stop the entry to stop the poker concurrently.  That sort of crap.  See ya later.

-7:43 P.M.


Thursday, April 6, 2017

I'ma Do Something As Soon As I'm Finished Doing Nothing

    Hello.  It's a new month.  Great.  New format.  Wonderful.  Same ol' words.  Alright.  Week and a half vacation!  It's about time and crap.  Lost another few pounds.  Down roughly 12 or 13 pounds now overall.  Right around the weight of being overweight instead of obese.  That'll show 'em.  Great.  Had some more ideas about potential musical.  I can make it a whole one act play.  Or a three act play.  Or never do any of it.  Or do one or two songs to share with Class and stop there.  Lots of possibilities is the point.  Had a great idea how to work on songs with my 8 track.  Hook it up to my mini-handheld amplifier.  No more earphones for me!  That'll show 'em.
    Great.  What else is great.  Looks like I'm gonna pass Environment with flying colors.  Also, if you're experiencing flying colors, have a doctor check you out for synesthesia.  Which Microsoft Frontpage doesn't recognize as a word for some reason.  Great.  What else is great.  Hopefully ordering my TV this weekend.  I'll be able to watch TV with the best of 'em.  What else is crappening.  Hopefully get my electronical guitar fixed, too.  The point is Gotta Do Something.  What else.  Don Rickles died.  I feel like I should look him up on youtube for laughter purposes.  I just watched him in Tales From The Crypt.  Now he's in a Crypt.  I somehow feel responsible.
    Somehow.  Sure.  He's making fun of Jesus now.  The insult comic's dream.  Jesus seems like he can take a joke, though, it's all in good fun.  There was that time he was crucified.  Sometimes you just have to laugh at what life throws your way.  Registered for my 2 summer classes and 2 fall classes.  Then it's See You In Hell School.  I guess.  Wha, I have to go to "See You In Hell" School?  What do they even teach?  How to say See You In Hell, seems pretty straightforward.  How to say it, when to say it, what the purpose of saying it is.  Lots of stuff to learn.
    Great.  Fourth paragraph.  Play Professor won't be around the last 2 weeks of class.  Substitute Professor.  Guy I had for Creative Writing.  Wonderful.  I'm sick of Professor saying everything directly to me.  Always looking at me.  There's only so much nodding a guy can do.  I need a new move.  Start giving him two thumbs up when he's talking.  Discretely.  Under the desk.  Can't let anyone else in the class know what's going on.  Sure.  What else.  Of 5 quizzes in Environment, teacher drops the lowest grade.  Lowest grade of first four quizzes gonna be a 76.  I'm still probably gonna study for the fifth test, though, like a chump. 
    Whatta waste of time.  Learnin' stuff.  What gives.  Watching Mets this season is pretty good.  I don't even care if they lose a game, because I know the next game they have a great pitcher going with a great lineup.  Always looking forward to the next game.  They got team building figured out, boy.  I like the part where they're potentially good at baseball.  What else.  Can't get the melody for song for play I started writing on bus ride home out of my head.  Whatta run-on sentence.  I'm already sick of it.  That's a good sign, right?
    Jeez.  I believe now it's four weeks since I've had a drink.  That's roughly a month.  Boy am I thirsty, though.  That's how that goes.  Flying Colors isn't synesthesia.  They're both images.  Let's get on the same page about it.  It's micro-synesthesia.  Synesthesia within the sense of vision.  Let's talk about it.  I'm sick of teachers going to me, Hey, you didn't do this assignment, you should do it for points.  I didn't do the assignment for a reason, okay?  Didn't think it was worth it.  Now I have to, though.  I'd look like a real jerk if I don't do it now.  Whatta bullshit.
    Seventh paragraph.  What the what.  I'll be 155 pounds by May.  145 pounds by June.  135 pounds by July.  125 pounds by August.  115 pounds by September.  Then it's time to stop.  That's how that goes.  So, even without anything else, that's a good use of an entire half-year of my life.  That's my current projections, anyway.  I've lost 12 pounds in four weeks, but I'm giving myself a little room for leeway, and considering the further you go, the more it takes to lose a pound.  Got it all figured out.  Eat bananas.  Apples.  Carrots.  Small portions of meals.  It makes me feel like I'm doin' a Productive each and every day.  Good stuff.
    Eighth paragraph.  Coolio.  I started entertaining the idea, Hey, I could write a funny offbeat musical loosely based on my life, then people will like me.  Gettin' ahead of myself, though.  One thing at a time.  And the one thing right now is this entry and crap.  What the what. Most of the music I write in general is offbeat.  Not in the good way.  All comin' together.  Great.  I don't know.  What the what.  Have to see a Play by myself for class.  At first I was like, I don't wanna go in the city alone to see a play.  Then I was like, OF COURSE I wanna go into the city alone to see a play.  I get to go to Penn Station Twice!  Ride the LIRR twice!  Walk around to some extent!  Sit next to fancy people watching Play.  Sounds good to me!
    Alright, what the what.  First, primary idea I had for Play Song was the first song of the play, which I started working on in both lyrics and music.  Can't do that in class, though.  For one, two or three tracks of music.  For another, multiple characters.  I feel like I could record myself doing multiple characters, but it would be hard in person.  Second song I came up with I could probably do in class.  Just one guy with one track of music.  That'll impress everyone to the nth degree.
    Great.  I didn't realize how fat I was till I started losing weight.  Great.  Eatin' healthy.  Avoiding carbohydrates.  I learned in Environment that in the absence of carbohydrates, the body burns fat.  Sounds good for me.  Hopefully not too high a level of combustion in burning the fats, though.  I don't want to spontaneously combust.  It takes the lives of too many people as it is.  I don't know if that counts as spontaneous, though.  There's a reason.  Burning fats.
    I guess.  Jeez.  Five Years of crazysheet.net.  Remember the time I did stuff?  Memories.  Great.  I can't wait to re-watch all the Tales From The Crypt on HBOGO.  That's become my reference point for wanting the new TV.  Watchin' Tales From The Crypt.  Great. I bet we could see all the make-up and work done that the Crypt Keeper had done to look presentable.  No hidin' it now.  Anyway.  Also, 8 track no longer makes me sit on the floor, surrounding by a bunch of tangled wires, to do stuff.  On a desk now.  Clean desk.  Only wires that are needed, and they're not tangled. 
    Cool.  12th paragraph.  Wow.  I haven't preformed in front of people in a dog's age.  Which is, what, zero to twelve or thirteen years?  How many ages can a dog be.  What else.  Got the chords down for song I would do in front of class.  Good stuff.  There's like six chords overall.  That's a bunch of chords.  Apparently Roger Ebert really liked Funny Farm.  Now that I have my new phone (Note-- I got my new phone), I can wikipedia all these movies I had backed up.  I'm pretty sure when a dog reaches a certain age, they send him off to live at a Funny Farm.  Where he can run around and chase squirrels and annoy Chevy Chase.
    Right?  Right.  13th paragraph.  Pretty much all I have to fret over for Environment is Final Test.  After that, see you in Hell non-English classes.  It's funny taking this class pretty much at the moment in time we're permanently fucking the environment thanks to Trump and such.  Environment isn't the kind of thing, okay, this administration doesn't get it, but we'll get it right eventually.  We only got one shot.  Fuck it up now, there's really no going back in a lot of areas.  Funny like a Farm.
14th paragraph.  I mean, in terms of real crap happening, yeah, I'm sure humans will figure out a way to survive.  It's the rest of the planet that's fucked.  Billions of years of the planet taking care of itself, then we muck it all up in a few centuries.  Huge numbers of species going extinct.  Doesn't seem right.  Oh well, live and learn.  Crap and crap.  The good news is I'm writing songs for a musical that will never exist.  On account of me not being good enough.  Maybe if I formed a super-team with a real musician writer.  But that's getting ahead of myself. 
    15th paragraph.  Cool.  Thinking about getting Chinese Food for dinner.  Pretty unhealthy.  But I could split it up into at least 3 meals.  Maybe 4.  That's not bad.  You can eat crap all you want, as long as its in small portions.  That's my philosophy.  Turns out a single plain M'n'M is 4 calories.  I could have like 3 M'n'Ms at a time to hold me over.  That's 12 calories.  I crunched the numbers and such.  I was hoping to trick someone from my Play Class to see a Play with me, but I never got up the nerve to ask, and now it's too late.  Gotta do it over the week off for some reason. 
    16th paragraph.  Whatta bullshit.  Met Game tonight.  That's somethin' to do.  Productive and whatnot.  Still have money on poker somehow.  I play pretty mediocre.  90% of the time I play adequately, 10% of the time I stop caring and play like a fool.  Oh well, live and learn.  And 100% of the time I play at too high stakes for my roll.  Gotta spend money to make money.  Unless you have a job.  Then you just make money.  Pretty straightforward stuff and whatnot.  Another month or two and I'll be able to wear all my old favorite shirts.  There's the Maximum Fun shirt that glows in the dark.  There's the Elliott Smith shirt that says his name vertically for some reason.  The point is it's good to have stuff to look forward to.
    There's the shirt I made!  It says "All You Need Is Love."  Not bad.  That'll show people I mean business.  Hey, it's the 17th paragraph!  And I didn't lead off the paragraph with saying it!  That's a welcome change of pace.  Who knows how long this entry will be.  It may never end.  But if I never stop writing it, does the entry really exist?  Never uploaded it.  If you make an entry in a forest with no one around, does it make a sound.  That's what I'm pondering.  Was able to work around the rain today when going to and coming back from class.  That's a Win.  So Lit.  Right?
    I guess.  What the what.  Jeez.  What fun.  Probably just 20 paragraphs.  Three to go for that.  I just hit a wall.  Damn Wall, you think you're better than me?!  What else.  All in all you're just another brick in the wall.  That doesn't sound right.  I'm not a brick.  And I try to stay away from walls as a general rule.  Lots of plotholes in that lyric.  There's another idea for a song. Bouncing Off The Walls.  The title is the hard part.  So that's pretty much three songs I have in the bank.  I've got a bunch of potential song titles for this play.  I guess I'm more or less almost done writing the play.
    Cool.  Writing the first song, I did of course come to the realization This Is Retarded.  I bet Shakespeare felt the same thing.  Powered on, though.  There was just a loud thunder.  I'm scared.  Hold me.  I bet The Mets look like real jerks on HD TV.  That's my theory.  I sure hope the closed captioning is in HD, too.  Really bring the words to life.  19th paragraph.  What the what.  Hey, they might cancel the Met game.  Just put two and two together.  Which is a strange phrase.  90% of the time people say they put two and two together, they're actually putting one and one together.  To form two.  Let's talk about it.
    Putting two and two together, I'd like to see an accurate example of that.  E-mail me your Two and Two Together stories and I may put them on the website.  I guess.  20th paragraph.  I think in rained out games, they should give the win to the visiting team.  It's the home team's fault and responsibility that it's raining.  They should be punished.  That's how I feel.  I like people who pay for tickets to see fireworks shows at baseball stadiums.  You know you could just stand outside for free, right?  What's the deal with things!
    21st paragraph.  Man, 25 seems within reach.  That would be setting a dangerous precedent, though.  Oh well, live and learn.  I get a feeling we're going to war with Syria.  That'll take some of the covering of Russia away.  I wish that line of reasoning wasn't so probable.  Oh well, live and learn.  It's a very Syria-us situation.  Nailed It. Crap and crap.  I probably can't get a ride from Dad to Music Repair Shop.  I'd have to walk and take the bus like a chump.  Twice!  Whatta gip. 
    22nd paragraph.  Four to go!  I can do that hardcore probably.  One would imagine.  I saw a documentary where John Lennon met Forrest Gump and that's where he got that idea for that song.  Anyway.  I blame Forrest Gump's last name for his intelligence level.  The name Gump would drive anyone to retardedness.  That's how I feel.  When I was a kid, I never realized Bubba was at Forrest's intelligence level.  I thought he was just some guy who knew about shrimp.  Live and learn, I guess.
    Oh well.  My favorite part of Forrest Gump was when he tells his Drill Sergeant his purpose in the army is to Do Whatever He Tells Him To and the Drill Sergeant is like You're a God Damn Genius!  Alright!  Score one for Forrest Gump.  I'm just real proud of him, that's all.  Anyway, crap and crap.  Two and a half paragraphs to go.  Then some quality Lying In Bed time.  I feel I might be able to stretch a General Tso's Chicken with Pork Fried Rice and a soup into 4 meals.  But if I get a side of shrimp dumplings, that makes it a lot more likely and easier.
    These are the days of my lives.  24th paragraph.  Only three and a half more labs to do for Environment Class.  Great.  What the what.  I don't know.  Crap and stuff.  I wonder if Bartolo Colon is concerned that all the love he gets from Met Fans is/was sarcastic.  Look at that fatty do something good, what a laugh!  Probably not.  He seems like a well adjusted person who wouldn't care too much about that.  That's how I feel.  The point is what else.  New month.  Already covered that I believe.  It happens pretty often anyway. 
    Last paragraph.  That's how I do.  King Roscoe won the battle-rap challenge/episode!  I knew he would make a big push near the end.  It's anyone's game!  Except Flau'jae.  She hasn't stood out once.  And Tally.  She quit the show on the penultimate episode.  Nova, King Roscoe, Deetranada.  It's gonna be a fight to the finish.  King Roscoe winning would be a huge upset.  Anyway, crap and crap.  The point is one of them is on the fast track to superstardom.  You can't turn on a radio without hearing a Miss Mulatto track.
    One final paragraph for some reason.  Just don't feel comfortable ending it on The Rap Game commentary because I'm sure none of my two readers follow it.  They deserve better.  Watched Mighty Joe Young a couple of days ago.  That's a fourth monkey/gorilla movie I watched in the last week and a half!  I guess.  Crap and crap.  The point is I could play chords with the best of 'em.  Not really.  I'm actually pretty bad at playing chords.  It's not my strong suit.  Venom is a pretty strong suit.  He gives people powers-- evil powers.
    Last paragraph again.  Jeez.  I just wanna end it, but at the same time, I don't wanna end it.  I guess.  I listened for my songs on Phone a couple days ago after going close to a month without listening to my past songs at all.  They sure are terrible.  Better than nothing, though.  I feel like, if the situation arose, I could put on a song for someone that'll make them think I'm pretty adequate.  I've got a couple of adequate songs out of 200 terrible ones.  The point is one more paragraph for each year I'm alive.  No, just one more paragraph for one year.  Overall amount of paragraphs for years I've been alive.
I've been alive 28 years.  Give or take.  Hopefully give.  That's good karma.  You're giving, you're a good guy.  You're taking, shame on you.  I don't know.  Another reason I keep prolonging the entry is that I'm not done smoking cigarettes.  I feel like I'm done now.  Maybe one more.  That's how I feel.  I guess.  New SNL this weekend.  I like the part where they make me laugh.  That's how I feel.  Why is Santa Claus keeping account of when we're sleeping and when we're awake.  Doesn't he have anything better to do than obsess over our sleeping habits.  Do I have to do 30 paragraphs now.  It would only be two more.
    I don't have to do anything.  But I will.  Because I like doing stuff.  I get in the habit of doing stuff for class, I can't just turn that off immediately.  Gotta do stuff for Website.  The point is I'm definitely done after these last two paragraphs.  Definitely Done hardcore.  I suppose.  I'm up five dollars in poker today.  Kickin' some poker in the nuts.  Alright.  Just lost two dollars in poker.  Some poker just kicked me in the nuts.  Oh well, live and learn.  What else.  I gotta work on my whistling technique.  Most people either whistle by blowing out or sucking in.  I alternate.  It's fun, and an interesting route to take it, but I feel it's not allowing me to whistle quite to my God Given Potential.
    Last paragraph.  I also don't know how to whistle with two fingers in my mouth how some people do it.  This is very relevant and whatnot.  The point is almost done for sure.  Now that I cleaned up all the surfaces of crap in my room, I have a notepad right next to my bed, easily accessible.  I'ma write stuff down like a real writer.  Notes and stuff.  That's how I roll.  What else.  Passover is coming up.  It's Matzoh season.  I like eating Matzoh.  It's like, You know, I feel like eating something I don't really like.  Gotta mix it up, you know?  That's how I feel.  I'll see ya later.

-5:52 P.M.