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Thursday, July 30, 2015


    Ran into crazy Asian girl while waiting for the bus again.  Well, sat into her. I feel like I know you somewhere.   Yeah, it was here.  A week ago.  No, before that.  Where did you go to high school? Stuy.  Me too, what year?  08.  I was 06.  Looking back, probably met her in hospital.  Or, she thinks all white people look the same.  Someone was trying to sell his music CD at the gas station.  Sorry I really can't.  Good Luck, though!  I made sure to frame my denying buying his CD around encouraging him to continue his artistly pursuits.  Also, there's a decent chance those CDs were blank.  He did offer to give me one for four cigarettes. Whatta deal!  I should have just told him I was a musician too, and that we swap.  Either way, anyway.  I like sneaking soda into the library.  I'm a real bad ass.  That's great.  I wanna say her name is Janie.  She told me her name, but I can't remember.  If it was Janie though, yeah, rings a bell.  That reminds me of a knock-knock joke I thought on my way home.  Knock, knock.  Whose there? Your doorbell's broken.  I'm an idiot.  Either way, great.  App where the sound is knock, knocking when someone calls you from outside your house.  I'm a genius.  Either way, great.  Whatta weekend do I have in store.  Gotta put my thoughts on group presentation into a script to read.  That's about it.  I like working off the cuff, but my partner, he can't be reasoned with.  I'll go along with what he wants, I don't wanna cause no trouble.
    Alright, man, you know Power Point.  Let's move on with our lives.  The cute/smart girl, yesterday, asked me what the time was near the end of the class.  She's gotta have a phone, right?  She wanted to talk to me.  I'm the greatest.  And, for a solid two seconds, my heart was aflutter.  This is what dreams are made of!  Then me saying, "Seven... Fifty Eight."  Wonderful.  From now on, when it's 3:00, I'm gonna say, It's half past Chinese Dentist.  Wonderful.  Mets frucked shit up.  Oh well, if that's their prerogative, who am I to argue.  Tryin' to sell me music.  You know what, I'll do better than a swap.  We each pay each other two dollars for each other's music.  That's fair.  Anyway.             


Wednesday, July 29, 2015

Titles Are Great

    That's how I feel about things. Anyway, hey.  It's been a week since last entry.  Chickity China.  It's the Chinese chicken.  Oh I get it.  Not really.  Either way, Hello!  A week left of Summer Class.  Gotta do a group presentation.  You know what that's like, right?  It's when you work with a partner or partners to present information to an audience.  Glad we cleared that up.  Either way, Hi!  I can't talk for fifteen minutes about a poet.  She wrote some crap.  Sorta like in-between different classifications of crap.  Not so much one way or the other.  A- Please.  I'm not greedy, I'll settle for the Minus.  Remember in Star Wars when greedy shot first?  Cause I don't.  I never saw that crap!  The main thing I know about Star Wars when in the Nintendo 64 game, you have to fly a ship to move on to the next level, and I never figured out how to fly the ship.  Oh, the hours I would spend trying to make sense out of it.  Also, when I picture the game, with the ship, I just picture my house and the ship is in my backyard.  Which is mostly a parking lot.  So it makes sense that a ship would be there, as far as I'm concerned.  Turok.  There's another game I never finished.  Why do we have to kill dinosaurs?  What'd they ever do to you?
    Anyway.  Great, just great.  Maybe dinosaurs built Stonehenge.  Solved that mystery.  the monolith came down, the raptors were like, We gotta build some shit.  Good, contribute something to dinosaur society.  More power to ya.  If 2001 was made today, all the apes would be... what's his name?  Aaron Sorkin.  There, that's it.  No, it's like Jason Sudeikis.  That's it.  Andy Milonokis.  Gotta be it, right?  Andy Serkis.  There we go.  The good news is it took up space to go through that.  Just like the monolith.  Cracked that code.  The kissing disease, am I right?  Probably-- it's nearly almost relevant.  Let's move on and crap.  The Mets are losing.  I ain't gonna watch that.  I'm no chump.  Wha, the Mets got Carlos Gomez?  I renounce my chumpdom!  I'm back on board!  For most of this trading season, I was against trading Wheeler, but, shit, he's out of commission until 2017 anyway.  It's a good deal!  The lineup Just.  Got.  Serviceable.  This is exciting crap.  And if he's anything like Carlos from The Magic School Bus, this team just got a strong dose of personality. 
    Yeesh.  What crap.  I remember watching Magic School Bus and Bill Nye in school.  Shouldn't you be teaching me?  I can watch T.V. at home.  Except I'd probably just be watching out of control teenagers on Maury.  Hey, a kid's got to have role models.  Specifically science class, if I rememeber correctly.  In elementary school, each day of the week, there was one forty minute period we had gym, or science, or music.  Everything else was the same teacher, but I remember, forty minute science class?  Throw on a VHS of Magic School Bus.  That's enough science to last a whole week.  We might have had Gym every day.  I forget.  What am I, some master reminiscer?  I wish.  I might just be thinking of playing freeze tag during the recess portion of lunch.  That's probably it.  I wanna watch Carlos Gomez Right Now.  He's got 30/30 homerun/steal potential!  Just look at the guy and imagine him hittin' homeruns and stealin' bases at the same time.  It's a cream dream!  Did he come up in the Mets system as a prospect?  I wanna say yes.  I also wanna check the internet for verification.  That's the wise way to go.  Yep, Mets.  Watch him get injured in a week.  Sure!  As long as he's potential 30/30 player, I'll watch him get injured.  Anything he does is bumped up a notch.
    That's how I feel about things.  I'm eating dinner soon.  Get off my back!  The conclusion of the entry will have to wait.  I love floss.  I went to the dentist last week, got a goodie bag with some floss, and I've really been enjoying myself.  Just have it next to the computer, when I feel like it, start some flossin'.  Compared to biting my nails, it's a pretty healthy OCD tic/habit.  Also, I'm still biting my nails.  Well, I gotta floss something!  Also, I just had dinner.  Get off my back!  We also gave up Wilmer Flores.  Who I believe is related to Brandon Flowers.  Because I'm stupidity embodied.  My consistent thoughts on Wilmer Flores?  He could be good... one day.  Probably not today.  For a middle infielder, he's pretty good at hitting, with potential to get better.  We wish him luck as we do all relatives of The Killers.  That first album had a bunch of good songs.  I listened to that a lot in my heyday.  Also, apparently I had the U.K. version, going through the track listing.  That's a quotable notable.  Except, with the lone U.K. difference song, I had the name wrong.  Someone's gotta be held accountable for this!  I blame the torrent uploader I illegally downloaded the music from.  Maybe I had the Scottish version with the name right.  I'm no expert.
    Anyway, great.  Good chance this'll be the last entry of July.  That's okay.  I hear August is pretty good, too.  When I went to get whisky last week, the clerk was like, Oh, you don't want this, try this new thing, it's much smoother.  And, I got it.  And, you know what?  Much smoother.  Too smooth.  I lose track of how much I'm drinking because, as far as my taste buds are concerned, I'm not even drinking.  #JBSmoove.  If it was Jim Beam that'd be a pretty good pull.  As it is, crap.  Wait a second!  It's John Barr!  JBSMOOVE IS BACK ON!   Whatta celebration day.  John Barr is a complicated web of surname lies that Roseanne has with her on-air husband.  That's how I feel about things.  Anyway, great. Whatstha lineup gonna be like.  Oh, the possibilities!  One of the poems I'm doin' my group presentation is called Possibilities.  Can you narrow it down, at all?  I gotta spend five minutes talkin' about this crap!  You're not making my job any easier.  The only think I know for sure is she's not making a pun and talking about her posse.  Or, her pussy.  Maybe she is.  I don't know.  If it has to be one of those, though, I hope it posse.  That's how the word is pronounced in real life.  One of the first lines is, I like cats.  Honestly.  I guess I cracked that code too, now.  Would that translate from Polish, though?  Who knows for sure.  How many Polish people does it take to screw in a light bulb?  I don't know.  Me neither, I was hoping you could tell me.  One to screw it in, and one to be the light bulb!  It makes sense if you don't really think about it.  See ya later.

-10:03 P.M.                              


Tuesday, July 21, 2015

Why Are You Talking To Me?

    Cause no one else is around, jerk.  I was waiting for the bus and some Asian student just started talking to me.  Probably high on those jazz cigarettes.  Ah, Company!  The good news is I made my way back home.  The bus said Next Bus Please but they still stopped and I got on.  Playin' hard to get, are we?  The important thing is I made my way back home.  I saw my friends and said Hello and they didn't look up they probably just didn't notice me right.  Yeah, that's probably it.  Put my earphone back on.  What class are you taking what major are you.  Put my earphones off.  English, English.  Put earphones back on.  You don't think I'm weird do you.  Put earphones back off.  Nah, you're okay Earphones back on.   I couldn't get on that teaser bus fast enough.  She did have a point though, in one of her paranoid rantings.  She did try to get on two different buses that were supposed to stop and they just didn't.  Why did that happen was it just me?  Maybe they used their bus-senses to know not to let on the lunatic.  And, of course, me being me, I justified being engaging with her on the off chance she'll give me some of that sweet dope she's on.  Anyway, home sweet home.
    I guess I'm just supremely approachable.  That's the only logical assumption to be made.  I don't wanna write another paper for this class.  I got an 84 on the last one!  Gotta go out on top.  That paper, I believe, was what 1984 was about.  Probably.  What else is going on.  I just ate dinner.  That's pretty good news.  Teeth still work.  What a relief.  Write another paper.  Pshh.  What am I, an English major?  I should ask high Asian lady for confirmation.  We oughtta stay in touch.  I forgot to ask for her e-mail.  One things clear, though, she needs to get some new friends.  These jerks have no manners, and, frankly, are not a good influence on her.  I even suspect they might be giving her drugs.  Someone is.  Or she was just having a nervous breakdown.  Either way, New Friend Accomplished.  She sat down where the green peppers were.  Gotta imagine they woulda cleaned that up at some point over that 24 hours, though.  I wish I had more confidence to pee in public, on streets.  Sometimes I just got to go, but, no, I gotta wait till I get home, like a chump.  Just let it flow!  It's a free country.  No Taxation without Pee Instigation.  It almost makes sense because it slant rhymes.  Hey, your eyes slant rhyme with each other, I could have said to Asian lady.  Because I'm an insensitive prick!  No Taxation without Urination.  You'd think I coulda figured that one out the first time around.
    Yeesh.  The busses really weren't stopping for her, though.  Maybe she had burned them in the past, gettin' on busses without paying for them.  That's the most logical explanation.  I love bus strategy.  Gettin' on a full bus, where do you stand?  Gotta think about whose gonna get off first.  Exactly what time do you hit the yellow line?  Wanna leave enough time for the bus driver to process it.  Can't hit it too early, though, that's a no brainer.  Figure out how to get out of the door in the back.  I like to think I have enough bus experience to know exactly how that door opening works, but, to be honest, it's always a surprise.  Do I touch the door?  Push it open a little?  Or does it open on its own?  I've been burned, before, getting it open, and figuring it would remain open/open a little more.  Then the door closes on the old man behind me and I look like an asshole.  But, if I pushed it open with all my might, the other passengers would lose respect for me, cause I don't think that's what you're supposed to do.  Gotta sorta half ass it.  Touch the door gently, open it a little...
    Wha?  This is good stuff.  That's why I get off in the front half the time.  They specifically say, Please use the backdoor, but, fuck, I gotta go with what works.  I like it when the bus takes right turns.  Jeez, no way are they gonna pull this off!  And then they do.  Whatta relief!  I don't like it going parallel to the expressway.  The things to the left are so close, yet so far.  I experience separation anxiety, and I don't even know what that means.  Anyway, what else is going on.  Bought a new 1/4 stereo jack so I could start using the 8 track again.  Hopefully that's the right thing to buy, to plug my earphones in.  I've been burned before, not knowing exactly what I need.  I ain't no audio technician.  That kind of technology fascinates me.  Even in the early 20th century, records.  You mean the music is in the fuckin' GROOVES of this disc?  No fuckin' way.  How did you pull that off?  Telephones.  HOW IS THIS HAPPENING!  YOU FUCKIN TALKING MILES AWAY, AND I HEAR IT, INSTANTANEOUSLY... THROUGH WIRES?  No fuckin' way.  Radio.  ...SAME PREMISE?!!
    The good news is it's the last paragraph.  Even stuff from the last few decades.  Playin' Street Fighter II... How did you program such adequate AI?  I don't get it.  I thought computers were just 00 and 01.  Somewhere, someone did 0001000100010110 and that meant to back away when I jump at you and punch.  It's madness.  I remember I used to think faxing was literally sending the same piece of paper long distances.  Well, sort of half-thought it.  I didn't think about it that much, to be honest, but in my head, that's sort of how it worked.  Does that mean it's not actually your voice on the phone?  I refuse to believe it!  Yeesh.  I used some fax machines in my life time.  Workin at the Geriatric Nursing center at NYU, in 2008, still used to faxing technology.  Guess since their work involved old people, might as well go with some old technology.  To make the geriatrics feel more comfortable about the whole bit.  New picture of Earth in the news.  Since when did Earth start taking Selfies?  Boom, topical joke.  We all photo bombed that one.  Well, half of us, more or less.  Also, why were we waiting so long for another picture of the Earth?  Seems like something they should be taking all the time, just to make sure nothin' funny is goin' on.  North America seems to be the star of the photo.  We're #1!  That's what I take away from this news story. 
    Anyway, one more paragraph and crap.  I'm still waiting for the rockets that go past the speed of light, to get us some photos of dinosaurs.  I wanna see dinosaurs!  That's scientifically sound, right?  I hope so, because it's a thought I've had since I was in middle school.  We can see fuckin' Jesus.  See what that dude was really up to.  Anyway, whatever.  I can see Michael Crichton writing Jurassic Park!  What dreams may come.  How come some handicapped toilets are considerably lower than average, while some are considerably higher?  One of them has got to be more convenient, that's why they do it.  They can't both be more convenient.  Unless there's different kinds of handicapped people, and they can only choose one kind per bathroom.  Which seems kind of exclusive to me.  Me, I make do with what I got.  Try to make the best out of any situation.  Anyway, see ya later.

-10:50 P.M.                                     


Tuesday, July 21, 2015

My Entry Is Down Here

    How would you know.  I know you; just readin' the titles and then goin' on your merry way.  I'm on to your games!  Anyway, Hi.  I shaved myself with my new razor for the second time.  Ten seconds!  Then I was on my merry way.  It's that simple.  Anyway, I had to eat dinner at the bus stop, like some sort of chump.  There's an old Asian lady who may or may not have been one of my professors several years ago, who hovers back and forth around the bus stop, about every time I'm there, looking like crap and smelling like garbage.  It's probably just a look-alike, but I like to imagine things really took a wrong turn for this lady.  I don't know why.  Maybe it's just cause I had to drop out of the class after a couple of weeks, and I associate her with that crap.  Either way, whatever.  I had my pizza box on one of the three seats in Bench, and I took it off for her to sit, and I guess a green pepper or two fell off my pizza, because I could see her think for a second whether she wanted to sit down or not.  She decided to sit down.  It's that Devil-May-Care attitude that got her into this garbage lifestyle in the first place!  She still hasn't learned her lesson, unfortunately.  That's mostly why I get pizza, when it comes down to it.  To test whether people feel comfortable sitting on green peppers.
    Anyway, what a joy it is to be here.  I've grown rather accustomed to the place.  That's how I feel about things.  They say that eyes are the window to the soul.  That's why Terminator wore those sunglasses.  To be inconspicuous.  That's how I feel about things.  Great.  I have an old copy of Baseball America from 2004.  That'll be worth something in negative eleven years.  Gotta hold on to all this crap!  They were showing the newest planet of the apes movie on cable, and at first I thought it said, Down With The Planet of the Apes.  Finally!  A very appropriate hip-hop makeover for a classic film franchise!  If they can make two Leprechaun movies urban-flavored, they gotta be able to do at least one for other film franchises.  Let's see if I can come up with some examples, for laughs and yuk-yuks! ...  Well, you can... hmm.  What if... ergh.  What else is going on.  They even made a Leprechaun in Space.  What if Planet of the Apes were space... the... m...  oh, right.  Ergh.  Anyway, huh?  What else is going on.  What crap do I got coming up.  Three more weeks of this class.  Two classes in fall.  Probably make it to 2016.  Then all over again!  Hopefully I don't lose any more of my marbles and start hanging around bus stops 24/7 covered in filth.  That would be an unfortunate change of events.  More or less.  I don't get the expression lost his marbles.  Really?  A healthy brain is akin to an abundance of marbles?  Doesn't sound healthy to me.  You're way off! 
    How wonderful.  I think I walked into a spider web after leaving my house to go to class.  I felt it on my arm and immediately broke down going, I submit, I submit!  These spiders don't play no games.  It's no time to be a hero.  Yeesh.  What else and crap.  I had to go to Library today for class.  Don't mean to brag.  What's all these books?  What?  Huh?  Don't know where I was going with that.  And thank God I didn't get there.  Queens College has an epidemic of bathrooms whose doors are standardly open.  Wha, that's not supposed to happen!  Standardly is a word, who spell check think its foolin'.  Anyway, yeah.  Jeez, I can't stop playing Street Fighter II on archive.org.  Why would anyone voluntarily stop playing Street FIghter II.  I probably am just liking it so much because I wanna be like the cool kids were.  Playin' their arcade games,  oh, that cool crowd.  I'm so bad at this, I'm playing it for free and somehow already lost 43 dollars.  I like how every three lvels, you have to destroy a car for some reason.  Just thirty seconds of beating the shit out of a car.  Dunno what that's about.  That's why I brought it up.  Didn't know what it was about.   
    Anyway, I took a piss break and lost all my progress.  That seems about right.  See ya later.

-1:07 A.M.


Thursday, July 16, 2015



Gimme Five

    Hey.  Writing an entry before class today, because I'm dyslexic.  And I'm also dyslexic in knowing the definition of words.  What a big dyslexic.  Anyway, hi!  Most likely gonna see Antman after class in Good Movie Theater.  Because I like to have fun.  What else is new.  Listend to a few Daniel Johnston songs in a row, and it took me right back to Summer 08.



I'm Good At Titles

    Hey friends.  Inbetween class and Antman.  Don't ever come between class and Antman!  A match made in somewhere.  Anyway.  What else and crap.  Gotta get it together.  There was a bee while waiting for the bus!  It seems my luck has taken a turn for the worse.  But me and the guy sitting next to it made small chuckles about it.  New Best Friend made!  So it wasn't a total loss.  Anyway.  I don't get the point of autographs.  That's how that dude writes... his name!  Fascinating stuff.  I don't get the point of cursive.  Print is obviously better in each and every way.  That's not just how I feel, that's a fact.  Anyway.  I was writing potential song titles in class, as I'm wont to do, and was like, "These song titles would make a really good album, if I were an Asshole!"  That kind of stuff.  It's getting dark outside.  Who could have predicted such a turn of events?  Not me.  Anyway.  Yeesh.  I gotta stop talking about class, in case someone ends up reading it.  I can't take that kind of chance.  I also have to stop listening to Bruce Springsteen.  What if someone finds out?  Anyway, yeesh.  What else is going on.  Drinking a beer in relatively plain sight.  I don't seen no plainclothes men, what's the worst that could happen.  That's kind of the idea.  Is it?  I only know the phrase from the Heatmiser song, and for years I just thought it was a super hero whose power was wearing regular clothes. 



    I don't get why the Eskimo kiss exists.  Has mouth-to-mouth technology not reached the Inuits in Alaska?  Maybe that's the epitome of Tantric sex.  Rubbin' noses.  I don't know, who am I to say.  So, I just saw Trainwreck.  Felt like an asshole the whole time.  Well, halfway between feeling like an asshole and being pissed off by tthe real assholes.  Who were the old people sitting next to me.  I was pissing every twenty minutes, as I'm wont to do, and they were fucking assholing at me every time I walked by them.  There he goes again, and not in like a pleasant, jokey way.  In a FUCK YOU ASSHOLE, FOR WALKING BY ME way.  And I'm apologizing profusely, they don't care.  I even, my seat was at the end, and there's a little space between the seat and the wall, so I tried walking down to the row behind me, and even from the back, the old lady... now in front of me... THERE HE GOES AGAIN.  WHAT THE FUCK I AIN'T EVEN TOUCH YOU.  Would you rather me pee in my large diet coke?  I'll do it, if that's what you want.  I have a feeling that's not what you want, though.  Anyway, I guess the answer is to start carrying a pee bag with me.  It's the only way.  
Why does Friday Night have no title.  Where is justice.  Having to piss every twenty minutes isn't as fun as it sounds.  Psychologically, it probably makes it harder for me to commit my attention to activates of medium to long length.  Class?
 I'll take two or three piss breaks, structure the class around that.  I'm never really in the moment, because that moment is about to take a change.  A bathroom change.  At least I'm getting really good at urinal.  You mean you have to use your hands?  There, it's 60% of a joke.  I'd finish it, but gotta take a bathroom break.  There's gotta be an app for that, or something.  Technology these days, am I right?  Trainwreck was pretty good.  I assume I would have appreciated it more if I was now or ever had been in a relationship.  You know, that kind of crap.  I also would have appreciated it more if I wasn't thinking about my upcoming and current urination schedule for 80% of the movie.  And don't even get me started on the guy waiting behind me at the concession stand, insisting on standing less than two inches behind me.  Every time I move up, I hope he doesn't move up 100% to follow me to that insane degree.  He always did, though.  When I was finally ordering, they thought he was with me at first.  Don't even get me started!  There you go, you got me started.  Now I'm finished.
Anyway, what a joy.  The good news is who cares.  Windin' down.  Gotta introduction and one supporting paragraph of an essay due next Thursday.  It's gonna be great.  Anyway, what else.  Friday night only has three more minutes to it.  It's as if God doesn't want me to write a fifth paragraph.  Or, I started too late.  Probably because of God.  See ya later.

-11:57 P.M.                


Wednesday, July 15, 2015

Thanks For Coming Down

    Hey friends.  Let's get entryin' with it.  I had a memory of thought which I now forgot.  Did it have to do with pot?  I kind of hope not.  Don't put me on the spot.  I helped two people at bus stop today.  Two!  What am I, some sort of hero?  Does the 88 stop here?  Yup!  Does the 88 stop at Arbys?  Yup!  Just glad to do my part.  Also, whatever.  Teacher needed location on where the Dunkin Donuts is?  Done and done.  Surprisingly somewhat-attractive and my-age lady down the block wants a cigarette?  You got it!  Is it Menthol?  I hope you like pleasant surprises, because, Yes, It Is!  It's just one of those days everyone's buyin' what I have to offer.  Even when I got beer, gas station man was making small talk with me, telling me to, "Enjoy the beer!" as I was leaving.  I'm puttin' out some serious good vibes, I guess.  Didn't come off as an invalid in class discussion!  Back in business.  Even making good comments when I don't even know it.  I don't get what this title is in reference to.  ... ... Neither do I!, says teacher,  Let's talk about that for the last third of the class!  It's just that simple.  Well, I am pretty much an expert in the field of titles.  Don't tell her that, though.  Would sorta cheapen the brilliance.
    Anyway, hey.  Ides of July.  Which I think is pretty significant, it being Julius Caesar's month.  Finally we're gonna get his side of the story, oh boy.  Anyway.  I've come to bury Caesar, not to praise him!  You don't need to bury him, we got grave diggers for that.  Why don't you go inside and have a nice cup of hot chocolate.  Et Tu, Brutes? is kinda like the first reverse Hero's Catchphrase.  It's inverted.  It's the victim/villian's catch phrase.  Gotchu Suckers.  Et Tu, Kit?  Get back in your chubby rain and leave.  I remember in Gladiator, the main euphoric memory Crowe keeps going back to is lying in the grass, or something.  I haven't seen it in a while.  But he's always like, Remember those golden days, lying down in a field or something, maybe my Wife was there, I don't know, the grass sure was nice.  That's something I can get behind.  Grass is pretty nice.  Is lawn grass genetically engineered to not catch aflame if I drop a lit cigarette?  You'd think so.  I had a thought a while back, if you take a bath in drinking alcohol, would you get drunk?  Seems like you'd absorb some of that through your skin.  Definitely through your orifices, but my main wonder-contention is whether it'll seep into your pores.  Only one way to find out.  I just wish I knew that one way.  That would make figuring it out that much more simple.
    I think it was in Argo that they describe the deposed-ruler's wife bathing in milk.  I remember while watching it, I was like, what a huge waste of money!  But now, I'm like, milk?  That's not that expensive.  Go nuts.  It coulda been some sort of expensive milk, though.  Who knows.  Soy Milk, Brutes?  It's funny because all other languages are the same.  Anyway, huh?  This semesters class is halfway through.  I give it a solid 84/100.  Hey, you get what you give.  In what other ways am I a hero.  European guy got an iced coffee today, saying he was inspired by me.  I'm a role model to these kids, folks.  This is the way it's done.  You get an iced coffee, you go to class, try not to step on any of my supreme insights, and we'll all get through the day okay.  I'm a trendsetter, okay?  Teacher knows what's up.  Where is the Dunkin Donuts?  She can barely contain herself.  Also, she uses projector for notes, and writes the notes in a word document.  She spells a third of the words wrong upfront, and leaves about a third of those wrong for the entirety of the class.  I thought you were an English.  I could do better English than you!  I crossed a line, there.  Feelings are gonna get hurt.
    Anyway, yeesh.  She's a good teacher, though, good class.  Everyone's pullin' their weight.  I think I got into about five arguments with cute-smart girl today.  Usually regular classes in the fall and spring are 75 minutes.  NOT ALWAYS.  That sort of thing.  We also got into two or three agreements.  That's notable.  Even bus drivers today were like, "What's up, my man?"  I'm taking riding the bus to a whole different level.  It's a social experience we all gotta take full advantage of, as far as I'm concerned.  One thing is, the automated voice always says, "Please leave through the backdoor."  Cut the crap!  I see people leaving through the front door all the time!  Don't try to shame me into doing it your backward way.  I'm goin' out the same way I'm comin' in, that's the way I roll.
    Anyway, another entry.  Great.  Why was I googling Nosferatu?  That doesn't sound right.  That's gotta be the scariest movie since the one where it looks like a train is about to hit you.  I've always been confused by the idea of the silent movie.  They have a soundtrack.  They play music the entire movie.  Just use that technology on voices!  I mean, there's gotta be some sort of reason they couldn't do that.  But, no, they could have.  And someone's gotta be held responsible.  I blame The Birth of a Nation.  Which I want to Google to see if I got the title right, but don't want to google and end up on some list somewhere.  Well, I was right.  And, even if I'm not on a list somewhere, that's something my search history won't soon forget.  The Girth of a Nation.  Fatties.  Punn'dit.  Anyway.  Another entry.  And soon, sleep.  See ya later.

-10:22 P.M.                      


Tuesday, July 14, 2015

How Do I Look

    Hey friends.  It's me, the guy who types things.  Readable on the internet?  You know, that kind of crap.  Got a grade for my first paper.  84/100!  That's so close to B territory, it's not even funny.  Well, it's a little funny.  I find 1% to be the most hilarious of the percents, don't you?  Percents of precincts reporting.  Sounds like a tongue twister every election.  Precincts are final tallies, not reported in percents.  You're not reported in precincts!  Get out of my blog!  Anyway, 84!  And the European who can speak English relatively goodly only did 2 points higher than me!  I've been subliminally trained by American media and culture to dislike Europeans.  I want to like him, sure.  But he's European!  Who knows what he's up to.  He's not My President.  Mostly because he's twenty and holds no political office.  Anyway, whatever.  What's new and crap.  Been keeping track of WSOP main event updates.  I'm rooting for Negreanu, cause he's a pro, Blumenfield because we're Blum buddies,  Max Steinberg because he's like Max Weinberg,  Pierre Neuville because he's old, and Patrick Chan because he's from Brooklyn.  Why isn't there a sitcom based on his life called the Negranus?  Because of the word anus?  Just another case of the Europeans who run network television keeping the hard working people down.  Negranus is a slant rhyme of gregarious.  We learned about slant rhymes a week or two back.  Also, are we sure this Negreanu character isn't Nosferato?  With a new name to trick his potential victims?  I think that's something the WSOP promoters should look into.
    Well, that was almost worth reading.  Makes me wanna write some more paragraphs.  Also, George McDonald.  I was talking to my Mom about getting a job at McDonalds, and she was like, You don't have the connections.  Sincerely.  They only give those jobs to people they know.  Oh well.  Can't get a job at Mcdonalds.  You're brother couldn't get a job there.  That was fifteen years ago!  Maybe you can get a job at Subway.  That's probably true.  They had a child molester as their spokesman for twenty years, they don't seem to take their personnel department very seriously.  That seems like something should have been prevented, right?  When interviewing spokespeople, when it comes down to it, there's pretty much only one question you need to ask. "Are you a pedophile?"  I don't wanna know what kind of sandwich he's cooking up.  Not In My Backyard!  The only future news I wanna hear on this subject is a headline in the New York Post, "Jared Raped In Prison!"  The end.  The good news is salad tossing is part of a well balanced diet.  True tidbit-- in recommending I look at Subway for job, my Mom cited one of my brother's friends who did have a job there.  His name?  Jared.  Something's not addin' up there.  I demand answers!
I guess that's their job interview.  Is your name Jared?  Anyway.  What else is going on.  Fine analysis here.  See, I did good supporting paragraphs, it's just the introduction was nonsense.  Also, when I say fine, I really mean it.  If it was just good, I don't say anything, when I say fine, I mean fine.  Dang Girl I Think You Fine Too.  That's mostly how my essay review section went.  Anyway, where am I.  I like poker terms.  Flush.  I'm Flush with excitement!  Full House.  This reminds of me The Olsen Twins!  Straight outta Compton!  Nuts!  I could go on for hours.  Back on Xanga, I mused how I wanted there to be a T.V. show called House of Jacks.  And it's three guys named Jack living together, gettin' into hijinx.  Most likely brought that up once or twice, here.  I don't care.  It's a real two pair idea.  I got two pair for ya right here!  ...Really?  You have two sets of testicles?  And scene.  What fun.  Where am I.  Most likely Jack Palance and two clones of Jack Palance.  That's the only reasonable casting choice, as far as I'm concerned.  Weekend @ Bernies that crap.  And Jurassic Park it, I guess, too.  The only reasonable way.  He already has experience playing his own twin brother, I'm tellin' ya, this is the right guy for the job.
    Anyway, what else.  DeGrom rocked that ASG shit.  Three batters faced, three strikeouts.  Thinking about Harvey and Wheeler, Snydergaard and Matz, DeGrom, brings me to the precipice of cumming.  That's baseball for ya, I guess.  I don't like it when people say, Don't quit your day job.  How many jobs does this guy think I have?  I got two night jobs, one dawn job.  Daytime is for rest you dolts.  Not sure if that joke means anything or makes sense.  Too late to question it now.  I'm pot committed to this thing!  Even though it's not really allowed, and with good reason, I recollect sometimes keeping some chips in my pocket, when playing poker with my high school friends, and calling it my "Secret Stash."  Obviously this was way out of line, but no one really seemed to mind.  It's a high school game you dolts.  Like, if they called for a count, I'd take 'em out of my pocket.  I wasn't trying to pull one over on anyone.  It was just for fun, I swear!
    Anyway, almost done with this crap.  Gotta finish this before Midnight.  I don't have the work ethic to change the date at the top!  And with my night and dawn jobs, I just don't have the time.  There's an idea for a wrist tattoo.  Anyway.  What else.  See ya later.

-11:31 P.M.          


Wednesday, July 8, 2015

Ice Road Fuckers

    Hey!  It's me.  White courier new in an all encompassing blackness.  The good news is Huh?  I forgot to take my Ritalin today.  Turned out I went through some withdrawal.  Who could have predicted taking uppers twice a day could lead to problems down the road?  I was just sitting in class, and everything was just so grating.  The plus side, though, is I can take a double dose down the line!  That's the responsible thing to do.  I can't have an extra pill laying around, I might be tempted to take it when I don't need it.  Airtight logic my friends.  I gotta come up with a detailed outline of paper for tomorrows class.  I was supposed to have it done for today's class, but, as they say, who cares.  I was listening to Iron Man on radio just now, that's a scary song.  Not as scary as Eleanor Rigby.  I remember hearing that in my freshman year of high school, every now and then, and it just scared the shit out of me.  Wearing a mask on the side of the door.  Having a funeral and Nobody Came?  So, those two songs, and 90% of Radiohead, that's music that scares me.  Anyway, where am I.  I don't like these urinals for men of average height.  Too high!  What, is my dick on my chest?  Probably not!  I would have noticed.  Also, what's the procedure on using handicapped stalls?  Are we allowed to use them at all?  Let's take some callers.
    Anyway, wha?  All the lonely people.  Well, whatever.  Also, hand blowers, the thing that blows air for you to dry your hands.  Give us some paper towels, too!  I like options!  I need something to wipe the sweat off my forehead, and the one time I ducked my head under the air blower, I felt foolish!  I could use toilet paper, I guess, like an animal.  Maybe my dick is on my chest.  Who am I to say.  I made one friend so far this semester.  I was on my way home, I got pizza, and the bus driver, when I got on, was like, You got me a slice?  And we had a good laugh about it.  The next day, on the bus to Queens College, I get on the bus, and, No Pizza?  And I was like, That's right! and we had a good laugh about it.  Then I took my seat at the back of the bus and wonder if I came off racist.  Both times.  Hell, every time.  I'm sittin' in the back of the bus, that's progressive!  We all sit where we want to now, no worries!  Real question-- were there black bus drivers in the south before Rosa Parks?  They sat as far up in the front as possible.  But, maybe there weren't.  I don't know, I'm no historian.  And if I was, my peers would be like, really, this is what you're spending your time on?  If I was a historian, I'd do work on a project called Asian People's Effect on Me.  Get right down to the nitty-gritty.
Anyway, that was yesterday.  You know how I know?  Cause I wrote it.  Today, let's see.  What's goin' on.  Paper due tomorrow, wrote 2/3rds of it in today's class.  No class tomorrow, which is kind of disappointing, because I was lookin' forward to seeing a movie at escalator/Hooters movie theater on the way back.  Ha.  Escalator.  Great.  So, for my paper, I just went with one theme and stuck to it.  It's kind of hard to justify it as the main theme, but, not my problem.  I write three pages, you give me a C, those be the rules.  The good news is what else.  I want a free hot dog on 7/11.  From my local deli.  Not from 7/11, those things are disgusting.  Anyway.  It took me half an hour to find my classroom in computer lab.  Also, we had class in a computer lab.  On account of working on our papers.  I went to the guy at the front desk three times.  He kept giving me wrong information.  I finally was like, Alright, I'm gonna go this other way.  And he was like, it's your funeral.  And it turned out to be the right place.  Also, saying it's my funeral, maybe it wasn't that extreme.  But nobody came, that part's accurate.  Anyway, what else.  Moo Shu Pork for dinner soon.  You ever get the Moo Shu Pork from Chinese take out?  Yes, I did, this time!  Ha, pork.  Chinese has some funny words.
Whatever.  I like food that I have to build myself.  Makes me feel productive.  I think, after dazzling teacher with on-the-mark comments and stuff, I've worn out my welcome by becoming increasingly more... me.  Farfetched assumptions, nonsensical observations, and just general mushmouthment.  Now whenever I say something that makes sense, you can tell she's double thinking it, with her first assumption that it's something idiotic that she'd have to dance around to be able to satiate my need for approval.  That's life for ya, I guess.  That's what I get for crazysheetin' up my regular life.  This is the life we chose.  And the worst part is there's also a cute girl in class, who, on first week, I was like, we're the smartest people in class.  And by this week, it was she's the smartest people in class.  Men don't like women smarter than them.  It makes us feel threatened!  I don't know where I was going with that, hoping to turn it into a joke, when it's clearly just a emotional/social problem I myself have.  If she's smarter than me, why bother thinking at all!  That's how I feel.  Oh well, live and learn. 
    How wonderful.  I guess.  Anyway, what else.  This month is crap.  Dorming was great.  I was all like, I'm gonna lie on this bed now!  Now, this one, six inches higher!  That's the life we all aspire towards, I feel.  I'm somewhat surprised/relieved we didn't get a phone call several days after moving out saying I stunk up the place like cigarettes and that I need to pay four hundred dollars to undo the damage.  It's possible they haven't filled the room yet and no one's been there.  I'd say two or three weeks should be enough to unstinkify the place, right?  Here's hopin'.  I assume no one will call me about my blue rubber ball.  Finders keepers, whatever low level employee charged with checkin' out the room probably found it, and didn't report it so he wouldn't have to give it up.  Anyway, see ya later.

-10:02 P.M.                               


Monday, July 6, 2015

Titlers Be Titlin'

    Probably.  I guess.  The probably was left over from last entry.  Callback!  What fun we have.  I gotta stop playing play money poker ten hours a day.  It's just a mindless exercise.  I could spend that time... doing... something?  Who knows.  Anyway.  I had to wait four minutes for cigarettes today as the cashier flirted with the... cashee?  Oh, you should come to India.  I'm not buying it!  I didn't have the heart to jump in though and ruin a love connection.  Oh, two people connecting on a personal, emotional level... EXCUSE ME, I NEED CANCER STICKS, NOW.  The other cashier in the back, not taking customers, even motioned to me, showing The Love Guru I was waiting.  But I made a gesture like, Go ahead, I can wait.  Because that's the kind of impulse person I am.  Kind!  Generous!  Patient!  These are words that describe my impulses.  Imp?  U'll See.  That's what I say to people who doubt me.  Cause of my height.  Imps are like little demons, right?  Somethin' like that.  I'll look it up on Google.  Then I'll See.  Anyway, what else is going on.  Probably crap and stuff.  I need to write a paper for Thursday.  I made a little bit of progress figuring what to write about, but it's tough.  The good news is is it doesn't matter.  There's gotta be some grammar rule that you can't say, "Is is," right?  It comes up fairly often enough, and mostly makes sense, but there's got to be a better way.  I guess I can just get rid of the, "Is," probably the second one.  But I'm an idiot, I don't feel like it.  What does it mean?  Three page paper, in my e-mail.  You have one week.  Then you have to saw off your shit, or something.
    Well, this entry is crap.  Still time to turn it around, though.  Or, pretend that it's adequate the way it is.  That's the way to go, I think.  What else is going on.  Class is going okay.  Gives some structure to my weekdays.  I guess.  I figured out what I could binge watch after the first six seasons of Parks & Rec.  The final season of Parks & Rec.  Seems like a logical progression, right?  I think so.  I watched Troll and Troll II a few weeks ago.  Campy horror movies from the 80's.  The second one is in no way connected to the first one, but it features a plot point that sounds like something I'd write when I was nine.  They're in a town called Nilbog, and two thirds through, they look in a mirror at a sign with the name of the town, and It's Goblin backwards!  Why would that ever happen.  Both plotwise, and in writing the script.  First of all, they're not goblins.  They're not really trolls either, which, maybe it's just me, I expected to see in a movie called Troll II.  Nilbog.  The screenwriter must have thought, Man, when they look through the mirror, it's gonna be a great reveal.  People are gonna be shocked!  Meanwhile, I went through the whole movie consciously thinking Nilbog is a terrible name for a town, and when that happened, I was just like, Sure, of course.   This somehow makes it even more terrible.
Yeesh.  And, to add to that contrivity, why would there be a sign in the middle of the street, in town, that says the name of the town.  But, yeah.  Either they want you to know it has goblins, or not.  It's not like they were required to be somewhat upfront about their dark secret.  Alright, we'll show everyone we're goblins, if they can solve the puzzle.  Absolutely no need.  This is where us Goblins live!  We want to make a play on words about it!  Goblins don't care.  And, perhaps most importantly, I'm 90% sure, in the script, they're presumably trolls, not goblins.  I guess Llort just isn't as good a town name as Nilbog is.  As I said before, though, they're not even trolls.  But, considering Troll is the title, I'm willing to consider they're trolls, even if there's no indication that they are in the script.  LLort.  Jeez.  Just name your town Goblinville and move on with your lives.  Also, it's one of those movies, with such terrible acting, that you get the sense that the director asked the actors to be horrible.  Look, we know you can do better than this, but it just goes with the feel of the movie if you pronounce all your lines like your an idiot.  I I guess I'm being an internet troll about it.  Bang Pow Zoom.
    What else and crap.  You ever order the Bang Pow Zoom from Chinese take out?  Not bad.  Also, one of the main character's name in the first Troll is Harry Potter.  I don't know what kind of sorcery they did to conjure up that name, but well done.  Name?  Good job.  Everything else?  Makes no fuckin' sense.  Oh well.  Titlers Be Titlin'.  At least that one had a troll.  Give a job to a dwarf actor, I'm behind that.  They even had him play a dual role where he plays just a regular guy whose a dwarf.  That's progressive, I say.  Good job done.  I don't know where, down the line, they came up that dwarf is what they want to be called, not midget.  Dwarf, while technically correct, still seems pretty insulting.  The word, "Dwarf," doesn't mean just small, it's got a negative connotation.  Something is dwarfed by something else, there's a sense of extremity.  Also, can I use the word extremity that way?  Titlers Be Titlin'.  Sometimes I try to cross my legs and realize my one leg isn't long enough to cross against the other way.  It's times like that I think Oh, yeah.  I'm fuckin' short.  You'd think it wouldn't make a difference, everything being in proportion.  It depends on the seat, I guess.
    Anyway, yeah.  Whatta adequate entry.  Titlers Be Titlin'!  I'd never make it as a poet.  Single letters fascinate me.  X.  Oh, yeah, I get it.  V.  Makes sense to me.  W.  ...I need some context please.  Also, seems like I'm preoccupied with the last the last fifth of the alphabet.  I guess I just subconsciously want to be prepared if ever stopped for drunk driving.  I should be stopped for any driving, I don't have my license.  I don't want to drive, too much of a risk.  Can you recite the alphabet backwards?  Hell no, can you?  That shit's hard!  Jail.  That's how that scenario might go.  ZY, that's easy.  X isn't too hard.  After that, gotta start reciting from the beginning to get there.  I'm preparing you for real world situations.  Titlers Be Titlin'.  Whatever.  I like counting down from 100 in sevens.  That's doable.  Anyway, gettin' close to closin' it up.  Another entry in the zooks.  Antman coming out soon.  Gotta imagine there'll be some size-related jokes in that.  Lookin' forward to that bullshit.  Feel like writing a sixth paragraph.  To add to my case for the adequacy title.  What else is going on.  It's good I dormed for that three weeks or whatever it was.  I know I have something to look forward to, eventually, being on my lonesome.  Just a pleasure.  A real pleasure.
    Anyway, last paragraph time.  Mets hangin' in there.  Gonna need to do better than .500, though.  45-35 or so to make the playoffs.  It's possible.  If they win five straight games, all they need to do then is 40-35.  That's how math works.  I once heard the volume on commercials is louder.  Can't attest to the accuracy of that statement, though.  Seems pretty consistent to me, but what do I know.  I know otherwise.  But what do I know, really.  I know commercials in the Biblical sense.  That's how I feel about things and crap.  My T.V. has been broken for a while where everything is darker than it should be.  Half the time, depending on the time of day, I can only make out large shapes.  The point is I can watch T.V. just about adequately.  More or less.  What else is going on.  Hey, look, some shapes are moving around!  That's pretty much every show I'm watching.  I rely on sound for any context.  Anyway, what else.  See ya later.

-11:26 P.M.              


Friday, July 3, 2015

What's In Here?

    Probably five paragraphs of crap.  That's my best guess.  It's too bad you can't use, "Crap," in school essays.  If it was allowed, I'd probably average three or four 'craps' per page.  It's a great multi-purposed word, I think.  Anyway.  First week of class in the books.  The book is called, "Week One of Class: An Oral History-- But Written."  I once learned in a poetry class that all poems are about poetry.  But this class, she's telling us to interpret them as, oh, this is about romantic love, or this is about walking around and taking a road, literally, and so on.  At first this idea turned me off.  But, now, being forced to see things in a different way, it's alright.  Gotta look at things from all points of view.  It still don't sit right with me completely, though, and crap.  Crap crap crap.  It's like going from looking at poetry, trying to be clever, and looking at poetry, trying to be dumb.  Being dumb has it's advantages sometimes.  I guess.  What else crap.  Also, I guess, it's pretty dumb to try to be clever.  And it's mighty clever to be dumb.  Where am I.  What's going on.  Also, Cleaver, the fake movie in the Soprano's.  Can't forget about that.  That crap is relevant as crap.  Also, who cares.  Let's get comedyin' with it.  Comedy is just drama with low self esteem.  I don't know if I thought of that, but if I did, whatta crap.
    Anyway, hi.  There's no apostrophe in the Sopranos.  I can't go back and change it, though.  Mistakes are opportunities to reflect on life.  I coulda made that mistake.  I did!  What comedy.  Drama is just comedy that's less entertaining.  That's how I feel about things.  It does beg the question, though, what is in here.  It's not my place to say.  I think that's why I like readin' poetry on the, "Clever" spectrum.  If I was a poet, I'd be thinking, "I don't know what this crap means, well, I do know, it doesn't mean anything, and why should it mean anything?"  And that's why I'm not a poet.  People are dumb.  Also, I don't want to get overly emotionally invested in what I'm reading.  That's for the birds.  I have to write an essay for next week about a two line selection mentioning birds from a poem.  And say what it means.  What the Hell?  Birds can represent 200 things.  I don't want to write an essay saying this is what it means.  And I can't just go through five or ten meanings in my paper, which is what I'm inclined to do.  The rules state I gotta pick one thing and go with it.  Whatta crap.  That's what it's all about though, I guess.
    Anyway, high.  That how that goes.  What else is going on.  Almost done binge watching Parks & Rec, after binge watching 30 Rock, after having a semblance of life in dorm.  General Electric sounds like a super villain, or super hero.  Not really either, though.  Electricity can go both ways.  General Electric is just a super neutral.  But he's a general, so he commands a whole army of neutrals.  But, remaining neutral, never get to do anything.  I think ABC nailed the initial game.  Really knocked it out of the park.  Can't go wrong with a classic.  Also, why were the basic channels 2, 4, and 7.  Be 1, 2, and 3, you dolts.  Also, seven is neutral on the pH scale.  NBC should be 7, not ABC.  Because of General Electric being neutral, and all.  You dolts.  Where am I.  Right, right.  I'ma finish this entry tomorrow.
    I'm gonna write the second half of this entry today.  Which is today.  Yesterday's tomorrow.  Yesterday's today was yesterday.  Let's all get on the same page, alright?  Anyway.  I don't like the song Yesterday.  It seems like a song I should be able to half-ass on guitar, but I don't know how to play it at all.  Thus, crap.  I've been re-thinking about guitar/vocal teacher.  It just seems like something worth while.  And its meaning is hard work pays off.  Nothing too confusing or complicated.  I spent a lot of time trying to get better at guitar, singing, and writing, and look, it pays off.  In an ideal world, I guess.  Not really, though.  I don't have the discipline for that discipline.  What else and crap.  The Mets should get Billy Bob Thornton to manage them.  That's how I feel about things.  I think it's easy to forget there's a well known and respected actor named Billy Bob.  I've mentioned that before, but it does beg the question, what is in here.  Lots of things beg that question.  Why, I could question it three or four more times this entry, I don't know.  Jimmy Carter had a redneck brother or something.  Billy Beer.  That's the limit of my knowledge of the history of Jimmy Carter, more or less.  That and we had a president named Jimmy Carter?  I met someone in Yoga whose last name was Quayle, and I was like, you're not related to Dan Quayle, are you?  And she was like whose that.  Kids these days, am I right.  That would be like me not knowing Jimmy Carter's vice president... Rutherford... T... Roosevelt?  That sounds right.
    Rockefeller?  Who knows.  I think it's weird Babe Ruth got a whole candy bar named after him.  Doesn't seem right.  Oh, Walter Mondale.  That loser.  Not knowing who Walter Mondale is at all somehow garners more respect for him than would be registered just recognizing his name.  Where am I.  Wha?  Anyway, what else is going on.  Birds.  I bet it signifies the next step of human evolution, because dinosaurs evolved into birds.  Pretty sure that's it.  100%.  Prove me wrong!  I bet if birds held a vote, are we better off now than we were 65 million years ago, no way they vote in the affirmative.  I'd rather be a dinosaur than a bird, hands down.  Anyway.  What else is going on.  I've been getting rid of old books cluttering up my room.  I hate it.  Japan Pop: A History of Japanese Popular Culture?  I might need that!  Teaching Calculus.  There'll come a day that'll be useful.  Brain Puzzles For Elementary School Kids?  I want it now!  And it's all pretty ironic, because I don't read at all.  If there's no movie of Teaching Calculus, how do I know it's worth my time?  I wanna know about Japan Pop, though.  I took a class in history of Japan and dropped out before I got to the popular era.  I know they like porn on the subways and sleeping in drawers.  That's enough to want to delve deeper, isn't it?
    And it's interesting how much they took on western culture, after being our WWII enemies.  Hey, a genuine comment.  I did it!  Germany, pick up the pace.  I'm pretty sure Germany invented The Weakest Link.  Just seems like their sort of thing.  And they shock you if you get the answer wrong.  Anyway.  What else and crap.  I think, legally, I'm required to binge watch something else now.  Whattado.  They didn't even have the last season of Parks & Rec.  Now I'm gonna have to watch it at a later time, like a chump.  Anyway, what else.  See ya later.

-6:50 P.M.     


Wednesday, July 1, 2015

A Round For Me And My Friends!

    Hey!  Great.  Whatta introduction.  It's me.  Back here at home in website form.  What's new, you ask?  Shit, now I'm already projecting thoughts onto you.  I don't know what you're thinking.  Assume what I assume, our friend Walter White-man taught us that.  Well, he tried.  I didn't really understand.  I thought he was calling me an ass made out of him and I.  Anyway, what's goin' on and crap.  Ritalin settlin' in nicely.  Didn't have a drop to drink today of alcohol, until just now.  That's a  good progression.  I can imagine myself drinking 1-2 drinks five or six days a week.  That's normal-levels!  Now that I am normal, how am I abnormal?  Website.  You delightful distraction, you've done it again!  Probably.  Things stop delivering at 9:00?  Times are fun.  9:00.  I wonder what it means.  Hearin' the bells, it's 9 A.M., our friend Elliott Smithsonian taught us that.  Step into my office, about 9 A.M., our friends Belle and Sebastian taught us that.  I don't have a pun for their name.  I knew a kid named Sebastian in middle school who we were all jealous of because he was always surrounded by hot chicks until we figured out he was gay.  That's my association.  Ass out of you and CIA nation.  Anyway, this is what my mind be like.  Whoudathunk my writing would convey something about me.
    That's not worth reading.  I blame school.  They corrupted my mind with ideas of grass and Shakespeare.  The Mets just made a Soul To Squeeze play.  That's a phrase I heard somewhere on the radio.  It was unsuccessful.  This is crap.  I gotta do it, though.  If not now, how?  If not me, when?  If not when, whatever?  I got a pair of earphones at gas station.  Surprisingly, they were the worst earphones I've ever listened to.  Just real crap.  Did put listening to my own music in perspective, though.  Crap on Crap.  I was gonna get a pair of earphones at the Queens College Bookstore, like a civilized person.  Surprisingly, though, it was closed.  That was a real surprise, though.  I checked their hours on the website and I was led to believe they were open.  I should send them the bill for my Gas Station Purchase.  And demand a public apology from the King of Queens College.  Kevin James College.  I'd go to Kevin James college, right?  Be proficiently funny and entertaining and let your amiability and charm take care of the rest.  I'd sign up for a degree in that.  I saw Mall Cop II in theaters earlier this year.  That's something a man'll never forget in his life time.  The day he paid to see a Kevin James movie.  II Blart II Furious.  They should have called the new Harper Lee Book "II Mocking Bird II Furious."  That's the exact same joke as the Mall Cop except for that it's better.
    July, huh?  I can dig it.  I keep trying to pull down my glasses from resting on my forehead only to realize I'm not wearing glasses.  I should get those strings you put around glasses, for some reason.  I'm not 100% on what that's all about.  Either way, entry time.  Murphy missed a tag at third base.  I blame school.  Someone's gotta be held responsible for this!  Probably Daniel Murphy.  That makes the most sense when you think about it. I guess he dropped the ball, figuratively, when the runner kicked... up... Murphy!  Give me $5000, New York Post.  I had a friend in K-12 whose father was an editor for The Daily News or something.  I never got the details.  He was probably a private person on account of secretly being Superman.  I don't get why people write letters to the editor.  He just an editor, it's not him you got a problem with, write to the journalist, you dolts.  The editor is the guy who let the mistake or whatever get by.  First they came for the editors, and I said nothing.  This means nothing.  I'm an idiot.  I don't think they're doing commercials this game.  I've sat here from Bottom 8th into Bottom 9th and I haven't seen one commercial break, unless if I've gone insane and am just not registering commercials at the moment.
Anyway, yeesh.  Gotta do something.  I'm contributing to the world.  Where do you get off.  Where are my glasses.  I picked up a pair of glasses off the street a few months ago.  While going through my stuff while I was gone at Queens College, my Mom found them, and wouldn't believe me when I told her they were garbage glasses and not mine, and worth saving as a back up.  What kind of a person would pick up glasses he finds on the street, she didn't think, because I'm that kind of person.  Anyway, this is the fourth paragraph, right?  Great, just great.  Yesterday I watched The Daily show, or part of it, at its intended time.  First time in years.  To be honest, makes much more sense at 11:00 P.M. than 9:00 A.M.  Hearin' the bells, step into my office, etc.  Man is The Apples In Stereo's Velocity of Album sound great.  He's mixing up words!  And I Get It!  That's something I do once in a while.  New Magnetic Wonder was a pivitol album for me in that I listened to the crap out of it when I was first getting high all the time for the first time.  I remember my friend coming to my dorm to smoke, for the first time, since I usually went to his dorm cause his dormmates were also our friends, and he thought "Sun Is Out" was one of my songs.  Because I remember faux compliments like it was the back of my hand, or some nonsense like that.  It might not have been a faux compliment.  It might have just been a high comment.  Oh sweet bullshit, how I miss it.  Then we went to Union Square and crossed a barrier into where some statue was.  Because we were high.  Oh sweet reasoning.
    Anyway, hi!  It's still me, probably.  Unfortunately.  What else is going on.  If only The Mets were The Cubs, they'd be winning.  Oh well.  That how that go.  Another entry in the book.  Bask in its shining almost mediocrity.  Reading poetry in class today, I was like, I could do this, easy.  I just don't want to.  Because that makes sense.  They're seriously not showing commercials this game.  What the Hell. Maybe They Are.  What The Hell.  The Mets Lost.  Hell What The Hell.  This is almost over.  Great.  See ya later.

-10:54 P.M.