Friday, May 20, 2016
Let's See How This Goes
It's been a while since
I've written an entry on a non-class day. At least that's how I feel.
I might have in factuality. Which turns out to be a word. I
thought I was makin' up some fun new word. Nope. Real word.
Whatta let down. Anyway, great. What's going on. I like that
MTV show The Real Word about five strangers trying to put together a
Dictionary. Not really. It's kind of boring. I do kind of miss
Next! though. That was a mildly entertaining show. I like the
part where they find true love and happiness. Happens roughly twice an
episode, right? And, even if they don't, they get to ride a bus.
That's a pretty good deal. Anyway, crap and crap.
I don't like the way you eat ice cream. Next!
... ... I don't like the way you eat ice cream, either. Next! ... ...
Jeez what's wrong with how all these people eat ice cream. Next!
Anyway, let's see. I don't know why I associate Next with
eating ice cream. Maybe if it was from the 50's, that would be their main
activity. Anyway, Huh? I'm proud to say I don't think I've ever had
an ice cream soda or some sort of shake or that kind of thing. Ice cream
and soda should be separate but equal. I feel very strongly about this.
I don't think I've ever drank straight milk. When I was a kid, only way I
would drink it was with chocolate syrup. As an adult, stay clear of that
nonsense all together.
Third paragraph! 5/20. That date rings a bell for
me. I think the first recording I made of me playing guitar was 5/20/2005.
Whatta joy. Since then, I've made hundreds, nay, thousands of recordings
of me attempting to play an instrument. And the good news is, after all
that practice, I'm about on par with the average guitarist whose been playing
for three weeks. Nailed it. What else is going on. Matt
Harvey is stinking it up. I think it's time to get rid of the
Dark Knight moniker. If he just accepted his role as The White
Knight, everything would start clicking. I guarantee it. He's Two
Face, not Batman. He's got to come to terms with this sooner or later.
There should be a Batman storyline with Two Face getting burned with acid and
becomes Three Face. Really raise the stakes.
What else is going on. In an episode of Mr. Show I
recently watched, they mention a fake Mel Brooks movie parody called Bad Man,
Whatever. The first dozen time I heard it, didn't make me laugh at
all, I just glossed over it. Now, I can't get it out of my head.
Badman Whatever. Hehahahaha. Anyway, let's move on with the
entry and whatnot. The main two advertising campaigns I remember from the
mid 90's were Batman Forever tie ins with McDonalds, where there's a commercial
with the Batmobile going through the drive ins, and the Who Shot Mr. Burns
promotions with signs up all around in movie theaters and the like. And,
gotta say, really paid off. Twenty years later I still like The Simpsons
and Batman. These advertisers know what they're doing. Hook 'em in
while they're young.
What else and crap. Fifth paragraph. This is just
flying by. Crap and crap. I think it's a good thing they didn't have a
Who Killed Maude Flanders promotion several years later. That would be
in bad taste. Real Life killed her. Just like Troy McClure.
Stupid real life, where does it get off. What else is going on.
Jeez. What else is going on. Jeez. I drank some Diet Dr.
Pepper for the first time in years today. It reminds me of all those good
old times, drinking Diet Dr. Pepper. Those were the days. My main
memory of Dr. Pepper is, the first time I was in the hospital, my parents
bringing me some Diet Dr. Pepper during visitor hours. What fun.
Really made the whole thing worthwhile, you know.
Crap and crap. Jeez and bullshit. Nonsense and
crapdom. I haven't been in the hospital for over four years.
#Alright! What else and crap. Really knocking some Tweets out of the
park. You know, jokes and crap? That's wonderful. What else is
going on. Today's Friday. How about that. That means a new
episode of Bill Maher roughly every other week, out of the year. They come
in bunches, though. How complicated and interesting. That's
one of the things I watch with my parents. Bill Maher, sometimes Fear The
Walking Dead. The point is I'm a good son and spend time with my parents.
They're not gonna be around forever. I don't like the title Fear The
Walking Dead. Don't tell me what to fear and what not to fear. I'll
make my own decision on a Thing-By-Thing basis.
Alright! Okay. Met Game with my brother next
month, tentatively. I don't think I've been at a Baseball game since I've
been legal drinking age. Now I get to spend obscene amounts of money on
overpriced beer. The American Dream. I like the big screen at
Baseball games. Look at the size of those images! Lots of
fun. I'm not a fan of the Seventh Inning stretch. We're almost done
at that point. Just hold in your stretching impulses a little bit longer.
Maybe have it during the fifth inning, that would make some sense. Also,
you're allowed to stretch whenever you want. You don't need baseball
customs to tell you when to stretch.
What else is going on. Probably bullshit and crap.
Still need to get my Electric Guitar fixed. Then, with practice, over
another eleven years, I can get to the skill level most people are at after
six weeks. Knock some tunes out of the park. To use
baseball lingo. I don't get why people bunt. From my experience,
over half the time you're trying to bunt, you strike out. The risk/reward
equation of bunting just doesn't seem to add up. I should be a
Sportscaster. Bunting-- What's The Deal With Bunting? That
could be an hour long segment. Or, maybe end it right after introducing
it. Bunting-- What's The Deal With Bunting? Back to you.
Great. What else and crap. I feel like this
is the ninth paragraph. You can't argue with a feeling. Especially
since it's correct in this case. I did the math. Counting is
math, right? It's math in it's purest form. I either made
that exact same joke/remark here before, or I'm experiencing some Deja Vu.
Or both. Can't it be both? I want it to be both. We need our
own word/phrase for Deja Vu in English. I'm tired of having to speak
French to discuss this phenomenon. Doesn't seem right. What about
Vuja De? Nothing's gonna change my world? Is that relevant?
That's That's not how the song goes. You're not how the
song goes. Get off my website!
The good news is What Else. I don't trust The
Universe. Have you seen this movie Alien? That thing picked off
almost the entire crew, one by one. Can't be trusted. Let's just
stick to Earth. Maybe Mars. I feel bad for Venus. It's got a
lot going for it, but since it can't be inhabited, no one gives a fig. The
good news is What Else. Now that Michael Jackson is dead, who owns the
rights to Beatles Songs. Gotta be someone. Who cares what what else
and bullshit. I don't know. This is teh tenth paragraph. I
think I have it in me to reach 15. I got nothin' else to do. I don't
know. What else and crap.
I don't know. Crap and crap, I guess. Probably
get my Grade for Spring Class next week or so. I predict a, "B."
Participated the crap out of the class, but I was missing a few workshops of
other people's stories. We'll see how that goes. I think it's pretty
impressive how I always had one or two things to say about other people's
stories, when 90% of them I didn't read/understand. I read most of them,
but none of it registered. I'm bad at reading, I guess, that's the point.
I don't even understand most of what I write. How can I understand
what you write.
Anyway. Twelfth paragraph or something. How
wonderful. Weekend coming up. You know what that means.
NYTimes Mini-crosswords getting put up for the next day several hours earlier.
I think that's great. Also, who cares. What else. Jeez, this
entry is closing in on being over. I can't wait. I can go back to,
well, let's see. What do I do when I'm not writing an entry. Playing
poker. That's good. I think wasting so much time playing non-money
poker has really sharpened my skills. I feel like, if they ever legalize
it again, I could play one table of .50/1, and make five or ten dollars an hour.
That's great. I could almost support myself on that wage. And, if
Bernie wins the presidency, I think it's illegal for them not to give my fifteen
dollars an hour while gambling. That's how laws work, right?
Probably. Who knows for sure. The good news is
still What Else. I don't know. It's time for New Rules.
New rule-- ... ... ... Never mind. I was hoping I'd come up with
some sort of rule. A rule that's new. I couldn't. Oh well.
I get a comment every month or so from a rival poker player complimenting my
username. Again, might have said this in the past, or having some Deja
Vu. The username is Crymeariver0. River-- like poker?
Hilarious! Fiendishly clever! Sure knocked that one out of the park.
Huh. Two and a half paragraphs to go. Even less. Two and a
quarter, really. That's great, just great. Jeez. Dinner when
this is over. That's good. Straight from one thing to the next
thing. No down time. Down time's no good.
Alright! Two to go. I can do that, do it
hardcore. Jeez. What else and crap. This is the sixth entry of
the month? That's pretty good. 3 out of 10 days. Perfect.
The good news is What Else. I like how Clinton campaigns on the idea of,
We want to continue what Obama did, not go backwards! Yeah, cause
nominating the wife of the president we had in the 1990's wouldn't be going
backwards. We'll just shift right on over to two decades ago.
Tamagachi. Other things. That's how I feel. What else is
going on and/or how I feel. Badman, Whatever. So stupid.
Yeesh. Almost done. So close, so close. Then, who knows.
Ten minutes of lying in bed, contemplating where my life went wrong. Then,
fifteen minutes of eating. Then, some more poker playing. Gotta sit
up after I eat. Can't lie down. That's no good for digestion.
And I'm all about digestion. All about it. Jeez.
There's a few movies On Demand I've been meaning to watch. Resevoir Dogs.
I think I have that on DVD. Maybe not. Either way, haven't seen it
in a decade and a half. I remember their names are colors. Whatta
goof. Colors are pretty common names, though. Black, White, Green,
Brown. All legitimate last names. Never met a man with the name
Purple, though. I guess it's on me to start that. Change my name to
Purple, my kids are named Purple, sooner or later, it's a big name. That's
how that might go. Almost done with the entry! Whatta joy
it's been. Turns out I can still knock some entries out of the park even
without it being scheduled when I get home from school. Wonderful.
I'll see ya later.
Tuesday, May 17, 2016
See You In Hell, Class I Enjoyed!
I'm here. That means
one of two things. I'm writing an entry, or some other thing. I
don't have the time to think of a thing. Busy schedule. I'm gonna
have a class in three weeks. Who has the time. Anyway, Hi! I
swip/swapped the classes I would be taking for Summer. I was gonna take
Philosophy first session, Non Fiction Writing second. Flip/flopped 'em.
I wanna do the thing that's easier. I think we can all understand this.
Anyway, great, what else. There's an Angry Birds movie. I assume the
Executive Producers' Intent was Let's Make Everybody Hate Us. Can't
think of another reason. Oh, I know. Let's Make Everyone Not
Respect Us. That could be it. Oh, one more possibility,
DUHHHH I'M A FREAKIN' MORON.
Anyway, great. I can make some wise cracks in a Non
Fiction Class. Hey, is this class about Indian Bread Fiction? Oh,
Yeah! He Who Smelt It Dealt It. Let's See What's Behind Door Number
Two! That's how that might play itself out. Anyway. If you
want to be anonymous about sending flowers to somebody, signing He Who
Smelt It Dealt It might be one way to go. You know, if your goal is to
be an idiot. If that's your goal, go ahead and see Angry Birds in
theaters. At least it's dark in the theater and nobody would be wise to
your idiocy. What else and crap. Might be going to a Met game at
some point with my brother. It's great. Four out of five nights,
you're gonna see an exceptional pitcher. And the fifth night you get to
watch Big Sexy do his thing. 100% chance you'll be pleased with the
That's how that goes. I figured out that my Thyroid
condition decreases metabolism. That must be why I can't eat whatever crap
I want all the time and not gain weight. Stupid Thyroid, thinks its so
great. We get to see what Kentucky and Oregon think about Democarts.
I've always wondered, Do People in Kentucky get to vote? If so,
why. Democarts. Political Commentary!
My thyroid disorder is called Hashimoto's Disease. Pretty sure
that's what caused Godzilla. He's on some strange hormones and, well, look
what happened. Anyway. Godzilla isn't that hard to defeat.
Just hit him with some strong caliber bullets or bombs or something, he'll go
down like a sack of potatoes. Big potatoes. The biggest potatoes
you've ever seen.
That's a thing. I guess. DDo you like
Potatoes? How do you like them potatoes. I also
think we should call our testicles potatoes. Nobody's stopping us.
How'd you like some mashed potatoes? I wouldn't like that, not at
all. What makes you think that I might have wanted that. Don't mash
my potatoes. I can say this very confidently, leave my potatoes alone.
That's a thing, I guess. I'm pretty sure Captain America: Civil War
is about Lincoln. His code name was Captain America, right?
Should be. Forget President Lincoln. From now on, he goes by
Captain America. No reason not to. I was hoping at the end of
the last class, Professor was gonna ask us if we want to make closing
statements. I had a whole brief prepared. If you liked my
stories, be sure to check out my music at... If I'm not pimping myself
in a social situation, why bother at all.
Anyway. I was about to google, Can Godzilla Be
Defeated? Just to see what the internet has to say. Stopped
myself just in time, though. I don't want that in my search history.
Google'll be pimping assault rifles that have proven track records against
oversized monsters. Leave me out of it. I just was wondering, that's
all. Fifth paragraph. That's how that goes. I still gotta get
my guitar fixed. You know, cut off the potato sack? Things!
Crap and crap. Daniel Murphy is hitting .400. That's 2 for 5
every day. That's a lotta days. Huh? Anyway.
Great. I've noticed I get drunker by drinking plain alcohol than I would
drinking mixed alcohol, even if the amount of alcohol is the same. It's a
great discovery. It turns out I'm a genius.
Sixth paragraph! Feelin' like a 10'r today.
Tomorrow, a baritone. Then, a Soprano. Whatta dumbo.
Anyway, huh? The Circus is getting rid of the elephants. Won't
Somebody Think Of The Elephants?! That's probably how that went.
I think both major political parties could do a lot better with the animal the
represents the. Donkey. Ok, so you're all asses?
Elephant. So you're huge albatrosses of limited intelligence?
Both may be true, but, come on, accentuate the positive. Dumbos.
Political Commentary! Great. I've heard that An Elephant
Never Forgets. How did they do that study. That's what I wanna
Great! You can get Donkey Rides around the Grand
Canyon. Is that relevant? My guess? Probably. More than
halfway through May. You know what that means. Less time until June.
Great. There's an Applebee's on the way to Queens College and sometimes I
just stare at it longingly through the bus window and think about where my life
has gone wrong. I used to eat at Applebees with my family when I was a
kid. With my friends when I was a teenager. Now, where am I.
Neither a kid nor a teenager. With no family or friends. Something
seems wrong about that. I guess I'm still a teenager. I'm
seventeen-teen. Probably. I didn't do the math that carefully.
The point is I like restaurants.
Anyway. I've got a family. There's these two
people called my Parents and this guy who says he's my Brother. My mind is
pretty fragile, so I'll have to take them at their word. What else and
crap. I also have two cousins who sometimes read the bullshit I write.
And an uncle who takes me gambling. And that guy's wife. Turns out I
have a huge family. You know, roughly seven people or so? That's how
that goes. You can even extrapolate it towards half a dozen or so people I
see at Christmas only. Good people. Put up with my bullshit.
Friends? You know, sure, probably. There's those guys I haven't
spoken to since 2012. There's the people I haven't spoken to since 2006.
There's the people I haven't spoken to at all yet, but may in the future.
Whatever. I'm gonna have lasagna for dinner!
Whatta moron. Don't know what that accomplishes or what it means.
Let's just move on. Ninth paragraph. Alright! I don't like the
saying that goes, A million monkeys at typewriters will eventually write
Shakespeare. Shakespeare didn't have no typewriters. If you
wanna go down that road, make the monkeys have to write it by hand. You'll
find it's practically impossible for a monkey to write Shakespeare by hand.
Hell, they'll never even get the one word Shakespeare right. Just
my opinion. What else and crap. I wonder if there was a real Mavis
Beacon who gets royalties off of every copy sold. My guess? Nah,
probably not. Oh well. There goes that positive black female role
model. She taught us that black females can rise to the highest echelon of
What else and crap. Tenth paragraph. Will we go
beyond ten paragraphs? Can't say for sure yet. Can we write the
tenth paragraph? Nah, not us. Only me. Democarts.
Zinged. My main impression of Kentucky is that it's a state for some
reason. No one really knows for sure why. The good news is What
Else. The Mets are playing The Nationals. That raises the stakes
somewhat. They'll do good. Do good hardcore. They've got an
entire pitching staff that's entertaining. That's how you get to the
playoffs. Anyway. I'm still here. Writing crap. That's
how that goes. Gone through the first season of Mr. Show with my Mother.
She laughed a few times. Enough to make her agree to continue watching it.
And it's great watching it with someone else, theoretically. You get to
laugh like it's the first time all over again. Except she doesn't laugh
enough. Laughs enough to agree to continue watching it. Not enough
that I'm constantly looking over at her, thinking, You Idiot, Laugh NOW.
That's how that goes. Great. She said she
thought it would be more political. Which brought back a memory of when I
first watched it. I also thought it would be political for some reason.
Who can explain this. Not me. Not my mother. David Cross
and/or Bob Odenkirk, maybe. They're the authorities on the subject.
The good news is let's keep writing and/or reading. My Mother really feels
bad for David Cross. She sees Bob Odenkirk, Jack Black, and goes to me,
Why didn't' David Cross become successful. I tried explaining to he
that he is, in the path he's chosen. She's not having none of it.
Feels bad for David Cross.
Anyway. Four paragraphs to go. I can do that, do
it hardcore. I find it odd that the major league record for strike outs in
a game is 20. I feel like I could beat that if I really put my mind to it.
Just get 21/27 outs to be strike outs. That's roughly three out of four.
I can do three out of four, no problem. I could probably strike out,
myself, seven or eight times a game, if it goes into extra innings. The
Double Golden Sombrero. A rare feat. The good news is What Else.
I could probably make it to First Base from Home in a even thirty seconds.
I'm half the size of these guys. Takes twice as long to run with my legs
to some point. That's Math, that's all that is. Like, if it was a
giant, a Godzilla type, one step and he's at first base. That easy.
Three more to go! Talk about Greatness. That's
me. I wouldn't have pimped this website to Class. I talk about it
too much in here. That's no good. I can safely say that not one of
the songs that I stopped writing/putting up over a year ago is about this class.
Great. The good news is Huh? Hey, what else is going on.
Probably crap and stuff. I should just take an American Studies class
instead of Philosophy. Philosophy is hard. American Studies is,
like, America Made Cars! Then Comes The New Deal. Martin
Luther King Cured Racism. A+ please. The good news is this
paragraph is almost over. We can go on to forgetting whatever bullshit I
Yeah! Two more to go. The finish line is in
sight. What else and crap. I was about to check this Month to see if
I've done fifteen paragraphs yet. I was gonna hit Ctrl+F and type in 15.
Because I don't know how computers work. Great. One of my favorite
computer stories, I've said it here before, but I'll say it again because it
fills space, we just got our new PC and my brother typed into DOS, Can You
Hack Into School Computer. Love it. Wonderful. Where's
That Tab I Ordered. That's from The Simpsons. I like my life
better than The Simpsons. Probably because The Simpsons is in and of
itself a tiny subset of my life. I've watched it a bunch of times.
Plus, this way, I get all the crap my life has had to offer.
Alright. Here we go. You mother fuckers are gonna
believe it now. Last paragraph. What's going on. Today's
Tuesday. You know what that's like, right. You should. You
spend 1/7th of your life during it. Musta picked up something about what
makes Tuesday Tuesday. I don't know. Just a few more sentences to
go. Apparently Shake Shack is a thing that's gentryfing the outer
boroughs. I guess there's no room for a restuarant started by a simple
man, Mr. Ronald McDonald, and his dream of selling hamburgers to people.
The modern world wants alliteration in their fast food restart name. What
a cruel world that we live in. See ya later.
Thursday, May 12, 2016
Award Shows Where Award Shows Win Awards
I heard it in The Critic.
It hit me right in the laugher zone. Anyway. One more class for the
semester. Did some group leading-the-class-in-the-reading today.
Don't mean to brag, but I sure asked some questions about the reading and had
other people answer them. Asked some questions about the reading and had
other people answer them hardcore. I got a sixth follower on Twitter only
for a day. Back down to five. Guess they didn't like what I was
putting out there. Oh well. I'm sure, one day, I'll have a dozen
followers. I can hardly imagine. Anyway, what the what.
Two home runs for Thor. Again, a nickname I wouldn't use, but he earned
it. Never calling Matt Harvey The Dark Knight, though. That
goes against all Batman-logic and I refuse to participate in it.
Jeez. Steven Matz' nickname should be The Other Guy.
That's the sort of thing I could get behind. I guess. Stole that
from Blankman. I should just make an entry entirely crafted from jokes
from movies. That'll be a quality entry. I guess. The good
news is what else is going on. I could get Pizza Hut today. That'll
bring me back to over a decade ago. All that sugar. Who doesn't like
sugar in pizza. Can't get Meat Lovers, though. I'm on a diet.
Gotta go with Supreme. That's only half meat. Half
vegetables. The meat and vegetables cancel each other out. I'd be
a fool not to get it.
Alright. Sure. Why not. Part of me
wants to take a break from school and not do the first summer session. The
other part of me has shit else to do. Which side will win? Probably
the second one. I'm already registered and I don't know if I have the work
ethic involved in canceling the class. It could take upwards of two
minutes. I don't have time for that. Stupid Philosophy. How
many jokes can I make in a Philosophy class. Little to none, that's how
many. I bring that up every entry. It's important. I'm
like a shark. If I'm not constantly making jokes, I die. That's what
happens to sharks, right? Except not jokes. That would be weird.
For sharks it's swimming. I heard it somewhere that was perhaps a credible
Okay. Crap and crap. What else and crap.
Why does Pizza Hut deliver. You're taking away your main advantage-- being
a Hut. That's what you based your entire name around. Then leaving
the Hut and going to people's houses? What kind of fools are you. I
don't get it. What else. I don't know. Probably something.
What it is, though, is beyond me. Lots of things are beyond me.
Pretty much, there's myself, then there's things that are beyond me. If
we're talking spatial things and crap. I don't know why we wouldn't be.
Great. This'll be a shorter entry. I'm not even sure how I got this
far. I can safely say I didn't achieve any humor, nor interestingnessitude.
Oh well. Five paragraphs ain't bad.
Last paragraph! Then what. Crap. I
can watch the second half of Rosemary's Baby. I like horror movies.
They're a break from my even scarier regular life. Wonderful! I
don't know. Spoiler Alert To Myself: The baby is the devil. Or some
kind of higher up demon, at least. Damn I spoiled it for me.
I thought it was just a regular baby. And it's a movie about babies.
Five paragraphs isn't enough. At least get to seven or eight. I
can do that, probably. If Rosemary is so great, she ought to raise The
Devil to be an upstanding citizen. It's all about nurture. Forget
Nature. Nurture is where it's at. I say, he turns out to be a
bastard, that's on Rosemary.
Okay. Sure. I've noticed a disturbing trend.
Exorcist-- Mother is an actor. Rosemary's Baby-- Father is an actor.
I guess actors --> Devil babies and children. I'm just looking at the
facts. That's Philosophy. Pretty sure every Philosophy includes a,
"-->" It was originally a Roman symbol meaning, Look to the
right. Okay. I don't know. I got a paragraph and a half to
go, that's all I know. I have to go several weeks without riding the bus.
That doesn't seem fair. I want to ride the bus to the greatest extent
possible. I don't like how every fourth or fifth bus you see says Next
Bus Please. You're apparently going on the right route. Your bus
is working. I see it driving. Lemme on this bus. What's the
Alright! Jodie Foster was on Conwald O Brienson's
show last night. I have Taxi: The Driver: The Movie on DVD. I could
watch that. I haven't seen that since back in Pizza Hut days. "Feel
Good Movie Of The Year!" I believe was a review of it. Jodie Foster
should be Sigourney Weaver. Let's talk about it. No idea what
that means. The point is Half a Paragraph to go. Let's see.
I need to get one of my Electric Guitars working. I'm sick of playing it
without power. Play my Acoustic guitar instead? What are you,
some sort of fool? I'm not on board with that crap. I'll see ya
Tuesday, May 10, 2016
That's Not Supposed To Happen
Hey friends and enemies.
Shared my Best Sentence in class today. I realized this morning Not
Guilty is a verdict, not a sentence. So I went with Five To Ten
Years. Feel like it got an appropriate response. Teacher faking
interest and excitement for two seconds, me butting in saying it's a pun,
Teacher faking more interest and excitement, Old Wise Lady going That's
Great. And that was that. Old Wise Lady going, You Should
Have Gone With Probation. Me going, What The Hell Do You Know You
Idiot. After Teacher got some time to process it, though, I feel like
she liked it. By the time we were going around the room talking about our
inspiration, and I go Well, it made me laugh, she seemed to be on my side
about the whole thing. Anyway, what else is going on in the news.
Bartolo Colon hit a home run. I don't quite get what
all the fuss is about. I know they're always making fun of his swing and
how feeble he looks at the plate. I get that. From that perspective,
it's pretty cool. But beyond that, I don't know. I do enjoy it from
a Hey, other people love this, I can get on board with that perspective.
And, watching it live, I admit I rewinded about three or four times to hear Gary
Cohen call it over and over. Fun moment, sure. What else and crap.
I've said it before, and I'll say it again, I Like The Mets. They are The
Team That I root for. Not sure what that accomplishes.
Anyway, crap and crap. There was one bus right behind
the other, and a wheelchair guy was getting on the front bus, which had less
passengers than the second bus. This sounds like a Math Team problem.
But anyway, I wanted to get on the first bus, because, easier to get a seat.
But the bus driver told us all to get to the other bus as the Wheel Chair guy
got on. I wanted to wait, I'll wait for the wheelchair guy, then take the
seat waiting for me. Ordered not to, though. You know what that's
like, right. Anyway. That was pretty much an entire paragraph.
That's great. I hope you enjoyed it.
What else. Bartolo Colon has earned being called his
own Nickname that he wants. I'm retiring Big Man and bringing in
Big Sexy. He earned it. The good news is What Else. I'll
even add Bartolo to the list of accepted words on Microsoft Front Page.
No more wavy red lines for Bartolo. To Bartolo It should become a
phrase when you do something great that's unexpected and everyone reacts a
little bit too much. Anyway. Something else has gotta be going on.
It's May 10th. We've had a full five and a third months into the year.
I can't tell you one thing that's happened. Sure, political candidates.
A little bit of Supreme Court whatnot. I feel like a Star Wars was
Huh? Anyway. Power went out for a few hours
yesterday. Damn Electro. Won't leave me alone. I don't get why
they call working late hours The Graveyard Shift. What does working
late have to do with graveyards. Is it just, Late hours are spooky,
graveyards are spooky. Seems like something's missing. I blame
Stephen King. Probably was him in disguise getting on the bus.
Mucking it up for the rest of us. Why should wheelchair guy get to sit
and not me. Doesn't seem fair. Reverse handicapism. What
else is going on. It's scary at night. You know, scary like
graveyards? Grow the fuck up. You're an adult. Just be
happy you've got a job.
Crap and crap. What else and crap. I've never
seen a place that serves Cold Antipasto. Feels like you can drop the,
"Hot," from your name description. We'll all be on board, we get it.
Some places must probably serve Cold Antipasto. Get off my website.
Jerkbag. Also, why is it so anti-pasta. You're on the same menu.
Come on, show some team spirit. Crap and crap. This entry is
a real sledge. Just keep sledging through it. Of course, there's the
ecstatic payoff of finishing it. Both for me, and you. It's over!
we will both feel, not at the same time. I can't wait. It's gonna be
great. Every time I get a couple of beers after class, the way I decide
what to get is based on which commercials I tend to favor on that specific day.
Well, more accurately, which ad campaign I dislike less. I really,
really hate these Bud Light campaigns. Gonna go wit Coors Light.
Next week, I could do without the Coors commercials. Gonna go with Bud
Great. What else. Seventh paragraph.
Feel like I had some good social commentary with The Graveyard Shift Discussion.
That's a plus. Haven't had Pizza Hut in, I don't know, a Decade?
That would be a fun Mix-Em-Up for dinner. I guess. Who knows.
We ended up not turning in the Sentence Assignment, just reading it. But
she said it had to be typed. I didn't realize until walking to school that
Not Guilty wasn't a sentence. So I was prepared to hand in Not
Guilty! with a line through it and then written Five To Ten Years.
I feel like that's cheating in a very clever way. I was stressing about
it, but I actually talked myself into thinking it's even better this way.
Oh well. What else is going on and bullshit. Also, I of course was
going through how long the sentence should be, and I decided on Five To Seven
Years. Then when I was writing it I accidentally wrote Ten, which
was another possibility I was thinking about. I feel it all worked out for
Great! Just great. What else is great.
Couldn't go with Months. Years raises the stakes. The good news is I
got to show off my idiocy to my classmates and teacher. That's a Win in my
book. Also, I forgot to tell you, I'm writing a book. It's called
The Big Book of Wins and it's going to be great. What else and crap.
Eighth paragraph. How about that. Pizza Hut is closed on Tuesdays.
Only Tuesdays. How about that. Probably saved myself there.
Anyway. How about that. I feel like I'm doing pretty good at
Twitter. Got two followers who I don't know. That's not bad.
It increases reverse exponentially, though. You know how that goes.
The higher it goes, the more space in-between how Quality At Twitter you are.
That's reverse exponentialitly, right? If it were a word, I mean.
Great. I could always get Dominos. I could be the
person that's just stupid enough to get Dominos. That would be great.
Anyway, what else and crap. I'm not even sure if I want pizza.
Oh, Man. So much to think about. Might be going to a Met game with
my brother at some point over the next couple months. I've never been to
Citifield. I'm under the impression it's some sort of Field. I can't
wait to find out. Jeez. Crap and crap. Probably a 10'r
of an entry today. I always say that, though, and end up doing 15.
Doing 15, that really hits the spot. To use Dog-Abusing lingo. When
we were kids, me and my brother wanted a dog. We got a cat instead.
Parents didn't want to take care of a dog. Ended up having to take care of
the cat. Jokes on them. THe last few years she was a real nuisance,
throwing up all over the place. Oh, cruel irony.
I don't know what irony is anymore. I even made a
Tweet about it. How Ironic. Probably not. Couldn't hurt
to wonder, though. Jeez. hat is this, the tenth paragraph?
Alright, great. What else and crap. Gotta do crap when this is over.
Just my luck. Havin' to do crap, and crap. Doesn't seem fair.
I feel like it's either tonight or tomorrow night when they have Two In a
Million on. It's a show about two freaks who think they're the only kind
of that freak and they meet each other and have fun talking about what it feels
like to be freaks. It's a heartwarming tale of American Exceptionalism.
Which I'm pretty sure is a word, despite what Microsoft Frontpage says. It
may not be being used properly, but it damn sure Hell is a word. I don't
know. Crap and carp.
Eleventh! Paragraph. In case you got confused.
Paragraphs are what we're keeping track of over here. Met game, probably.
That's great. Hey, I got DVDs! I've only watched some of these
movies a dozen times. That's one more to complete The Baker's Dozen.
Gotta do it. That's a podcast reference. They also make jokes any
time the number "69" comes up. I want to say ironically. When I was
canvassing with my brother, he said something about 69th street, and I
instinctually went Up Top My Brother. I think it confused and
angered him. That's how I felt, at least. Confused because I never
found that funny. Angry because I lost control of my own wits. Oh
well, these things happen.
Jeez. I guess I'm pot committed to fifteen paragraphs.
This is already the twelfth. That's roughly 12/15ths done already. I
did the math. Five to ten years. I'm gonna stalk my Teacher's
Twitter, waiting for her to go, My Student Just Did Something Great Today!
I'd be that excited about it if I were her. Is it possible I was
unconsciously thinking of Five To Ten Paragraphs? I wouldn't rule it
out, no. It's still the twelfth paragraph. That doesn't seem right.
And it's not even two and a half to go. It's three and a half. I
ain't doing that. That's bullshit. I'll see how I feel on a
paragraph by paragraph basis.
I want a Super Nintendo. If I could magically and
immediately have any game system with a dozen or so games, I'd go with Super
Nintendo. Nintendo 64 as a back up. Then Dreamcast. I didn't
have Dreamcast for long, but when I did, Oh Boy. Hey, it's the
thirteen paragraph. They can't all be gold. In fact, they did
studies, and only roughly two out of thirteen paragraphs can be gold.
That's how that goes. I really don't get how we still have economies based
around gold. Hey, it's a rock. A specific kind of rock.
Great. In the post apocalyptic future, lack of interest and sarcasm
will be our currency. That's how I feel.
Short paragraphs means Fifteen is an obtainable. Not
like that unobtaninum nonsense. I never even saw Avatar. I'm pretty
sure it's about video games. What else is going on. Crap and crap.
Jeez. Philosophy Class first summer session. Non Fiction Writing
class second. How can you have your pudding if you haven't eaten your
meat. I came up with that, me. Just now. Seems kind of
weird, but, hey, I don't make the rules. What rules. You
rules. Hey, thanks! Shut up you moron. I was talking
to me. Yes, we get it. We all get it.
Last paragraph! We did it almost! Only the third
entry of the month through ten days. That's not too bad. Seems
pretty much appropriate. I just noticed the other day that when I'm on my
bed, the mattress depresses more than it used to. Because of Fat. It
makes sense. Still, was kinda disconcerting. That's how I feel.
What else and crap. Met game tonight. Freakshow tomorrow probably.
The Rap Game II some time in 2019. Got a lot on my plate, that's all I'm
trying to say. If on the first day of Non Fiction Workshop, the professor
goes, Okay, We're Gonna Focus On Comedy Blogs... I wouldn't feel great.
I'm too far into this game to start second guessing my method. That would
only lead to negatives. And, if he says anything else... Whatta waste
of my time. See ya later.
P.S. -- I guess gravediggers work at night. Still not happy
about the whole situation, though.
Thursday, May 5, 2016
Let's Go To The Phones
Hey friends and whatnot.
Sentence Assignment due on Tuesday. I'm feelin' pretty confident about,
"Not Guilty!" It is pretty much the best. The good news is what else
is going on. Pretty sure my Mom thinks I'm doing drugs. She cleaned
up my room today and one of the Ground Pellets was left squarely on my Table.
How could she possibly understand that in actuality it's just a Ground Pellet.
Either way, she didn't bring it up. Maybe she saw it and went, Eh,
probably a ground pellet. That must be what happened. Anyway,
what the what. Anyway, today is 2/3rds of the phone number in movies.
Oh yeah, and Cinco de Mayo. But more importantly, almost a fake
movie number. I feel obligated to share with you this rap that Grover
Cleveland busted way back when in American History-- "My name is Grover
Cleveland, And I ain't from Ohio, Gettin' girlies numbers on Cinco De Mayo."
That's History for ya. It's especially relevant because Cinco De Mayo is
2/3rds Fake Movie Number. These numbers he's getting are all bullshit.
He's got no game, despite all his rapping bravado.
Anyway, Hi! WHAT WAS THIS GROUND PELLET I FOUND IN
YOUR ROOM? ARE YOU ON GROUND PELLETS? Anyway. Finding
things on the ground is a recurring theme of this website. Ground pellets,
bananas... I guess just two things. Two things a theme does not make
I guess. Anyway, what else. Donde Esta La Biblioteca. That's
the main thing they teach you to say in Spanish in school. Which is great,
because you know all those times you're in a foreign land, your main concern is
gonna be getting to the library. Priority number one. Comedy.
Anyway. Maybe the Ground Pellet was there before she partially cleaned up
my room. That would be a load off my back. If only I could get to
the Biblioteca, the Librarianino could translate for me. What else is
going on. I think it would be funny if the new Ghostbusters turned out to
be a shot-by-shot remake of the original. Not funny, per say.
Enjoyable from a distance, let's say that.
Crap, this is only the third paragraph? I've written so
much, though. That's no good. Three more classes this semester.
That's alright. Several more paragraphs this entry. That's no good.
I'm having reservations about watching Mr. Show with my Mom. That's like
having sex with your Mom watching. Because Mr. Show is Sex. Anyway,
what else and crap. I had to share my e-mail with a classmate,
firstname.lastname@example.org, and he started
talking some crap about Oh, an E.E. Cummings reference! And I was
like, Nope, a Professional Wrestler Reference. Then he lost respect
for me at an astounding rate of half a second. Where does he get off,
knowing smart stuff and crap. Makin' the rest of us look foolish.
He was the one who wrote the Choose Your Own Adventure. Redeemed!
Except not in that order. You can't redeem yourself before you do the
thing that needs redeeming. That's just basic knowledge.
Anyway, crap and crap. Then someone else I had to share
my e-mail with was like, Yeah, I know Mankind! And I was like,
Yeah, stuff it, I don't need your pity. That's how class goes I guess.
What else and crap. I told them it was from fifteen years ago, to qualify
why I had a wrestler in my e-mail. Then I realized they were born roughly
almost fifteen years ago. Anyway. Way back when, shoulda gone
That's how I feel. I feel like I could get away with a five paragraph
entry today on account of the lengthiness of the paragraphs. Anyway.
When your foot falls asleep, what does it dream of? And lose your
respect for me in five... four... three... Seems like too long of a time
to lose your respect. You must have lost it right when the sentence is
over. You don't have time to keep respecting me on the off chance the next
sentence has me redeeming myself. That's no good.
Crap and crap! I stick with that e-mail because it's
like someone saying about me, "Man, Kind Guy." That's me. Mr.
Kindness. And also a Guy. Last I checked. Also, Man is an
appropriate and congenial, I guess it's like a swear word? You swear by
it. It's an exp... excl.... one of these things. Let me figure it
out. Exclamation? Sort of an exclamation. That might be what
I'm trying to say. Or it might not be. I could care less.
Because I care so much. Anyway, crap and crap. Half of my shirts
are at least somewhat about politics. My Brother, who works for Nyperg,
has all sort of shirts about Fracking and Voting and all that nonsense.
ANd now I have a Bernwald Sanderson shirt. And I have an Obama shirt that
doesn't fit me anymore. Political Commentary! No it isn't.
But you could imagine what it'd be like if it was, though, right?
You have a good imagination. You imagine this is
worth the time it takes to read. A+ Imagination! Anyway.
I can't watch Mr. Show with my Brother. It's like my Brother watching
me have sex. I can't watch Mr. Show with a girl. That'd be like
having a threesome. Why can't I do that. Choose your own
adventure. What else and crap. Sometimes I think about it and it's
really cool that we have a Moon. Without a Moon, all this would go to
putt. Earth's no good without a Moon. Huh? Anyway, what
else and bullshit. I keep digitally signing my name for petitions from
Bernie Sanderwald and Barackathon Obamastein. Figure as long as it's
legit-ly them, they wouldn't steer me wrong. Probably not, at least.
What else. This is the seventh paragraph. Almost
at ten! Just a bunch more paragraphs to go. It's gonna be tough for
Trump to pick a VP candidate. People in the establishment won't want that
job. People outside the establishment can't help him win. It's a
really conundrumum. I can't wait till Bernie or Hillary pick a VP.
Someone new to get all excited about. I hope it's Obama!
That's probably legal one would imagine. My Teacher spoke to the U.N.
yesterday. That's pretty impressive. I couldn't speak at the U.N.
even if I wanted to. They wouldn't have me. I'd be, "Wasting their
time," and, "Making everyone in the room dumber for listening to me."
Do those quotes imply I've conversed with The U.N. about possibly
speaking there? Sure, why not.
My favorite bullshit comment to say when commentating on
other stories, when I didn't really grasp what the plot was or anything about
it, is, I like how it has an implied sense of humor. Surprisingly
correct in the majority of cases. Why wouldn't it, these kids wanna keep
up with the Implied Sense of Humor Master-- Me. That's how I feel for some
reason. It was a few sentences. That's good. Anyway, this is
the point of no return. If I wanna come up with a legit "best sentence,"
in the way that she's probably expecting, I got this weekend to do it.
Then we fall back to plan B-- "Not Guilty!" The more I say it the more I
feel like it's pretty strong. There's just that moment, assuming she or
they get it at all, that they don't get it. Then when they finally get it,
the most appropriate reaction is, What a Retard.
I'll take it. Being a Retard isn't so bad. It has an
implied sense of humor that I can really get behind. Anyway. I'll
watch some Mr. Show with my Mom. Who cares. What else and crap.
Two paragraphs to go. Jeez. Maybe my Teacher can be Vice President.
She's got the chops. Anyway. And I had an old teacher who was
friends with the person who did Lamb Chop. She's got the Chops, too, I
guess. That was Kindergarten. Where I learned to be a Man,
Kind Guy. What do you mean it's German? I don't Hablo
German. The good news is I'm almost done. With life, with the
entry, with being stupid, take your pick.
Last paragraphizzle. Whattado with my weekend. So
far I've narrowed it down to either Nothing or Some Other Way Of Accomplishing
Nothing. Can't decide just yet. I'll see ya later.
Tuesday, May 3, 2016
You Can Call Me Mothra
Started out as a potential
tweet! It woulda been, When I have kids, I'm gonna make them call their
mother Mothra, and call me... then I blanked out for thirty minutes and
thought Papyrus? Is that any good? There's no Mothra-counterpart
that has syllables that a kid might call their father. Then I realized I
didn't care anymore and went on with my busy, busy day. FrontPage
doesn't recognize Mothra as a word. If only. If only we lived in
a universe where Mothra wasn't a thing. All the destruction Mothra has
called. It's sobering just to even conceive of it. There's
another tweet I decided against. The word, "Conceive," reminded me.
You'll find out why soon. I used to have phantom phone vibrations in my
pocket when I was younger. This was when it was still conceivable someone
might be calling me. Too clunky for a tweet. Crazysheet, though?
The more bullcrap the better.
Great! I bragged about my tweeting in class.
What did we do over the Spring Break. Well, I'll tell you how I
spent the last two weeks that I had all to myself-- put stupid sentences on the
internet! Life Well Lived. Anyway. My next class is Intro II
Philosophy. That's no good. Probably a lot of work. And I
don't get to hand in four pages of jokes twice a semester. Unless I think
of some Philosophy jokes. Note to self: Google Philosophy Jokes.
Yeesh. I like that philosopher who went, I Think, Therefore, I Am.
Right? That's Gotta Be a Thing, Right? Humbled it up a little
bit. Anyway. Here's another bullshit tweet I'm not gonna bother with.
I count my blessings every day that I've never been on in a Speed-Type Scenario
on a bus. Why. Who knows. Crap and crap. That's
right. After years of crap and crap this is the logical way it goes.
At least it doesn't end up in a Speed-Type Scenario.
I don't know. I haven't written an entry in a
while. Hey, it's May! May the third be with you. No way is
there ever gonna be a date that that's more relative than today. Certainly
not tomorrow. Nope, definitely not. Anyway, crap and crap.
Another tweet I eliminated from tweeting half a second after I thought of it,
yesterday-- "My height is the same as the date." I don't need to say that.
It'd be stupid. Anyway. I thought of some plot holes in superhero
movies recently. I can't remember any of them. Oh, right. The
X-Man who can move really fast. Does he exist in time like we do, and just
can perform an action really fast, but being conscious as the same speed as us?
Or is he really living in really slow motion and that's why he does everything
fast to us, but to him, he's really going through the motions. If it's the
second one, man, what a bummer.
Issues these are, of the real type variety. You would
think, logically, it'd have to be the second one. In our understanding of
the universe, the first one is more palitable. But, let's be real,
scientifically speaking, it's the second one. Where am I. What am I
doing. Who are you. Crap and crap. My Mom was talking to me
about Wilmore's speech on Saturday and used the N-word in completion and I was
like, Woah, Woah, Woah. I don't want to hear you say that. If
we're using the word, the least we can do is take out the, "Er," and use an,
"A." That I can live with. Or we can just not use the word.
Yet again, I vote for option B. Anyway, crap and crap. Where am I
again. Still here. Crap and bullshit. I gotta say, the
hospital I go to twice a month for therapy visits and blood tests, they got some
good music now in the waiting rooms. For years an years, it was just the
same three Elevator-Music songs on a loop. Now they got classic rock.
It's a real joy, I say. Also, they advertised during the Super Bowl!
We're talking Taco Bell level promotional campaign.
If they wanted to, could a billionaire just spend three
hundred million dollars buying up all the ads during the Superbowl? Seems
like it would be a fun way to throw away your money. Either that, or
donate to John Kasich. Zing'd 'Em. Now that it's a new month,
and been a while since last entry, aybe I can get in a groove of not having to
write fifteen paragraphs a day. Today is the first day of the rest of my
life of only writing five or ten paragraphs a day. Freedom has never
tasted so sweet. What else. I think it's great the Hospitals
spend money on commercials. You know, I wasn't feeling any illness or
anything, but I guess I can go to a hospital right about now. Thanks a
lot RomneyCare. Anyway. Today is the Indiana Primary. More
commonly known as The day we can probably stop caring about this crap for
maybe four or five months. I guess.
Bullcrap and shiznat. Apparently Mr. Show is on HBO
Go. Now I get to introduce it to my Mother. Provided she can go a
half hour with spouting a barrage of racial slurs. If that's the way it's
gonna be, I'm gonna stay upstairs in my room! Zero tolerance for bigotry.
Zero. Maybe even my Dad'll be exposed to some of it. He loves a good
laugh. He inspired me with humor from an early age. When he used to
bathe me, he would make up stories and then during the stories make up fake
commercials. Liked it then, love it now. That's a Papyrus one can be
proud of. Anyway. I like the idea that I'm doing all these great
Tweets and I have three or four followers. Such a concentrated audience.
I can tailor my Tweets specifically for them. Hey, you know what it's
like being related to me, right? Get aload of this!
I guess. Tomorrow is Studio 54. Which is a
thing a Movie told me. I wanna say a Disco. Apparently Hillary
Clinton is money laundering with political donations or something.
Sure, the Woman Candidate is laundering. Where do you get off.
Where does she get off. Where do we all get off. I don't know, what
else and crap. First she's gonna say she voted for money laundering
before she voted against it! Not sure what that accomplishes.
The good news is this is the seventh paragraph. The interesting thing is,
though, she only got .79 cents to the dollar of the money she laundered.
Comedy! Crap and crap. Stupid Philosophy Class. I can't
act like a goofball jerkoff in a philosophy class. That sort of thing is
frowned upon. I workshopped a story today that was a Choose Your Own
Adventure. Of course. I got through two pages liking it, it was
funny and relatable and great, and then I got to the first Adventure Choosing,
and I was like, Of course. Of course it's a choose your own adventure.
Brilliant. If he can write a choose your own adventure for a story, no
reason I can't write, Not Guilty! for the best sentence we've ever
That's my take away from it. I can't add at the bottom
of the page, It's A Pun. I'm counting on her to figure that out for
herself. Which may or may not take more attention than she is prepared to
give. Anyway, what else. Workshopping a Choose One's Own Adventure
Story, though, I have to read it all the way through, like a Chump. I'm
not here to have fun, I'm here to be a reliable and responsible and thoughtful
audience. All the way through it goes. Anyway. The Teacher
didn't know what Choose Your Own Adventures were. I had to explain it
cause the author can't talk during his workshop. Looks like the
student has become the guy who explain something to the teacher on the odd
occasion. I don't know. I might end up writing fifteen
paragraphs. I got some time to kill before the Metropolitans game.
Great. What else. Too bad I couldn't have
said I worked on music over the Spring Break. Then she could have been
like, Really, what music, can I listen to it, and give you money and
praise for it? But I didn't. And that kind of reaction is a
little overblown for some twenty odd tweets. I find it interesting that I
wrote over a hundred songs in 2014-Early 2015 and don't have a clue on how to
play even one of them. And they're all mediocre at best guitarwise,
nothing complicated. Just some chords that escape my grasp. Anyway,
oh well. These things happen. The good news is eventually I'll find
someone who will be remotely intersted in this. All we have to do now is
play the waiting game. I love that game!
Almost as good as the
doing-stuff-to-see-something-to-fruition game. That's a pretty fun game.
Anyway. I had to give a Urine Sample yesterday. Now's My Time To
Shine. Great. What else. I like Urinetown. Yer In
Town, You see Urinetown. I'm hip to their jive. Got started on a
new palindrome. So far all I has is Emit Time. Getting started is
the hardest part, though, right? I'll keep you updated on how this
situation progresses. I was looking at something on Google that's supposed
to be the World's Longest Palindrome, but a good 90% of it isn't words.
Where do they get off with that bullshit.
Eleventh Paragraph! Now we're talking. Well,
typing. And not us, just me. You're reading presumably. I
don't know. Stupid No Class That Involves Creative Writing. What am
I supposed to get gratification from. I don't know. Just.
Don't. Know. Anyway, Hi! A little Inside The Bloggers Studio
54 here-- Just spaced out for twenty minutes. The good news is I'm
here and back on track for doing this for fifteen paragraphs for some reason!
You know what that maens. Only four more paragraphs after this one.
There's the ultimate, the penultimate, the prepenultimate and the
somewhatgettingclosetoultimate. That's how I feel and whatnot. How
come no one cares about their penultimate words. Forget Last Words, I
wanna see some Penultimate Words. That would be real interesting.
Okay. Hi. Still here. I guess Dinner is on
deck, for after this entry. So many choices. Gotta narrow it down to
one. Last night I was thinking about getting Nathans from Queens College
and bringing it home to eat later. Today I decided not to because iI
ain't got time for that crap. Also, it would be hard to choose.
Fish sandwich or chicken sandwich. Hot dog or French fries. Credit
Card or Cash. I can't handle all that. I don't know. Anyway,
what the what. There's a Nathans near my house, but it's a combo Subway/Nathans,
and I've been in there dozens of times, no one is ever manning the Nathans
section. Don't know quite what to make of that.
I guess three more paragraphs. I can get there at this
rate of bullshit short paragraphs. Man, I wish I was May Third
tall. It would cut my difference in height from the average woman by
half! That's how I feel. I feel kind of cheated that I didn't come
of age in an era where there were cigarette vending machines. When I was a
young child we used to go to a supermarket and my Mom would get vending machine
cigarettes. I think. Coulda been lotto tickets. I feel like
they had both, though. That's my story, and I'll stick to it if I have to
in a court of law and somewhat. Or I'll just plead ignorance. I
believe that's the 38th amendment. You have the right to plead ignorance
wherever you want to. And I want to Everywhere and All The Time.
Okay. Penultimate paragraph time. Gotta make it
count. I've always had a fondness for ignorance. Unintelligence,
that's bad, you're at fault there. Ignorance? You just don't know
about that thing in particular. That's not so bad. We can't all know
everything. You just ignore it. That's it. Probably where the
word comes from. You ignore that subject. Makes sense. I don't
know. Why is this fifteen paragraphs. Seems like the kind of quality
you'd be okay with spending ten seconds for. This much is pretty much
crap. What else, what else... I like looking at Super Nintendo and
Nintendo 64 games on Wikipedia. Hey, I remember that picture on the
game cartrige! How could I forget! Some of my favorite games got
mixed reviews, though. What do they know. Ken Griffey Jr. Presents
Major League Baseball had hour upon hour upon hours of re-playing value.
Good news is, last paragraph. We're just about
there. The appropriate response to my Sentence Assignment is Pun.
Great. All you need, two words. What else and crap. Maybe
It's Punderful if you wanna give praise. I don't know. Time to
close it up. Some more sentences. That'll do the trick. Let's
see. Four months. That's September. That's a fair time to
start getting invested again, right? In the mean time we can talk about, I
don't know, what. Who knows. Gotta be something. One would
imagine. Either way, crap and crap. Don't mean to brag, but the
pressure of my urine stream has gone up recently. It's like I'm a kid
again! That's part of being a kid, right? Impressive urine stream?
Probably. I'll see ya later.