November 1, 2013
This Better Be Good
Hooray! I mean, I knew it would be November eventually, but it sure caught
me by surprise. "Surprise" is one of the most pleasant words in the
English language. It usually insinuates something very good and unexpected
is about to occur. Sure, there could be bad surprises. Like, say
North Korea drops a nuke on Japan. The headline would be, "Surprise!
Surprise Attack On Japan." And that's a patently bad thing, I think.
When we're born is really the first and biggest surprise birthday of our lives.
No one even knew it would be our birthday. Unless if it was a C-section.
After a c-section, when the doctor hands the mother her baby for the first time,
she could easily say, "I knew it!" No surprises there. As a prank,
after a mother gives birth, the doctor should hand her a kitten. Or maybe
a robot, and then say, "The revolution has begun!" So, Halloween was
yesterday. We bought maybe 5 or 6 bags of fun-sized candy, and we had a
total of 2 trick or treaters. We could have given them each two bags of
candy. But did we? I forget. Probably not. I wonder if
they have Halloween in prison. Sure, every time you go to a cell and say,
"trick or treat!" you risk getting raped, but the reward is CANNNNNNNDYYYYYY.
If I was Andy Dufrane in The Shawshank Redemption, when Red says, "I'm a man who
can get you things," I would have just said, "Get me candy. Lots of
candy." Because when your in jail, and you have a sweet tooth, you might
as well make the most of a bad situation.
So, it's raining today. This is pertinent information.
What isn't pertinent information? You got me. I like how in the
trailer for After Earth, Will Smith says, "Everything on this planet has evolved
to kill humans." Everything in my head has evolved to write crazysheet
entries. The mayoral election is next week. I'm voting for the guy
who's a career politician. You know career politicians are good, because
they spend their whole careers perfecting the art of representing the people.
Snort. De Blasio is most likely pretty good, though. That's what
they tell me. I don't trust them, though. They've led me astray too
many times. I wouldn't want a lead ashtray. I think lead is
flammable. Most ashtrays aren't flammable, for obvious reasons. I
don't get The Shawshank Redemption. Spoiler Alert: the main character
tunnels out of prison to freedom. What I don't get is, why did tunneling
through the wall work? It should have just gotten him into his neighbor's
cell. Another plot hole: there's a guy who shows up and proves the
innocence of the main character, and the main character tries to get him to
testify so he could be released. But, if that happens, they'll eventually
find out he was making a tunnel to escape, and then he'd have to stay in prison
for that crime.
Oh well. What else is up. I drank some coffee,
and now my heart hurts. That's not supposed to happen. My coffee mug
is from White Castle. It says, "White Castle: Real Good Coffee." It
also says, "Since 1921." I don't think White Castle was serving coffee in
1921. That was before coffee was even born. I remember my sophomore
year in college, I walked all the way from Water St. to midtown to get White
Castle, and I distinctively remember thinking, "This wasn't worth it." Oh
well. A journey of a ten thousand miles begins with a single step.
And most journeys of ten thousand miles just aren't worth it. That would
make a good car commercial. Voice Over: "A journey of a thousand miles
takes a single step," and then a car drives into frame. "Why not get there
quicker?" And then the car shoots off. I'd like to hire a taxi, and
then at a red light, get out of the taxi, and get up on the hood, and say, "I'm
the king of New York!" The taxi driver would be confused. And then
the taxi would hit an iceberg and we'd all drown. I think I once drank
Iceberg vodka. That's kind of like drowning. I think calling them
"icebergs" is pretty generous. I think "iceplot," or, "icesurface," are
more accurate. I guess for polar bears it could be a "burg." Not for
people, though. I don't know. I don't trust polar bears. Why
can't they just live in a warm climate like regular bears? Frankly, I
think they're trying too hard to be cool.
My dad was watching The Bad Seed, and I confused it with
Frankenstein. One of those movies is where a girl gets drowned, and the
other one is where a girl deserves to be drowned. So you could see how I
might make that mistake. I think they should start making crossover
movies, where famous monsters become superheroes, and famous super heroes start
killing people. Oh, Frankenstein's monster is saving us from Doc Ock!
Oh, Spiderman is terrorizing Bangkok! I don't think terrorizing Bangkok is
that super-villainy. "Someone's terrorizing Bangkok!" Most people
would be like, "Eh." It's already a pretty terrible place, as is.
I'd really like it if monsters became super heroes. Jor-El coming to
Freddy Krueger, "Now is the chance for you to redeem yourself." And he
becomes a good guy. Charles Lee Ray became a Good Guy. He still
killed innocent people, though. It was just a title for him, really.
I don't get why Chucky from Child's Play is such a scary villain. It's
basically the same as if a dwarf started killing people. He's pretty easy
to stop. Just pick him up and throw him at a wall. Problem solved.
The doll is probably even easier to kill, because he'll probably fall apart
easily. I assume the doll was made in China, to cut back on production
costs. I bet if Chucky was in the next Toy Story, the other toys would be
pretty congenial with him, but definitely wouldn't let him into their social
God, toys are so judgmental! They don't even know if
Chucky actually killed anyone, it's all just hearsay. I mean, I
would like to believe he killed people, so they could be right, but where's the
evidence? LET HIM BE YOUR FRIEND. It's 2013. If cowboys and
astronauts can be friends, then potato heads and serial killers could be
friends. I have a dream that all toys are created equal. Except for
Bill Cosby. He's better than other toys. Because he was a man.
Lets face it, people are better than toys. Anyway. I don't remember
particularly liking any toys as a child. I'm part of the video game
generation. When I was really young, I remember liking train sets, where
you make your own track with pieces of track. And I used legos, I
remember. And as an adult, I guess my guitars are sort of like toys.
But that's about it. I remember in 3rd grade, I had a portable electric
fan. That was pretty fun. And in college, I knew someone named Yot.
That's toy backwards. I remember when I was really young, I had these
towels I used to carry around, as some toddlers have "blankys," or whatever.
And I was really attached to them. But I remember, one day, when I was 2
or 3, I just woke up, and thought, "No more." And I went to my parents
bedroom, so they could see, and just threw them in the trash. We all gotta
grow up, sooner or later. I imagine. That's what I've been told, at
November 3, 2013
I Think You Should
internet! I had a weird "It's a Wonderful Life," type dream last night.
I won't go into details, mainly because I forget all of them, but suffice to
say, I woke up with a brand new attitude. Then after 20 minutes of
watching T.V., I became the exact same person as I was last night. A
curmudgeon who contemplates suicide. I don't know if Jimmy Stewart was
really a curmudgeon. I never saw the movie. I'm basing that more on
A Christmas Carol. Which I never read or saw. Also, I don't really
contemplate suicide. I'm a fan of handball. Suicide is too
simplistic for me. In elementary school, we used to play suicide in the
yard. It's like Spin the Bottle, but the person who the bottle lands on
has to kill themselves. It's really more of assisted suicide, I guess.
We also used to play Freeze Tag. That's a good game for out of shape
people. Just get frozen, and you can sit down and twiddle your thumbs.
I've never twiddled anything. I don't think. I'm pretty sure
underage twiddling is against the law in this state. Of course, I am of
age. I still don't see the point in twiddling, though. Frankly, I
think it's a little gross. Unsuccessful movies have a little gross.
Are you impressed I know homonyms? Cause I am. Gross(e) is also
French for oil. Are you impressed I speak French? I know how to say
oil, thank you, and Buongiorno.
Sounds like America's foreign policy for the middle east! BAM.
That's funny if you forget that we're involved in two wars there. You
might have forgotten. It's okay, I forget sometimes too. Qué,
I looked up grosse online and it didn't say anything about oil. My
French/English dictionary lied to me! I'm putting that book on my, "things
to assist in suicide" list. Man, is that disappointing.
I bet dead people are really good at freeze tag. If you
think you win by being frozen. Which some people might. I got tagged
and now I'm frozen! I WIN! Sit down and have a sandwich, or
something. It makes sense. Ah, grasse is oil. I was this
close! That means I was as close as italics is to regular. And it
actually means, "oily," not "oil." Oil is the oiliest thing there is,
though. They should have dunk tanks, where instead of dunking the person
in water, they dunk them in oil. I'd laugh heartedly at such a thing.
No way I'm misusing any of those words. I think there's a movie where
someone holds a gun to someone else, and then it turns out it's a water gun, and
they think they're okay, but then they shoot them with oil and set them on fire.
I'm 100% sure that happened in a movie, and I think that's great. I think
oil should run for president in 2016. Imagine the campaign rallies.
"Oil! Oil! Oil!" Oil would be a shoe-in. Or at least the
Beverly Hillbillies. They'd be a good president. I had a dream a
couple of nights ago that I got Newport 200s. What dreams
may come. When you're drilling for oil, is it more like you're jerking the
Earth off, or butt fucking it? Or is it both? These are questions
that need answers. I guess it depends on if you see oil as cum or shit.
I hope in most butt fucking equations, you don't actually make the recipient
shit. "Oh, I made you cum shit!" That's the oiliest thing I've ever
Anyway, let's get back on track. I was almost gonna go
on a 2 day trip to Atlantic City this week, but my parents nixed that idea.
I was looking forward to a little vacation, but oh well. My parents'
argument was valid, that as I sometimes get freaked out when I'm seeing a movie
and have to go home, they're worried I'll get anxious there, and be stuck there.
I don't think it would have happened, I think I would have been more
calm, but whatever. It does kind of suck, though, being practically 25,
and having my parents tell me what I can and can't do. But, hey, it's a
wonderful life. I was playing computer poker on my phone, and I made a
straight flush! Who needs Atlantic City now?! I like playing
computer poker, because I just go all in every hand, and if the computer's about
to win, I shut the program down. I'm unstoppable! I mean, you might
say, "Where's the fun in that?" but given the rules and regulations, I'm
maximizing my virtual profit by playing that way. So who's laughing now?
We gained an hour of time overnight. I woke up at 6:30. What genius
came up with this idea? I'm not supposed to be up this early!
So, what else is new. I would like to take this
opportunity to remind my readers to please check out my music page. Just
click the link that says, "Music" on the left, and you'll be directed to a page
that includes 40 of my original songs. They're not that great, but they're
not that bad, either. Well, they're pretty bad. But they're also
partly okay. And also, 1 song is a cover. But which one is it?
Only I know. Well, and you, if you're familiar with the title.
Anyway. I hate taking a drag of a cigarette and then getting smoke in my
eye. It makes me wink, and you know what that means. You don't?
Well, I'm not gonna tell you. How do you like them apples. Also, I
don't like candied apples. Aren't apples sweet enough? Some people
just don't know when enough's enough. I'm thinking about having another
Bar Mitzvah. "Come join Michael as he becomes a man... Again!" I'll
put it to you this way, I've done some questionable things since first becoming
a man, and would appreciate the blank slate. I remember I ditched my own
Bar Mitzvah party to go hang out at a friends house. It wasn't a big
party, like most people have, it was just a lunch in another room of the
synagogue, but still. That was a jerk move.
I wonder if Richard Simmons ever comes onto a guy, and then
says, "I made a Straight flush!" Is Richard Simmons really gay? Who
knows. I mean, I know he's really gay, but is he really gay?
Who knows. I like how Macklemore's song, "Same Love" is a pun.
Because it's like, homosexuality is equal to heterosexuality, and also,
homosexuality is, "same love," because you love the same gender as you.
Wonderful. "Homo" as a prefix literally means, "same." We learned
that from our fun with homonyms. I just made a virtual $5000 dollars with
two pair, with Q10 vs JK. Virtual Johnny Chan is such a sucker. I
like how you could call unskilled people, "fish." There's a block of
sidewalk in my neighborhood that someone marked, "fish" into it before it was
dry. Now every time I walk by it, I think the sidewalk's insulting me.
Thumbs down! Oh, you're busy twiddling your thumbs. Well, once
you're done with that, thumbs down! Anyway. I saw a commercial, I
think for Long John Silvers, where they offer fried lobster. That's pretty
Long John Silvers is too suggestive a name. Thumbs down. Thumbs down
is too suggestive an expression. Thumbs down. Anyway, I guess we're
done here. In conclusion, I support legalized marijuana.
Do More Things
Really? Second entry in two days?
I took a walk out my front door, and into the street.
I almost got hit by 13 or 14 cars.
It's been a while since I left my house, and I didn't go far
I was listening to the radio, thinking about alcohol,
And I totally got song fucked. Song fucking is when a
Hits you hard, both in the brain and in the heart
I highly don't recommend it cause it can really cause you
So don't listen to the radio, shit, fuck, blah blah blah
This website really sucks, but you can be the judge
Anyway, I can't find
my ID. I guess I wouldn't have been able to go to A.C. anyway. I
shouldn't leave my house, anyway. I mean, my parents are cool, I know
them. But other people? Leave something to the imagination!
The world is weird. You'd think being here 25 years would give me at least
a B- understanding of things, but really, it's more like 46% of things.
And 71& of what I do understand is, "Don't die." How much percent of
things is, "Don't die?" Facebook me the answer. Actually, you can't
know, because a fraction of what I don't know can also be, "Don't die." So
send me the range of percent it can be. Anyway. I want to go back to
college. College is a land of knowledge. Also, boobies. But
mostly, beer. It's been four years since I've been in a college dorm.
The last time I dormed, I had a gay roommate, which isn't weird, and another gay
suitemate, which isn't weird, but they were a couple... before signing up for
the room. Which is weird. Maybe they thought being in the same room
would take the spice out of their relationship, but being twenty feet away was
fine. I don't know. God didn't put me on this planet to judge.
You be the judge. That's why God put you on this planet. To judge.
Just kidding. No one should judge anyone. Unless
if you're on the X-Factor. And if you are? If you're a contestant,
good luck! May the force be with you. Hi-Yo! Because, "May the
force be with you" is what Johnny Carson says. I remember seeing Star Wars
in theaters when they rereleased it for it's twenty year anniversary. I
remember seeing Obi Wan Canobi fighting, and thinking, "What is this crap?"
I had never seen it before. And why is it called, "The force?" If I
wanted to learn about physics, I would have stayed in high school! I
actually took physics twice. The second professor let us cheat on tests.
That's why I didn't take physics three times. And because I thougt physics
was about carbonated beverages was why I took physics four times. And
because I thought carbon dating was when sodas went out with each other was
because why I'm an idiot.
Anyway. I'm gonna have some dinner, then go to sleep.
It's a regular Suite Life of Zach & Cody up in here. I assume. I
never saw the show. But if I did... Hello. It would be cool if one
day, I open up the door to my room, and there was a naked girl in my bed.
Then I could take her photo and masturbate to it later. I don't have a
camera. What am I, a millionaire? I don't even have a bed.
What do I live in, a hotel? I wish. I imagine Zach & Cody live in a
hotel, hence the, "Suite" pun. Man, do I get easily confused, though.
Anyway. I'm possibly thinking about doing another music open mic in the
next couple of weeks, if anyone wants to go. I don't really wanna go
alone. That way I can get song fucked in person. Oh, baby. I
can't believe Paul McCartney died. I loved The Velvet Underground!
I'm always sad when people die. I'm happy when they stay alive.
That's the antithesis. I assume. I didn't pay attention that day in
English class. Wannak now what makes an English muffin? It's a
muffin that says, "Ahoy Guvnah!"
Ugh. Anyway. This has been a fun entry. Now
it's time to say goodbyes. See ya! Adios! Hasta luego!
FiOS On Demand! Port Washington branch! The Dark Knight Rises!
Occupied! Ringo Starr! Anyway. Life is strange. But we
try to make the most of it, don't we? That's not a rhetorical question.
Facebook me your answers. I'm thinking about buying two iPhones, so they
could be friends with each other. Yawn. I gotta figure out what to
do with my life. So far, my plan has been, "Do what people tell me."
So far it's worked out alright. I guess I could have crab cakes for
dinner. I meant that as an inner monologue. You weren't supposed to
see it. Sorry. If I have crab cakes, though, I'd want to make a
sandwich out of it, to make it more of a meal. Otherwise, it's not really
enough. I'm surprised more people, when they have a vendetta against the
owners of a restaurant, don't order extravagant meals to be sent to fraudulent
addresses. It seems like a pretty good plan to me.
November 5, 2013
I Guess This Title Is
Holla. What's going on in the world. It's election day! The
porn parody of today would be, "Erection Day." Also the Chinese version.
Because they can't pronounce words like regular people. That's why John
Liu didn't get the nomination. Every time he told a constituent his name,
they said, "Bless you." The WSOP Hold Em final table is down to 2 people,
who will face each other tonight. I'm rooting for, as I do in anything
where I have nothing else to go on, the shorter guy. He's currently the
chip leader, so that's good. I haven't played poker with a real person in
years. I think if I was at the final table, I would just go all in every
hand without checking my cards. That'll get people's attention.
That's what poker players are playing for, right? Attention?
Besides, worst case scenario, is they call and have you dominated... and you
still have a 20-40% chance of winning! If you won the final table by just
going all in every hand, people would remember you forever. Probably as,
"The Guy Who Ruined Poker." I don't have the discipline to play poker
anymore. I used to play all night, but I think now I'd start losing focus
after 20 minutes. Because I'm on drugsies. My channel 11 isn't
working. That's the Maury/et al. channel. What kind of sorcery is
Good news! I no longer have to sleep with a night
light! I wish that was a joke. Since I've been out of the hospital,
a year and a half ago, I always used to leave the T.V. on, on mute. But
now, darkness does not scare me! It's just the opposite of light.
What's so scary about that? The other opposite of light is heavy.
"This is heavy, Doc." "No, Marty, it's dark! When it's night time,
we say it's dark, not heavy!" "You're right, Doc." Just some
dialogue from a movie. Sometimes, when I'm using the toilet in a McDonalds
or something, and they have the kind of lock where you push the button in, I get
paranoid that that's not really a, "lock" button, so I try to relieve myself
really quickly. So far, no one's walked in on me... but no one's ever been
at the door, either. So I guess I'll just have to continue not knowing
until fate steps in. And the toilet is always set up, so that if someone
walks in, they get a view of everything. Personally, I think the people
who design the bathrooms of public places are probably voyeurs, themselves.
It makes me sick. They have those kind of locks on the bathrooms on LIRRs.
And that's the worst, because you don't want someone to walk in on you on a
train, because then the whole train will know about it.
That paragraph was fun. Night lights and bathroom talk.
Welcome to my world, holmes. I started drinking soda out of a coffee mug.
Then I stopped. With good reason! Actually, with no reason.
Except that it just didn't feel right. I'd like to design and build the
world's biggest coffee mug, and then the guy from the Guinness Book of World
Records will come, and he'll just sarcastically say, "Yeah. You did it."
Then roll his eyes. I'm really doing it all for that reaction. It
would amuse me. So, I guess on January 1st, Bill De Blasio is going to be,
"America's New Mayor." I hope the rest of the country is ready for
his progressive views on things such as progression. He's married to that
woman from the Progressive car insurance ads, I think. They make a cute
couple. It does force the question, though, is America ready for
Progressive car insurance? I guess we'll find out. It does have the,
"Name your price," tool. That should be popular among politicians.
Anyway. I'm not here to judge. I'm here to
entertain. Or to fill time. I forget. I like how on election
day, kids get the day off, but teachers still have to show up. I guess
they teach each other. I remember, my first job was as a camp counselor,
at the elementary school in my neighborhood. All I remember was, I was
helping counsel the pre-K class, and I would just sit in a corner and read
Jurassic Park. The book. I remember wishing I could counsel the
older kids, so I could play kickball and dodgeball. Oh well. At
least this way, I learned the pretty significant plot differences between
Jurassic Park the movie, and Jurassic Park the book. And then promptly
forgot them. I also remember reading them some short story I wrote, for
some reason. This was when I was like in like 6th or 7th grade. I
think I must have had an assignment the previous year in school to write a short
children's story, or something. It's not even 5:00, and it's already
getting dark out! I'm scared! Hold me. It would be cool if
someone installed a laser light show to play on their ceiling. Cool, or
extravagantly boring? I mean, by the second night, you'll be like, "I saw
this one before!" So there goes that idea. I'm down to 142 pounds.
I've lost over 50 pounds since January. It's because I'm awesome. I
still want to lose another 15 or so, but I got all the time in the world!
Well, at least like fifty or sixty years. And then, after I die, I'll lose
all that pesky water weight. And all weight, except for bones. And
then, even those will disappear. It would be funny if Marty Macfly gained
200 pounds, surprised Dr. Brown at his home, and said, "This is heavy, Doc!"
Yep. So, the YouTube awards were this past Sunday.
I'm still waiting for the Facebook awards. That way, when the winner says,
"You like me! You really like me!" they'll really mean it. So, in
conclusion, get out there and vote. Polls don't close for another four
hours. I would have voted, but I'm not registered. And I'm not
registered to protest how easy it is to register. If idiots like me can
vote, the country must be in bad, bad shape. For those of you who can't
understand sarcasm, that joke included it. I am not in favor of
citizenship tests or other such things to be a requirement for voting.
Except for not allowing early voting in places where the tendency to vote early
runs high in Democrats. That just makes sense. For those of you who
can't understand sarcasm, you should have learned how to understand sarcasm by
now. I already explained it to you once! Back when I was camp
counseling, I asked a kid, "Do you understand sarcasm?" and he said, "What's
that?" and I was like, "Are you fucking with me?" Anyway. Peace
November 6, 2013
And That's The End of
Hello. I really should write the entries before I write the title. I
have no idea if this entry will convey the message of, "And that's the end of
that chapter," or not. Surely, the entry will end. So that will be
the end of this chapter. In addition, the existence of this entry
ends the chapter of either this website, my life, or some situation in the world
that preceded the titling. I used to be scared that a homeless man was
living in our attic. I've never even been in the attic, it's really small,
and if you put too much weight up there, in certain spots, it will collapse.
I remember when I was really young, I misinterpreted this information, and
imagined the attic literally having holes in the floor. You'd think
looking up and seeing a complete ceiling would have settled that confusion for
me, but no way. I still have never seen what the attic looks like.
Even with living in this house for 25 years, there's still some mystery left.
Wonderful. I would go up there and check, but I don't want to risk the
floor collapsing, and then saying, "Oh my God, I'm so sorry!" to my
parents. I don't particularly want to go up there, anyway. What
would I say to the homeless man who lives there? I guess if he lives in
our attic, he's not really homeless. But this freeloader doesn't even pay
any rent. And he's always watching me through the vents. What's he
If I was homeless, I'd just go door-to-door, and ask, "Can I
live here for awhile?" until someone says yes. Pretty straightforward
stuff. Why don't homeless people just commit crimes so they can go to
prison? I mean, I'm sure some small percentage of them do do that, but why
don't they all? Maybe they just love the homeless lifestyle. No
rules, no one saying what you can and can't do, all the public urination you
could imagine. I once peed in a subway station. I don't think that's
real outlandish. If I made a habit of it, fine, that's no good. But
once? C'mon. And by subway station, I mean I peed over the extra
ingredients section in a Subway. What? I had to go! No one's
gonna notice. It's Subway, for Christ's sake. It's probably
healthier than ranch dressing. Does urine even have calories? I'd
like to play a poker hand, and say, "I'm in," and then the dealer will say,
"Urine." And I'll be like, "Yeah, what of it? I like puns.
Just deal the cards, asshole." And then he'll say, "No, the ante is
urine." And I'll be like, "Oh yeah, where are my manners." I don't
know what kind of depraved people are gambling with urine. That reminds me
of a friend I had in middle school, who, at sleepovers, always wanted to play a
game called "Soggy Biscuits," where each person cums on a cookie, and the first
person who can't produce any more cum has to eat the cookie. At the time,
he made the game seem exciting, but now I'm starting to question the intentions
and character of a man who really wants to play Soggy Biscuits.
Also, maybe it's just me, but it seems like the first person who can't cum
anymore will be the person who went first, on the second go-around. Unless
you give him, at the very least, another half hour or so. And that story
reminds me of a time when me and my brother were younger, and we told our dad
that we wanted something called "Cherry Biscuits" from Dunkin Donuts. We
made it up, just to mess with him, and he totally went there and asked for
cherry biscuits, and they told him they didn't have any. It was a story we
would remember for years to come. That reminds me of a story where my mom
had cancer and had to have surgery. Those were grave times.
She's okay, now though. Just to clear the air. I
keep telling her to quit smoking, though. I tell her, if she quits
smoking, I'll quit smoking, as extra motivation. But she won't.
These are grave times. I also hope they legalize medical marijuana in New
York, because I think she could probably replace smoking tobacco with smoking
weed, which wouldn't kill her. Anyway. I'm not saying she wants to
smoke weed, by the way. Just to clear the air. That's all my idea.
And I'm not saying the guy who wanted to play soggy biscuits wanted to
eat cum. I'm just relating the facts of a story in a way to make it more
interesting. Maybe he just wanted to watch his friends eat cum. I'm
not here to judge. Man, this entry really went off the rails. So,
this Obamacare stuff is going on. I don't get the big deal. OH, THE
WEBSITE IS HAVING DIFFICULTIES. I NO LONGER APPROVE OF THE PRESIDENT.
It's a technical issue of a website. Calm down. I don't really care.
The news doesn't effect me like it used to. Ever since I started thinking
everything was about me, everything else just went out the window. I
should clarify that that was a joke. I no longer think everything is about
me. Now, I think everything is about Spiderman. He's out there, and
people are really obsessed with him. This makes no sense.
Spiderman's lucky he lives in New York City. If he
lived in, like, Albany, he wouldn't be able to use his web as much to get
around. Unless he just uses his web to get around quicker at ground level.
We've never seen that from Spiderman, but there's no reason he can't do
it. In Spiderman, he invents the thing that makes the webbing, right?
What if some corporation figured out his design, and then everybody could use
it. I have a feeling he'd lose a lot of momentum if he didn't have
exclusive rights to his web use. Anyway. The Exorcist is on later.
I think I'm gonna try to watch it. I have said several times that's the
scariest movie in the world to me. And, even worse, after I see it, I'm
gonna have those pictures and sounds stuck in my brain. But, as a dear
friend once told me, we have to fight off our demons. I don't know why I
said, "dear friend." It was just someone in the hospital. Hospital
buddies are pretty important, though. They help hold together your social
fabric. Anyway. I'm probably gonna see a movie sometime this week.
It's between Ender's Game, Bad Grandpa, and Last Vegas. And nothing.
Nothing may win. Half because I just don't want to walk to the theater and
back. There's a big hill involved, and one of the ways includes going
up the hill, which I'm not a fan of.
Also instrumental in my decision is the likelihood of
rain. The likelihood of rain in my neighborhood. I got in one little
cloud, and my Mom got scared. She said you're moving with your Auntie and
Uncle to beneath the ground, where the rest of The Undergrounders live. I
mean, what? I was just looking through an old spiral notebook, and in the
back, they have a long list of frequently misspelled words. But in the
whole list, not one of the words is misspelled! False advertising.
Anyway. I'm doin' fine. Hmm, it has the words, "All right."
Does that mean alright isn't a word? Because Microsoft Frontpage would
have to disagree with you, there. Who do I trust, computer or notebook?
Or, forget this dilemma ever existed? Option three: check the internet!
AH! The exciting conclusion! Some people consider Alright
a word, some don't. Oh, is that it? That's great. That's
alright with me. I mean, it's all right. How come people
don't use the word, "University," to describe, "the qualities of the universe?"
Because they're urine betting-Spiderman obsessed- Exorcist watching
abnormalities! I think that's a good, new insult. You're an
abnormality! If someone called me an abnormality, I'd be really hurt.
That's the end of that chapter.
November 7, 2013
The Best Laid Plans
Hey friends. I ended up seeing Last Vegas yesterday. It was kind of
bittersweet, because you gotta assume this is at least two of them's last movie.
Just joshing. But seriously, they're old. I liked watching it,
though, because 80% of the crowd was old people, and old people are fun to be
around. They get it. I'm getting Chipotle later today.
That's always a highlight. I remember once, in 2010, I got chipotle from
around NYU, brought it back home, with a bottle of whiskey, and ended up
throwing up all over my floor. Good times, good times. Good times,
bad times, you know I've had my share. I forget how the rest of it goes.
Anyway. I ended up not watching The Exorcist last night. I was
talking about it with my mom, and just talking about it scared me. So I
called an audible and canceled the recording. There goes that. I
wonder if mute people call regular people, "audibles." Probably not,
because they can't talk. So, the month is winding down. Only 2 to 23
more days. Can you adopt people to be your grandchildren? Or your
niece or nephew? "Welcome home from the orphanage. This is your new
home. You can call me, "Uncle Mike." Why not. Did you know
humans and parrots are the only two animals that adopt children? Also,
cockatoos. I think for my birthday, since there's nothing else I can think
of getting, I might get Rock Band, or something. I like playing fake
guitar and fake drums. That would really clutter up my room. Every
great decision comes with great sacrifice. I don't like that adage.
I made it up, and I still don't like it.
Anyway. I had a dream last night that I was going to
get Chipotle, and then when I woke up, it turns out my Dad is going to a
doctor's appointment near where the Chipotle is, which are the only times I can
get Chipotle. What kind of sorcery is this. I hate it when stuff
like that happens. Even if the outcome is Chipotle. Or, as my
dad calls it, "Chip-aught-el." But yeah. I hate serendipity.
That movie was mega-boring. Serendipity is a pretty good stripper name,
though. I bet a lot of actors suffer from Post Dramatic Stress Disorder.
Sorry. I like how Teddy Roosevelt said, "Speak softly, but carry a big
stick." Why is Roosevelt fighting with sticks. My version of that
would be, "Speak loudly and carry around marbles." Or, "Wear glasses and
eat sushi." Or, "A stitch in time saves nine." Or, "Smoke cigarettes
and scowl at strangers." All good foreign policy options, in my opinion.
I don't like speaking softly and carrying around a big stick. You're
giving them a false impression by speaking softly. They have no idea
you've got a big stick in your back pocket.
I understand that I am consciously misinterpreting that
phrase. No fucking kidding. I bet the guy who played Jesse Pinkman
is rollin' in the pink, man. Eh. I had a heart murmur a few years
ago, and lately I've been having some heart pains. I should probably see a
doctor, instead of just saying it on my website. I've got healthcare under
my parent's plan till I'm 26. When I first got sick, that seemed like
forever. Now it's a year and a month. Or two years and a month,
probably. I assume year 26 is included in that. I'm watching Maury
in the background, not really paying attention, and suddenly I hear Maury say,
"You can't throw a woman in a garbage can!" What the Hell am I missing.
When I was a baby, my brother told my mother he wanted to throw me out in a
garbage can. 24 years later, I'm still upset about it. I'll get him!
I don't know how, though. So far, my plan has been to be congenial with
him, make him think I'm his friend over the course of our whole lives, and then,
when he least expects it, BAM. Hmm. I haven't figured out what to do
for the, "Bam," though. Write in your suggestions. Steal his
metrocard, maybe. He'll be at the bus stop, get onto the bus, and, Oh No,
discover he's missing his metrocard! Then I'll shake his hand and tell him
we're even. Then I'll rip up the metrocard in front of him, and say,
"Don't EVER cross me."
Anyway. No one tell him my plan. If he's
expecting it, he'll just have a back-up metrocard in his back pocket at all
times. And then where will I be? Anyway. I really shouldn't
rip up his metrocard, I could just keep it. Those things are valuable, to
varying degrees. It's a sin to waste metrocards. Man, time flies
when I'm writing these entries. I just get sucked in. I have to
re-learn how to stop taking it so seriously, though. The last couple of
weeks, I've been writing a lot, and sort of letting what I write and what I
determine as the quality of the entry to be to define the pace of the rest of my
day. It's just a 5 paragraph portion of silliness. That really
seems to entertain a lot of people. To the maximum amount
possible. All in all, though, it's just a big jerk off.
Last paragraph time. It's about to get crazy in
this sheet. Now, enter the courtroom of Judge Mathis. Oops, I heard
that on T.V. I could have sworn it was a voice in my head telling me what
to write. It's not confidential, I've got potential. Rushin, rushin
around. Oh, another mistake. That was a song playing, not my head,
again. If I was a doctor treating Gandalf, I would say, "It's not that
serious. This, too, shall pass." And then he'd say, "Thou Shall Not
Pass!" And then I'd say, "Look, it's a kidney stone. It's gotta pass
eventually, otherwise, you're going to be in a lot of pain for the rest of your
life." Then he'd be like, "I am the great Gandalf! I feel no pain!"
Then I'd get frustrated and tell him to leave my office. Psh. See ya.
November 9, 2013
Pants For No One to Enjoy
Hello freakazoids. Today is mega Saturday. I think this'll be a fun
entry. I'm basing that on nothing. There's nothing I can say to
convince you, though. You'll surely make up your own mind while reading
the rest of the entry. That's the secret word of the day! "Entry!"
Now let's all kiss under the mistletoe. Saying, "mistletoe," makes me want
to watch the British, "The Office." There's a reason for that, surely.
I remember the first time I ever drank alcohol, it was the first month of my
freshman year in NYU, and I went to Panchitos with my roommate and some of his
friends, and I ordered a Sex On the Beach. That's right, the gayest drink
in all of drinks, not counting man-come. Because I'm comfortable with my
sexuality! That's a lie. I'm sexually attracted to the E-T puppet,
and Cyndi Lauper. That's about it. And also to the cartoon Mr. Magoo.
And you. I'm sexually attracted to you. I often kiss you when
there's no one else around. I get lonely. That's upsetting.
How come in my high school gym, I never had to climb a rope, like I see in
television and movie depictions of gym? If I had to do that, I'd probably
climb to the top, and then realize it's not attached to anything, and it will
suddenly slip through my hands, and I'll stay in suspended animation for a
second and a half, and then fall down. I have two memories of high school
gym. One is when were playing whiffleball, and my gym teacher kept calling
me "The Captain," to boost my self esteem, and in one play, I was on third base,
and the pitcher wasn't paying attention at all, so I stole home (but my
teammates went, "No! No!" because they didn't trust my instincts).
The other thing I remember is doing a treadmill and staring at a girl I had a
crush on do weight training.
Oh yeah, pull those weights. I'm comfortable
with my sexuality! If only my sexuality was comfortable with me. One
day, my sexuality and myself will become one. Until we reach this
singularity, we will exist... in duality. I suppose. It's the second
paragraph. Surely, you've realized that. I was looking into getting
Rock Band for my birthday. I'm worried playing Rock Band alone will be
sad, like going to Six Flags alone. Why is it called "Six Flags?" I
know in the United Nations, there are six official languages. Could that
be it? No. That can't be it. I'm looking forward to Seven
Flags. I have an appointment with my endocrinologist next week. That
should be fun. The one good thing about going to the doctor is they
usually have magazines. I've been to some doctors where they should have
novels! Am I right? That's a novel idea. Ugh. I'm
also attracted to whoever the "Punk Rock Girl," the Dead Milkmen were singing
about. She sounds nice. I remember the second time I drank, I went
to a friend's dorm and had vodka. The only thing I remember was being
drunk in some girl's common room and stabbing the table through my hands, in
that rapid fire game type thing, and she thought I was suicidal. Surely,
she was overreacting. Blah. Mr. Magoo wouldn't judge me. He
wouldn't even be able to see me, which is pretty instrumental for anyone to be
in a relationship with me.
Anyway. What else is going on. I remember the
first night I spent in NYU, it was an overnight thing in the summer before
freshman year, so we could get acquainted with things. The main thing I
remember is trying to sleep, while my one-night suitemates were partying with
alcohol. One of them happened to be someone from my high school, but I was
still extremely shy, so I didn't join them. Oh well. You live and
learn, as someone said. Surely, they were talking about learning to drink
alcohol with strangers. Man, do I miss college. Do I? Yeah, a
little bit. But in my case, it's not sad, because I still have 40 credits
to complete. I guess it is sad. But for a different reason. I
remember visiting my brother in college when I was a sophomore in high school,
and listening to Sublime on the train ride to and from. I thought it was
the coolest thing in the world. And, in the middle of the day, he got
together some floor-mates to play poker, and I won. Alright! Yeah.
That's the end of that chapter. College is okay, but have they heard about
sleeping in your sheetless bed at your parents home every night from 8 P.M. to 7
A.M.? They have? And they think it's hilariously sad? Oh.
Never mind, then. That's surely a great way to interpret my living
situation. Nirvana has that song, "Rape Me," but I bet if someone really
raped them, they'd be pretty upset.
So that's that. That was stupid. College was half
a decade ago. It's time to move on. Unless college wants me back.
Do they? I better play hard to get. Tell college I'll think about
it! Life is weird. I used to know someone named Senor Weird.
True story. This is boring. That's how the story goes. I
remember in Hebrew School, I had a young teacher for a couple of months, and he
referenced the band Phish to make his lessons more relevant.
Unfortunately, none of us knew the band Phish. There were two girls named
Lindsey in our class, who were cousins, and they both showed unwarranted dislike
to me and my friends who were in the gifted class in regular school. I
once raised my hand to answer a question the teacher had asked, and one of them
said, "Show off!" I nicknamed one of them, "Monkey," and the other one,
"Sideburns." Because one of them looked like a monkey and the other one
had sideburns. I remember I had a crush on one girl in Hebrew School, and
I fantasized about us going to Stuyvesant together and becoming friends (and
maybe more?) Unfortunately, she didn't go to Stuyvesant. I was
thrown off by her glasses. So that was fun I guess. There's not much
more to that story. I remember that girl I liked referenced Eminem's "As
the World Turns" in her AOL profile, which I knew because I'm a low level
stalker. I'm a Sagittarius. That's a true fact. I wish I was a
Capricorn. It would make my name apropos. Surely, who cares.
Blah. I got two microphones and a turn table. I have to throw up.
But I won't. I'll show my gastrointestinal system who's boss. Calm
down. Surely, I was talking to my gastrothefucksical system. Here we
go. I remember half the time I would get dinner my freshman year of
college, Haley Joel Osment would be there in the same 20 person room in the
dinning hall room. See, I'm practically famous!
I guess that's interesting. I wouldn't put money on it,
though. Anyway. I need to rest my head. I'll finish this entry
first, though. Surely, you'll appreciate that. Ugh. I think
more people should floss in public. That's fun. I guess. What
else is new. I hate the word, "harpsichord." It can suck my dick.
Also, "artichoke." Fuck those words. No one needs them. I
think I'm going to start wearing glasses. I don't know. Maybe not.
Scratch that idea. Who cares. Life is weird. I haven't drank
Dr. Pepper in a long time. This is relevant stuff. I love drawing
boxes. Relevant! For real. Kangaroos are probably the most fun
animal name to say. You get both, "Kangaroos," and, "Marsupials," for the
price of one! Where else can you get such a great value. Ugh.
Surely, I'm going to finish this entry now. I might get pork chops for
dinner. because I'm a rebel and a rabble-rouser! Also, because I
love a good dinner. Most people don't know that about me. I also
love song lyrics, board games, names, directions, and religions. But
mostly, carbonated beverages. That's about it. Red Sox '13!
November 11, 2013
Why Don't You Make
Like a Tree And Convert Carbon Dioxide Into Oxygen
Hello all. Today is 11/11. It's cold outside! Every now and
then, I hear a train blow it's whistle from outside my house. The weird
thing is, there's no train near my house. I mean, I suppose it could be
the LIRR, which is more than a mile away. But trains aren't that loud.
Trains aren't that loud! I suppose it could be the Polar Express.
Probably not, though. That was a work of fiction. I don't like
watching reality T.V. shows about ghosts. What if the ghosts come through
the T.V. and decide to haunt me? That's why I'm scared to death of Casper.
I know he's "Casper, the friendly ghost," but that could just be a ruse
to gain your trust, and then when the timings right... "BOO!" If Casper is
such a good guy, why is his spirit trapped on Earth and not in Heaven or some
shit? Something tells me he's up to no good. Life must be pretty
monotonous for a ghost. Hang around, scare people. Do you even get
to sleep? I've never seen a ghost sleeping. They're always game for
something. Usually, a Ouija board. How come ghosts try to scare you
when they're being summoned by Ouija board. I'd probably send the message,
letter by letter, "Hi! Nice to be here! What's your name?" I
don't think Ouija boards have exclamation marks. I wonder if, for Ouija
boards, they're like twitter, and follow the 140 characters and less rule.
Otherwise, you'd probably get some boring, blowhard ghost boring you with his
life story. Or his death story. Or his after-death story.
Since trees die to make paper, I wonder if paper is haunted.
I wonder if anyone ever tries to summon Jesus through a Ouija board.
They'd probably get a message like, "This isn't my thing, sorry." Before
cell phones, people used to communicate through Ouija boards, right? I
mean like back in the '70's. Right? I wonder if anyone ever gets
haunted after summoning a spirit through their Ouija board, and then when the
spirit beckons them out loud, they're like "Woah, I totally did not
imagine you sounding like that. What accent is that?" I wonder if
people in prisons use Ouija boards when they're lonely. Sure, you get only
one phone call a day, but you can talk to all the dead spirits you want!
Moving on. I'm not particularly scared of summoning ghosts through writing
about ghosts in my website. If there's a ghost that reads my website, I'd
be more than happy to make their acquaintance. Ghosts can be pretty
opinionated, though. "Why don't you tell more stories from your life?"
Shut up, ghost! That one might not have been a ghost, that might have been
my mom. There should be an impressionist who does a comedy special called,
"140 Characters Or Less." And then he does Jack Nicholson for 90 minutes,
and at the end, says, "I said or less!" And then bows and exits,
stage left. I think more people should go out with ghosts. "Rachel?
Oh, she's great. She died of cancer last year. I gotta tell you,
I think she's the one!" "Vernon is such a great guy!
Ignoring the demon head, I think we're really hitting it off!"
"Mary? She's hideous dude. She would totally scare you to
death!" "Mork is wonderful! Wait, I think he might just be
Robin Williams isn't dead. Robin Williams isn't
dead! Too much? Did I ever mention I like drawing boxes.
That's where they got the idea for that movie "Cube," from. Me drawing
boxes. That's also where boxing comes from. I gotta get out of here.
Three paragraphs to go! I like how there's a movie called, "Cube," and a
movie called, "Sphere." You put one of them in the other, and you have a
math problem. You have a math problem! I can quit whenever I
want! Mention parsnips. No, ghost! You don't tell me
what to do! Play Grand Theft Auto: Vice City. I don't
even have that, ghost! Get out of here! Now I hear a fire truck
outside my window! Everyone knows this neighborhood isn't protected by
firemen! That's a lie, there's a fire station 2 blocks away. You
caught me, alright? I'll never lie again. So, what else is going on
in life. It's 11/11. I think I already mentioned that. That's
a buttload of 1's. Gotta be at least 3 or 4 of them. Maybe 7.
Why not. I like how tiramisu has espresso in it. That's why I drink
tiramisu every morning. I once tried breaking down a mini 3 musketeers bar
into my coffee, but it turns out that doesn't dissolve so well. When I
snap my fingers, you will have no memory of the previous three paragraphs.
Alright! Where am I? Oh. Anyway. I've
got a lot of problems if I forget where I am after three paragraphs.
Unless I told myself to forget. Did I? Can't remember. Anyway.
I must be blasted out of my mind. I had a dream I was back in high school,
and I felt a lot of pressure that I wouldn't be able to pass all my classes to
graduate. I've had this type of dream several times over the past year.
When I wake up, it always takes me a minute or two to realize, "Oh yeah, I did
graduate," and then feel massively relieved. Maybe it's pent up anxiety
about not having passed college. I don't know. So, it's been four
years. Four years since four years ago. What? I thought I
heard something. I was wrong. Now, let's finish this entry in style!
Blah blah pork. Miso soup. Tangerine headache. Mustard gas.
Alright, truce. No more word disassociation. I wish they could
disassinate the killing of Kennedy. Ugh. Here's a story. When
I was four, I got my thumb stuck in the VCR, and my dad had to call the police
to get me out. And what movie was I trying to watch? Answer at the
end of the entry.
Well, this was fun. Not for you, but for me. And
not really for me, but just in general. I think just the existence of
another crazysheet entry, whether people like it or not, is a generally positive
thing to happen in the world. We'll see about that. Quiet,
ghost! No one wants you here! I don't even remember what movie I was
trying to watch. I feel like I've let everyone down. They should
make a sequel to "Free Willy," and call it, "Free Sushi." Thank my ghost
for that one. I don't even know what, "parsnips" means. Man, I'm so
blasted! I never used the word, "blasted" before this entry. Now
it's a two-fer. How delightful. I can't believe it's been four
years. Time really does just fly by. I wonder if any overweight
person ever took a pie on a plane, and said, "This is really a pie-in-the-sky
moment!" Because he's overweight and enjoys pie. If he's overweight,
he really shouldn't be on a plane. How do we know the plane can support
him? He's risking not only his life, but the lives of the other
passengers. And that's the end of that passage.
Down With Popcorn, Up
With Chocolate Milk
Hey, for the second time today. I was watching Summer Heights High on HBO.
It's like a mockumentry of high school. I wonder if Rob Reiner and
Christopher Guest sued them for copyright infringement. It took me a while
to realize it was a mockumentry. It took me a couple of episodes of seeing
a man in his 30's or 40's portraying a teenage girl to realize it was what it
was. And after all that exposure to the character's self righteousness,
delusions of talent and attractiveness, and a complete inability to properly
interact with society around them, I felt right as rain and in the right mindset
to write another crazysheet entry. Perfect. I ate too much garlic
bread today, guys. I feel sick. You know garlic has like so many
calories, right? Like, at least 20-50, for a 400 calorie portion of bread.
But I love it. Oh my god, do you know who would be
the best superhero? Mario-man, from that cartoon video game
thing? Have you seen him go down those tunnels? Because I have...
over and over again... in my pants! It's unhealthy how much I feel at ease
in that character. I'm pretty sure they based Summer Heights High on, "Of
Mice and Men." Either that, or the devil.
Time for a new segment! One thing I rarely talk about
in these entries is, "Where do I come up with this stuff?" So, here's an
exciting new edition of...
"Where Do I Come Up With This Stuff?"
entry, I talked about a passenger on a plane. Funny story behind
that... I have a bus ticket receipt from 2009 sitting on my desk. It
made me think about travel in general. The secrets out!
"Where Do I Come Up With
entry, I talked about an unsuccessful attempt to mix a mini 3 musketeer bar with
coffee. Well, don't tell anyone, but... I had a cup of old coffee
sitting on my desk, from yesterday! Don't tell a soul!
"Where Do I Come Up With
For this entry's
title, I talked about popcorn and chocolate milk. Keep it in your back
pocket, but... I was thinking about having a bag of popcorn for dinner, and
my mom suggested I try our lactaid free chocolate milk! I swear your
honor, I didn't know!
"Where Do I Come Up With
Earlier in this entry,
I started a segment called, "Where do I come up with this stuff?" That
one's a secret till the day I die!
That was fun.
Does that count as one paragraph, or two? I'm gonna say two. So, now
we're 2-5 paragraphs into the entry... who can count. What else is new.
A couple of entries ago, I talked about a gym teacher who nicknamed me, "The
Captain." What I should have said to him was, "The correct term is pilot."
I remember I once had a dream about this teacher catching me smoking marijuana.
The really odd thing about that was I didn't even smoke at that time. On
my old ticket receipt, it says, "Adult." They might have revoke that after
that last segment. Anyway. I think I might end the entry right
November 12, 2013
I Think I'll Pass
Hello friends. I just finished a glass of soda. I really should go
fill it up before I start. BSB. I like coughing up phlegm. If
I cough up some phlegm onto a tissue, I really feel like I've accomplished
something. No one understands me. Mostly because I'm so short!
Rim job! I might be misusing that expression. I like espresso.
We covered that yesterday. And if there's one thing I hate, it's to be
repetitive. Don't make me repeat that. I had a dream last
night I was back in college, and I wasn't doing any of the work for classes, but
I was writing a novel. And in the dream, it seemed like, "Oh yeah, this is
what I do, I can do this!" And then when I woke up, I was so relieved that
I don't really need to write a novel. The only thing more boring than
reading a book is writing a book. I don't even know what I would write
about. Maybe a story about a guy who gets penis reduction surgery.
That's the kind of character that'll motivate people to buy a book! It can
be called, "Downsizing." Or maybe a book about a baby who becomes a
stenographer. He's just trying to balance his work with his relationships!
That book can be called, "Mr. Potato Dick." A third idea is a sci-fi book
where cars become humans, and humans become cars. It sorta takes the idea
from Cars and flips it on it's head. Not really. It sort of sticks
with it. It takes the idea of real-life cars and humans, and flips that on
it's head. That can be called, "Christine." The only Stephen King
book I've ever read was, "The Girl Who Loved Tom Gordon." It's about a
girl who gets lost in the woods, and I think there are monsters, too. I
don't know why it's relevant she loved Tom Gordon (who used to be the closer for
the Boston Red Sox). I think Stephen King just liked baseball, and wanted
to shoe that in.
I like baseball. You should really cleat it in, though.
If you want to be accurate. I remember when I was a kid, I was in little
league for a few years. My most prominent memory is playing the outfield,
and literally listening to a walkman while the game was going on. Hardly
anyone would ever hit it into the outfield, anyway. And because they
wanted everyone to get a chance to play, there were usually four or five
outfielders. I don't think, in the three to four years I played little
league, I ever got a hit. Maybe once. I remember I once hit a line
drive that the short stop jumped and caught, and that was the highlight of my
batting career. I also remember, they once let me play second base for
half a game, and the one ball I had to field I didn't field cleanly, so they got
on first base. It's not really my fault, though. I'm a lefty, and
you're not supposed to have lefties playing second base, because it's more
awkward a throw to the first baseman. Way to mismanage your all star
player, coach. My confidentiality suffered because of that play, and I've
never been the same since!
That's right, I don't know words. I was watching
the first episode of season one of Californication, and it starts with David
Duchovny getting a blow job from a nun. I've never been to a church at
all, not counting synagogues. Sorta makes me interested, though. In
the show, it turns out to just be a dream, but tell that to to the actress
playing the nun! She really sucked David Duchovny's dick. I really
hope David Duchovny's friends call him, "Dutch Oven." Assuming David
Duchovny is 19 years old and in a fraternity. I've never seen The X-Files.
But I do know two songs which reference it. "One Week," by the Barenaked
Ladies, and "The Bad Touch," by the Bloodhound Gang. They must be doing
something right if songs reference them. I don't like the name, "Barenaked
Ladies." It's too suggestive. Just hearing the name out loud makes
me feel like coming. There are things wrong with me, though. The
Barenamed Ladies remind me of roller blading. Roller blading is like
skateboarding for kids who are scared of falling. I still got my fair
share of skinned knees, though. The great thing about skinning your knee,
is that a scab forms, and you can have all sorts of fun with a scab. Pick
at it, pick at it again, keep picking at it, and then pull it off! And if
you did it right, maybe a new scab will form! The fun never ends.
Man, just thinking about having a scab is making me salivate. Great.
I like that this entry isn't funny at all. It's reminiscent of other
entries. There should be more jokes, though. Too bad I don't have a
Wait, I'm a writer! Hmm, let's see what we have here.
Personal website blog, courier new, white font on black background. Hmm,
okay, let's see. Alright, I'm picturing it... alright, I've got it!
Write words of things until you have five paragraphs. My job is done here.
That'll be $500. Why am I, not only talking to myself, but charging
myself? I don't know. Not everything has to make sense, man.
Get over yourself! You know, I bet a lot of people visit this webpage, and
say, "Anyone could do that!" Well, if anyone can do it, why am I the only
one doing it? Because I'm lonely? Hah! Hardly! Wait, you
said lonely? Yeah. That's it. I thought you said homely.
In which case, how dare you. I feel like shit. Not because of
you. You're great. I just feel like, I'm giving and giving, and
there never seems to any back and forth to this! It's almost as if
you just want to read a website without putting any effort into it yourself!
How dare you. BE QUIET. It's too late now. Eh. Too be
honest, the main reason I write entries is to tune out the outside world.
And also, two be honest, how do you spell words? I like icicles.
They make me happy. I really need a drink. It's pointless to say,
but man, that's just how I feel. Why do babies need milk. Just give
them mountain dew, or something. They don't know the difference, they're
babies! Now, next on my list of "mountain do's and don'ts..." don't rely
so heavily on puns. They are but one (over-used) tool in your comedic
arsenal. It's ironic one of the rules is "don't use puns," when the
segment is predicated on the use of a pun. They sort of cancel each other
out. I don't even like saying the word, "pun." I can only
imagine how terrible it is to read it!
Here it is, the final paragraph. I would like to take
this opportunity to remind you to click the, "Music" link on the left to check
out some of my original music. I know it seems like I'm just
another loser with a guitar-playing habit, but, believe me... uh... I suppose
that's fairly accurate. And I know you're thinking, "This guy sucks at
writing. He's gotta be terrible at music, too. Is there anything
this guy can do?" Stop thinking such negative things about me.
It's not right! Or maybe it is. Leave me out of it. I'm jsut
trying to get by, and so forth. I gotta wrap this up. In conclusion,
why did I write this entry? And in further conclusion, why did I post it
to the internet? And in second conclusion, what do I do now that the entry
is finished? And in further conclusion, why aren't I wearing any pants?
And more conclusion, Who's Gonna Want Me Now? And moreso in conclusion, I
need to lose weight if I'm ever gonna get the part of Gandhi in the school
musical. And more conclusion, is it offensive if I call myself, "The
Nelson Mandela of Comedy?" More conclusions, Why did Gandi wear a tunic?
Doesn't he know we can see everything? And it looks like his member
was on a hunger strike as well! In more conclusions, most penises don't
eat things, ever. Well, I guess that's about it. Stay tuned for the
next entry! Hopefully I didn't ruin crazysheet forever with this stinker.
November 14, 2013
That's a Lot of
Paragraphs! What? Only Five?
Heylo to everyone out there in cyberspace. Thanksgiving is right around
the corner. Never before has a holiday been such an egregious combination
of two distinct words. Maybe Christ-mass. Maybe the word, "holiday,"
specifically, does it. I'm not here to mince words. What? Yes,
I know what mince words means! It means whatever I want it to mean!
It's like a Rorschach test. I've had several pleasurable dreams lately.
Let's just say, my appetite has been whetted, and leave it at that!
But then I wake up wanting more. More! Yesterday I discovered
I had a scar across my arm where I had never seen it before. What kind of
tomfoolery is this. It's reminiscent of a time, in 2008, when I noticed a
scar on my left hand that I had never seen before. I noticed it after
eating a bag of Doritos, and the only explanation I could come up with is that
there was a really sharp Dorito, and, well, these things happen. And, to
this day, the scar remains. It's not apparent whether this new scar will
leave a scar or not. To be clear, it isn't a scar, it's more like a cut.
I should have been clear about that. So, Thanksgiving is right around the
corner. I wonder if you call up an Asian-Indian friend and say, "Hey man,
I just want to say thanks," if they'll get offended. My ancestors weren't
here in the 1600's. They were busy partying and getting it on in
Austria and Russia. What's the difference. Anyway, I'm excited.
I'm a big proponent of stuffing and sweet potato. They must have been
getting real bored and lazy when they got to naming, "Stuffing." "Eh, it's
stuff." Thanks for the descriptive noun, fellas. I understand
there's the alternate definition of the word, that it's, "stuffed" into
something. But most people don't stuff stuffing into turkey, or anything,
they just eat it, as is. Get your facts straight!
Anyway. I don't know what to do with my time anymore.
Watch more T.V. is all I could think of. There must be a better
alternative, though. I keep checking my cut to see if it's turned into a
scar. Nothing yet! We're out of saltines. I know, I know.
I'm as disappointed as you. So, I heard India is officially a
"sub-continent," now! That's exciting news. If Australia can be a
continent, why not. They're lowering the bar for everyone. I was
thinking about, as I'm prone to do, the T.V. show, "Duckman." It's a
cartoon from the 90's which stars Jason Alexander as a duck who's a detective.
It was on after, "Weird Science," (a T.V. show based on the movie with the same
name), on the USA channel. Pretty trippy stuff to watch as an eight your
old when you're up past your bedtime on Saturday nights. Now I kind of
want to eat Peking duck. I don't know if I've ever had it before, but
suddenly there's a part of me that feels, "Yeah, I would like to eat a duck."
I must have had it once or twice. If I remember correctly, it's mostly
bone. I don't know about you, but I eat the bones. I paid thirteen
dollars for this bird, and I'm gonna make the most of it! Either I digest
it, or I don't. That matter will work itself out, in the way that it does.
I'm not going to bore you with the details. I poop out what I don't
digest. There, that's what happens.
Third paragraph time. That's exciting. So,
terrible things going on in the Philippines, right? I believe that's in
India, somewhere. Sometimes I think about the global population numbers,
and out of six or seven billion people, 300 million are Americans. This
number seems both ridiculously high and ridiculously low at the same time.
It's high, because 300 million is a lot of people, but it's low, because there's
a shitload of people who don't get to be American. I mean, just think how
lucky you are to be American. We've totally got it made. Most people
(not some, most) live in much, much worse conditions than we do. I
don't care how bad you think your life is, you've already won the jackpot, as
far as I'm concerned. Well, maybe not the jackpot. But the
equivalent to the, "Free Big-Mac," on the McDonalds monopoly game. I used
to get Big-Macs with only the meat and the bread. This was before they
developed, "double hamburgers." This is relevant because it's my fuckin'
website. Wow, it's almost 4:00 P.M. That's hilariously close to my
bedtime. I usually go to bed around 5:30, and fall asleep around 8:00.
It gives me a lot of time to think on things. And hopefully prepare myself
for a whet dream. To be honest, I don't think I've ever had a wet dream.
I've had dreams about sex, but never with ejaculation. This is relevant
because it's my fuckin' website.
Second to last paragraph time. What else is new.
I've gotten in the habit of watching online poker on YouTube. For some
reason, it captivates me. I like it even better than watching live poker
(even if you can see the hole cards). It's just more efficient, in a way.
Mostly, in a way that doesn't mean, "efficient." But I'm going to
stand by my choice of words. Let's move on. Second to last paragraph
time. What else is new. WTF, it's been 20 minutes since I said,
"It's almost 4:00 P.M." I don't want you to know how long it takes to
write this crap! Anything over 20 minutes is pretty embarrassing.
This is fun. I hope it continues to be fun. This is fun. I
hope it continues to be fun. There's no reason it won't. I just need to
keep typing until it's fun. That's a good idea. Just keep typing.
It should be fun eventually. That's my plan. Just keep typing until
it's fun. It's fun for me, and it should be fun for you too, I think.
That's my modality. There's a lot of reason that it should work.
Life is full of wondrous treats. Anyway. I forget what I was saying.
I think my life is crazy, but it's funny, it should end. That's something
I told myself while thinking about what write. Now, to complete the
paragraph! Completing things is always the hard part. There's a lot
of things that I don't know. Hey. What's up? I either
took a half an hour break or a 5 minute break. There's no way of knowing.
Either way, let's write a last paragraph!
What else is going on. Blah blah blah porn. Wait,
I've never talked about porn here! I haven't looked at porn for months.
I'm scared my computer is bugged. Other way, I'd watch the shit out of
porn! Anyway. I gotta get some sleep. Otherwise, how will I be
awake tomorrow? Out of habit? C'mon. I gotta get some sleep.
For real. I gotta finish this entry so I could go to sleep. Alright?
I just woke up again. That's it.
November 20, 2013
I Don't Have Time
To Write A Title!
Hello friends. This is a new entry. Hopefully you've figured that out on
your own. I have an appointment with the endocrinologist tomorrow.
Afterwards, Chipotle. That's what I call a good day! I don't know why
seeing the endocrinologist is particularly good. I'm proud of the way I've
kept care of my thyroid, and I want it to be recognized and for everyone to
know it! I saw my therapist on Monday, and I realized my social tendencies
have evolved simply to talk to my crazy peers. Basically, not really listen
to what anyone says and just answer in the affirmative. Because only 20% of
what they say is appropriate or makes sense, but I don't want to offend
them, obviously. For example, a standard interaction is like, "What's your
name?" "Mike." "Like Mike Tyson?" "Yeah, yeah." "I bet Mike Tyson would
beat the shit out of you in a fight." "Yeah, (chuckle), I know." It's that
kind of stuff, over and over. Anyway, that's that. I don't like video
games. Why pay sixty dollars when you can have fun with a ball and cup. Do
they still manufacture Ball & Cup? I've never actually played it. It seems
pretty captivating, though. And the best thing is, you're not bothering
anyone. That's something I should have got when I was in the hospital.
They might not let you use it there, though. It's too stimulating. One of
my main memories from the last time I was in the hospital was that was
during the popularity of Jeremy Lin of the New York Knicks. So, for me,
Linsanity had a special meaning in my heart.
It doesn't surprise me that an Asian is good at basketball. When I was
in middle school, we would play football in the yard, and the best player by
far was an Asian guy in my class. Smarts and athleticism? Sign me up! I
remember in middle school, something a couple of boys in my class sometimes
did, and I may have on occasion, was, during the break during classes,
memorize the schedule of attractive girls, and follow them around in-between
classes, to look at their asses. I said I may have done that, but I don't
think I ever did, I just wanted to say it so it's more relevant for me to
talk about. This is disturbing, but I remember walking around in-between
classes, and imagining shooting up the school. What? I'm free to think
what I want. It's tough being a four foot ten tall gifted kid in sixth
grade. Girls would look at me with disgust. I'm over that period of my
life, though. I haven't wanted to shoot up anything since that time I did
heroin. And I've never really done heroin. So I don't want to shoot up
anything. Now I'll shoot up the internet with comedy bullets, and the death
will be the audience's laughter! I like that movie Shoot Em Up. I saw it
in college, and it was downright entertaining. I like how two of the
biggest comedians ever are Jerry Seinfeld and Bill Cosby.
Because it's math. Sine and cosine? Never mind. I remember I had a math
teacher in sixth grade who actually went out of his way to tell his parents
that I was funny and I brightened up the environment of the class. That's a
pretty good achievement, I think. Oops, I meant to say tell my
parents, but I think it's funnier if he told his parents. Maybe he did tell
his parents. I don't know. I remember it once was his birthday, and he
told us his age was a prime number, but wouldn't tell us what it was. I
think it was in the high forties, so his parents may very well have been
dead. So I told him that, and he thusly revoked his endorsement of my
I was thinking about my future, and how I'd like to have a family one
day. It really sucks, though, because I lost, so far, five years of my
young adulthood living at home and not meeting any girls. If I have a
family at around 40, I only have ten to fifteen years to fuck around, and
even then, I have to start thinking about marriage as a real concept to
think about. Time flies when you're doing nothing. And I wouldn't want to
have kids much past 40, I don't want to be in my sixties and having to raise
a teenager. It's not fair to either of us. I probably shouldn't have kids
anyway. I don't want to pass my, "shoot-em-up," genes to anyone. So,
that's fun. My parents were both married when they were my age (to other
people). That's kind of crazy. Here's an interesting thought I've had,
sort of relating to shooting up the school. I used to imagine that a wall
would suddenly form in the classroom, isolating me and a female classmate,
and we'd be stuck there forever and have to have sex. Thinking back, that's
a pretty hilarious thought. So, the new Hunger Games is coming out. For a
long time, I assumed the Hunger Games was a family drama about an anorexic
girl. I still don't really know what it's about.
Anyway. I shouldn't have said that stuff about shoot-em-up. It could
be taken out of context. Or, worse, it could be taken in context. In
contrast with that, when I was in eighth grade, my chorus teacher nominated
me for an award in which I was deemed the title of, "Hometown Hero." I
think just for my general awesomeness. So, in middle school, redemption is
possible. We all make mistakes. I mean, I was never gonna act on
it. I was 10 years old, where was I gonna get a gun? This isn't Florida.
And if it was, would taking a few Floridians out of the mix really be such a
bad thing? What? Too far? Fine! I see how it is. If I lived in Florida,
I'd vote for Pat Buchanan every presidential election, and keep saying,
"He'll come back! He'll come back!" Because I'm borderline retarded. So,
that's how that goes. What else is going on. I put together another
mini-album of 5 songs to put on my music page. I'll get around to uploading
it, eventually. Then I'll have 45 songs up, which I think is a pretty good,
round number. Judging by the response to the songs already there, though,
nobody gives a crap. Which is okay. This entry is kind of depressing. I
really don't want your take away from this entry to be, "Michael Wants To
Kill People." Because it couldn't be further from the truth. Well, I guess
it could be further. But it's still not accurate.
Last paragraph time. I was at Starbucks yesterday, and on my cup, they
spelled my name as, "Micheal," so I was like, I guess this is my name now.
Pretty sure Starbucks cups are legally binding. So, that's how that goes.
I've been playing a lot of computer chess lately. I play it against the
easiest difficulty, because I like to win. And I'm not very good. I
remember when I was a kid, I was very briefly in a chess league for kids. I
don't think I did very good. I wonder if chess pros ever mix up the rules
of chess, to keep things interesting. Kings can move anywhere they want.
Pawns can move like knights. If you get a bishop to the end of the board,
it turns into a queen. Anything, just to mix it up. Or maybe somehow get
like a four-way chess game going. That would be interesting. Or
confusing. Mostly confusing. You'd probably need a bigger board, or else
you'd only have room for 4-6 pieces each. That's what they would say if
Jaws was about chess. We're gonna need a bigger board. I like
Jaws. He eats things. Good for him. Anyway. I'd like to go to a
maternity ward, and when they ask what I'm doing there, I'll say, "My
therapist is always saying I should meet new people!" Because I'm stupid.
November 22, 2013
Hi friends! Today is the anniversary of Kennedy getting shot. It
also would be my maternal grandfather's birthday, if he were alive. Are
the two connected? I don't know. Maybe that's something that should
be investigated, though. I guess he doesn't need to be alive for it to be
his birthday. I wonder when they first started keeping track of birthdays.
Some guy four thousand years ago was just very self centered and meticulous, and
thought, "Today is my birth-day. This is special." If life begins at
conception, why don't social conservatives celebrate their conception day?
Flip-flop! They're gonna tell you they voted for their birthday before
they voted against it! My birthday is in three weeks. Usually I get
$100 for my birthday, and $100 for Chanukah. Since I can't think of
anything else to spend it on, I've been renting movies on demand for five
dollars a pop. Also, I'm spending it prematurely. Why wait? I
don't believe in anything happening, "prematurely." If you prematurely
ejaculate, that's all part of God's plan. When I was younger, for
Chanukah, we used to go all out with the lighting of the menorah, and
everything. When it comes to miracles, a candle lasting longer than it
normally does has to be pretty low on the list. Not impressed, Maccabees.
And what's the deal with Gelt? Little Jewish kids eating candy that looks
like money only perpetuates negative stereotypes.
Yeah. I do think it's appropriate that Jewish kids
learn to eat Gelt (basically pronounced "guilt") from an early age.
Social commentary! It would be funny if during the Holocaust, a family
tried to bribe German SS officers with Gelt to pass them by.
Please, take it, it's all we have. And then give them a handful of
chocolate. I have a different sense of humor than most people, though.
I like that movie, Life Is Beautiful. I mean, if Roberto Benigni
thinks the Holocaust is beautiful, I can't wait to see his reaction to other
things. A movie about a baby being born; OH MY GOD THAT'S AMAZING.
A movie about first love; HOLY SHIT I CAN'T BELIEVE IT! He's
really setting the bar pretty high. I might see a movie today. I
don't particularly want to, but I've got nothing else to do. That
Delivery Man movie sure looks like a movie. It may have passed the
test. Usually Vince Vaughn is paired with another comedic lead in his
movies. I don't think he is in this one, though. I like that
shot-for-shot remake they made of Psycho with Vince Vaughn. That means,
literally hundreds of people thought, "This is a good idea." Crazy.
I like that movie Swingers, where Vince Vaughn calls everyone, "Baby." I
guess that's how swingers talk. The best part of it is they show them
playing NHL '95 on Sega Genesis. I used to play that with my brother.
The main thing I remember from it, was the best way to make a goal was to circle
around the goal-zone and then shoot it when you come back around while the
goalie is still on the other side. So, now I know how to play hockey.
Don't bother putting me on the ice. That would just be redundant.
Anyway. Sega Genesis is a pretty biblical name for a
gaming system. I like it. I remember they used to have a Sega
Genesis in my orthodontist's waiting room, but the game shut off after three
minutes. How many people really want to play a game for three minutes, and
then have to start over again. You can never even get past the first
level. Way to blow. Oh, the second best part of Swingers was when
they eat in a diner. Fictional or not, I am a huge proponent of
eating in diners. It's probably one of my favorite things. Dinner
with your family, lunch with a friend, late night meal after drinking.
Anything that involves diners is in pretty good standing with me.
Privately owned, iHop, Dennys, whatever. A diner is a diner is a diner.
They even had that movie, Diner. I didn't care for that. Even
a Dunkin Donuts or an Au Bon Pain would do. You can get coffee and
pastries. That qualifies in my book. And to think, in the past, you
could even smoke in diners! Oh man, would that be the icing on the cake.
If the cake is your lungs, and icing is carcinogens.
I read they raised the legal age to buy cigarettes in New
York from 18 to 21. I think that's alright. I bought my first packs
of cigarettes when I was almost 21, so if that law was in effect then, I
might have never started smoking. Oh well, you can't change the past.
I first started smoking because I had somewhat of an eating disorder, where I
would basically fast for like three days, and then eat a shit load on the fourth
day, and I thought smoking cigarettes would take away some of the urge to
overeat. And did it? I don't know. But eventually I stopped
caring about my eating, and it went back to normal on it's own. Things
have a way of working themselves out. Especially if those things are
champion bodybuilders. Meh. I don't know what I'm doing anymore.
I want to say, "writing a website," but who knows for sure. There are some
people who know for sure. I'm not one of them. I got a salad from
Panera yesterday. Salads are pretty good. I didn't start eating
salads until I was like 20, but once I did, I thought, "This is pretty good!"
I don't think I've ever had salad dressing, though. Who needs it. I
just pour hot fudge on it, and that's good enough for me. Because that's
not a real thing. So I never did it. That's good enough for me.
Final paragraph time. I like that book, "A People's
History of the United States." Umm, "A People's history?"
Where did you learn grammar? It's "A Person's history
of the United States." God, some people. Anyway.
I'm satisfied with this entry. A couple of paragraphs of low level
hilarity, a couple of paragraphs of mindless chatter. You put that
together in a stir-fry, and you get a crazysheet entry. Now, the question
is what to do with the rest of my day. The answer is, "I don't know."
Maybe go hang out at a diner. By myself. That actually doesn't sound
so bad. I could get a cup of coffee, relax, maybe do that maze on the
children's placemat. It would be funny if someone did that maze, and then
stood up and announced, "I Did it! I Did It!" and expect the
manager to come over to congratulate him, and for everyone to applaud. I
guess. That's what should happen. One of my favorite diner memories,
was when I first moved into NYU in the fall of 2006, and after moving everything
in, having a goodbye lunch with my parents at Silver Spurs, a diner around NYU.
I was filled with such joy and excitement, and such hope and promise. We
don't have to go into details on what's happened in my life since then.
Suffice to say, a lot of sucking. Anyway, see ya.
November 23, 2013
This Is The End of
The Entry. Just Kidding.
Hey buddddies. Today is Saturday. Go ahead, try to argue with that.
You will see that it's futile. Today is Saturday, and today will always be
Saturday. Wait, is it Friday? No, it's Saturday. Whew.
That's a relief. I had to take an elevator a couple of days ago. You
know what that's like, right? I mean, c'mon. I don't know
where I was going with that. I like that Led Zeppelin song, "Elevator to
Heaven." I mean, if you have to take the stairs, is it really
Heaven? I'd get tired, and I need my rest. I'd like a roller coaster
to Heaven. Or maybe a helicopter. Get there in some style. I
wonder if when the Wright brothers invented the airplane, they had in the back
of their minds, "You know, maybe we'll find Heaven." You never
know. The Pixies have a song about a monkey going to Heaven.
Suddenly, Heaven doesn't seem so exclusive. I mean, sure, good for the
monkey. But does that really mean that I have to share my eternal paradise
with a freaking monkey? C'mon. I guess dogs go to Heaven,
too. They made a movie about it, so it must be true. I guess I just
always assumed dogs have their own Heaven, and so it goes for all members
of the animal kingdom. I wonder if there are dinosaurs in Heaven.
I'd like to die, go to Heaven, meet a dinosaur, and be like, "Hey, man, you've
been here for 65 million years. Got any tips for a newbie?" What if
God was a dinosaur. No one would see it coming.
I remember when I was a kid, my parents got both me and my
brother a toy dinosaur, and he got the velociraptor, and I got the
dilapidasourus (which is the made-up venom spitting dinosaur from Jurassic
Park). Oh man, was I jealous. My dinosaur isn't even real!
Where is the justice? Nowhere, that's where.
Anyway. There's nothing much going on. I gotta get my head together.
I've been feeling kind of depressed lately. Sometimes when I get
depressed, it seems really futile, but something that keeps me going is the
thought, "Most people don't ever feel like this. It's a chemical disease,"
which actually kind of helps. I'm sort of altruistic in that way.
Not to toot my own horn. I don't even have a horn. And I'm not a big
supporter of tooting. And even if I was, I'm not a licensed tooter.
Leave it to the professionals! That's what I say. I've never said it
before. But I might start saying it now. At least once. I've
been thinking about going back to college. I might take some classes in
the spring, assuming I can get myself eligible to register in time. I
really miss the college environment. It's been a while, though. I
wonder if, when I do go back, I'll think, "Wow, these people are young."
That's sad. I can always hang out with the professors. But then I'll
think, "Wow, these people are old." I guess I should just hang out with
the teaching assistants. I'll think, "Wow, these people are just right.
Except for being teaching assistants. NERDS!" I took a class on the
history of feminism my sophomore year at NYU, and I failed the class. I
handed in the final paper late, and they just wouldn't accept it. I think
that's a funny class to fail. The reason that's relevant was because it
was the TA who failed me. What a jerk. I bet if I was a girl, he
would have given me a C! There should be a class on the history of
meninism. Or Mennonites. Whatever they're called.
There's good reason to believe this will be the third
paragraph. Anyway. Thanksgiving is next week. I'm okay with
that. My family doesn't really do anything for thanksgiving. We get
a turkey, and the assorted foods, just because you're supposed to. But
that's about it. No, I can't say my family truly recognizes the miracle
that was the Native Americans sharing their food with the pilgrims. I like
American Indians. I don't think I've ever met one, though. That's
kind of weird. I mean, I've been around a good 25 years. I haven't
met one. I almost get the feeling like they're avoiding me.
What did I ever do to them? Ugh. I like that Greenday song, "Don't
wanna be an American Indian!" Good stuff. Anyway. What to do
with the rest of my day. What to do, what to do. That's a good Meat
Puppets song. I think I wanna get into Yoga. Or at least give it a
try. Anything that can relax your body and mind is potentially a very good
thing. That's how I feel. I know wanting to "feel good" isn't a
popular position, but I'm a maverick. My term is up in two years, what do
I care? You don't change horses in midstream! Ask not what you can
do for your country! Just say no! If I was running against Reagan,
I'd be all over using posters that say, "Just Say No" ironically. Cause
you're saying, "No" to Reagan. The Exorcist girl was named Reagan! I
wish my head could spin around like that. That way I could know what's
going on behind me in a moment's notice. How come, when the demon finally
leaves her at the end, she doesn't regain consciousness and realize she has a
broken neck? Doesn't make sense!
Fourth paragraph time! I like Poltergeist, the movie.
It's almost just a charming, family comedy-drama, but with some ghosts thrown
in. I don't like how like 5 of the main actors of that movie died within
ten years of making the movie. Boo towards the supernatural forces that
killed them! I'm not a fan. I like the, "Just Say No," campaign.
"Hey, do you want some marijuana?" "No." "Why not?" "No."
"This shit is really good stuff." "No." "What do you mean no?
Yes it is!" "No." "It is, really, I tried it." "No."
"Well, there's no reasoning with you." Anyway. When I was born,
Reagan was still president for a couple of weeks. That's pretty trippy.
I don't even have one memory of H.W. being president. I know he said,
"Read My Lips, No New Taxes," and then raised taxes. I don't
remember it, I just learned it somewhere. I don't know why he was talking
to a deaf audience, anyway. Some politician should say, "Read my lips,"
then pull their bottom lip down and reveal a tattoo on their gums that says, "ThugLife."
That's what should happen. Anyway. What else is going on. I
haven't played my electric guitar in like half a year. It's just easier to
play my acoustic. Having to turn on the amp and everything is an extra ten
seconds that I just don't have. I remember when I first got my guitars in
high school, I would stay up all night playing the electric without it plugged
in. Good times. I used to record every time I practiced the guitar,
too, for help with putting together songs later on. I lost all those
files, though. Too bad. It would be fun to listen to them.
Psst. Last paragraph time. What's up. I've
been writing a lot of entries the last few months. That's good, I suppose.
And the best thing is, some people read it! How wonderful. I should
make one thing clear, though. There are five paragraphs per entry.
I'm sorry, that's just how I feel. You can't argue with a feeling.
That's a lie, I argue with feelings all the time. What to do with the rest
of the day. Decisions, decisions. Maybe stage a coup in South
America. That sounds fun. Or trade all my cigarettes for beach
towels. That could be interesting. Or listen to the Bible, as
narrated by John Malcovich. There are lots of good options. I never
liked the beach. Too sandy! Thumbs down. And what's the deal
with salt water? Do we really need this stuff? Write me a letter
telling me how you feel. Anyway. We're getting near the end
of the entry. This entry was a solid something out of something. I
guess that's it. See ya.
November 25, 2013
How's The Weather...
Hey! Time for a new entry. This one should be off the charts!
Off the charts, "good," hopefully. This is the beginning of the entry,
bro. Get used to it! But don't get attached. A few sentences
in, it will cease to be the beginning. I'm telling you upfront, so please
don't get your heart broken. Anyway. I like that expression,
"There's a thousand ways to skin a cat." What kind of monster is skinning
thousands of cats? And how can we bring him to justice? I really
doubt there's a thousand ways to skin a cat. Maybe like forty, fifty,
tops. Next, a joke about skinheads. In lieu of making a joke about
skinheads, please accept the phrase, "Next, a joke about skinheads," with
this qualifier. Thank you. So, I hear Thanksgiving is this week.
They better not be lying to me. I don't want this to be like the time they
told me Independence Day was in April. Man, was I embarrassed! I
bought mini American flags, and everything. I'm pretty sure my paternal
grandfather's birthday was on leap day. I could be mixing that up with
something else, though. I hope they make Puerto Rico the 51st state.
Then, it's to the crematorium with all the current flags. Your service is
no longer needed! I think, if they make Puerto Rico a state, they might
demote a current state to keep the even number of 50. We need to start
thinking about which state to get rid of now. I'm looking at you,
Anyway. What else is going down in town. I was
watching Seinfeld earlier. It's hard to me to watch Kramer now, without
thinking, "Oh, there's that insane racist!" He sort of ruined the entire
show. But my tendency is to forgive him. I love that Kramer
character! When I watched the show as a kid, sure, you realize Kramer is
crazy, but the rest of the characters seemed relatable. Now when I watch
it, I realize they're all fucking nuts. This profound realization has
changed the way I watch T.V., and live life in general. Now I have to hold
my real friends up to the standard I hold my T.V. friends. At least, if I
had real friends. And trust me, I hold my transvestite friends up to
pretty high standards. Pretty, pretty high. I don't get
transvestites. Oh, I'm wearing clothes of the opposite gender! Haven't they ever heard, "The clothes don't make the man?" Because if
they haven't, I'd gladly say it to their face. J Edgar Hoover was a
transvestical. I had a dream a few nights ago that someone I know got
penis reduction surgery (this was after I mentioned it in a joke on my website a
few weeks ago). It was weird at first, but I came to the conclusion in the
dream, "If this is what he wants, I guess it's not so weird." So, that was
Anyway. I saw a program on a pregnant man a few
weeks ago. He was born a lady, but had surgery and took testosterone and
stuff to become a man. But he still kept his female organs, and eventually
became pregnant. It's a good thing he wasn't born a man, and had to
nurture the baby inside his large intestine, and then give birth through his
penis man-whole. Hey, this is interesting. I had a dream I met
Oprah. I forget what happened, but I was really excited to meet her.
Which is a little strange, because in my real life, I'm pretty indifferent to
her. But in the dream, it was announced Oprah was coming, and I freaked
out. I don't remember much of our interaction, but I remember she was
really nice. I don't think I've ever seen an episode of Oprah. I
know I had a roommate in college who would watch a tape of her interviewing
Beyonce, over and over again, but his T.V. was to my back, so I never saw it.
But now I know that if I like it, I should have put a ring on it.
Something to keep in mind for the future. By the way, if a friend ever
tells you they're going to see a taping of Oprah, the appropriate response is,
"It's pronounced Opera!" By the way, I felt pretty bad about that joke,
but decided to write it anyway. I don't get people who go to operas when
they don't even speak the language. Can you really enjoy hearing someone
sing in a language you don't understand for three hours? Unless they have
subtitles. That's something they should have at operas, a monitor with
Yep. What else is new? I like the name,
"Destiny's Child." What other bands could there be. "Hope's Uncle."
"Serendipity's Second Cousin," "Karma Chameleon." Wait, never mind.
Today's the 25th. I can't wait till December. It should be a
December to remember. I forget why. Nobody cares.
So, it's starting to get cold outside. You know what that's like, right?
No? Well, you should. It happens every year, for about 1/3 to 1/5 of
the time. I gotta finish this entry. When's it going to rain again.
I like the rain. I guess when I'm rich, I'll buy my own cloud so I could
have rain on me, all the time. Or maybe just dress like the Karate Kid and
live in a portable shower. That's probably more cost effective.
Oh, I got it! There's not a thousand ways to be a skinhead, though.
They seem pretty adherent to rules and structure. There ya go.
Anyway, this was a quick entry. Still one paragraph to go, though.
Let's make it count! One, two, three... that's as far as I know. I
know there's a six in there, somewhere. Look, I'll be honest. I know
all the numbers. I was just being facetious. On March 14th, my Dad
used to take me to a museum for something called, "Pi Day," (3.14) and they had
math exhibits and stuff. That was fun. I assume. I don't
remember it at all. Austin 3.14 Says, "I just whooped your ass!"
There's not a lot of jokes that combine wrestling with math. It seems like
a niche that's a real untapped market. Well, there's, "Why is it called a
ring when it's obviously a square?" That's geometry. I hate myself.
Last paragraph time! 3.14159. I know Pi to seven
digits! I mean, six digits. I know six digits from seven digits!
I'm a brilliant! Yes, indeed. Hey, it's gonna rain tomorrow!
That's amazing! Did you know the US postal service does deliver
when it rains? I had no freakin' idea! I wonder what their policy
for sleet and snow is, though. Do they still deliver? I'm hoping
yes! I'm bored as bologna. New catchphrase alert! Ugh.
I'm satisfied as Saturday. I'm cool as a cucumber. I thought of
that, that was me. Anyway, see ya later. Catch ya on the flip side!
I'm out of ways to say goodbye. Facebook me ways to say goodbye, and I
might include them in the next entry! See, I'm making this more of an
interactive thing. Bye!
Ugh, I can't believe I told people to
facebook me. I can't stand these people. I tell ya, if just one of
these assholes talks to me, I'll fuckin' kill myself. I swear.
November 26, 2013
It's Not Important
Greetings loved ones. This is gonna be a great entry. I can feel it.
And if it's not, I guarantee your money back!! Anyway. Here we go.
I watched the first episode of that HBO show, "Getting On." I thought it
would be really depressing, because it's in a nursing home, and I thought it
wouldn't be funny, because the clips I saw didn't really seem funny. But
it actually was okay. I need to start watching a new series. There's a few
Showtime series I've never watched, so I could binge watch those. I got
shit else to do. My backup computer just turned on, inexplicably.
That's my porn watching computer. I guess it's time to watch porn now.
Meh. I don't do what technology tells me to do! What is this,
Terminator 3? I never saw Terminator 3. I did see Terminator 3-D, a
3-D show they had at Universal Studios before the real Terminator 3 came out.
I forget what happens, and it probably isn't canon. I never even saw the
first Terminator. That's why in the second terminator, when he says to
Linda Hamilton, "Come with me if you want to live," I was just like, "Go with
him! It's not like he ever tried to kill you before!" Then I saw
part of the first one, and was like, "Oh, yeah. That's right. I
guess he did try to kill you before." So I could understand why she'd be a
little tentative. So there's that. But yeah, so like fifteen years
ago, my family took a trip to Florida, to both Disney World and Universal
Studios. Hands down, my favorite part was in Epcot Center, in the
mini-Britain area, having lunch there. I know British people aren't
necessarily known for their cuisine, but they make a nice little lunch.
That's my memory of a $10,000 vacation. It might not have really been
I also remember reading a choose your own adventure on the
plane ride there and in the hotel. Memories that will last a life time.
I remember once, in my senior History class in high school, my teacher asked if
anyone could do a Mickey Mouse voice for some reason, and I said I could,
because I thought I could, but it was really terrible, and the class sort of
booed me. I felt really bad after that. Memories that will last a
lifetime. I remember in Disney, the hotel wake-up call was in the voice of
Mickey Mouse. That really impressed me. And the waffle from the
diner was in the shape of Mickey Mouse's head. I quite fancied that.
In the same trip, we also went to Washington D.C. The waffles there were
in the shape of Lyndon Johnson's head. You know, that distinctive shape.
And in Planet Hollywood, the waffles were in the shape of some... actor's...
head. I couldn't pull one actor. Oh! Linda Hamilton.
They were in the shape of Linda Hamilton's head. Lyndon and Linda.
Coincidence? Almost definitely. Anyway. I remember when I was
a kid, I would only drink chocolate milk, and never regular milk. It just
really disgusted me. It's a shame, too. If I had a glass of milk
every day, maybe I would be 5'4 instead of 5'2. I blame my parents for not
forcing me. It's not my fault. I was a child, I didn't know any
better! I guess I was just lactose intolerant. Lactose intolerance
doesn't need to be a biological disease, does it? Because I was surely
intolerant of lactose as a personal choice. Another thing that grosses me
out: cheerios. Ugh. They're just disgusting.
That's the end of that chapter. I was just looking
around my room, and I saw my DVD shelf. I have like 100-200 DVDs that I
bought in high school. I remember thinking, "One day I'll have a
girlfriend, and we'll want to watch DVDs." So I kept spending and spending
on DVDs, and I never got a girlfriend. I'm what is known in the DVD
business as a, "Sucker." I guess I got some pleasure from collecting them,
the way some people take pride in their music collection. But now, who
cares. My DVD player doesn't even work anymore. Why would anyone
want a digital venereal disease, anyway? Because they're idiots? I
don't know, I know idiots pretty well. I don't just know idiots, I am one.
And that's the end of that chapter. Can you get a digital venereal disease
from finger popping? And is finger popping a term used by people over
twelve years old? One of my worst memories from Thanksgiving was when I
was like ten, and we went to a friend's house for thanksgiving, and the adults
were having a conversation about education or something, and I tried to say
something, and someone said, "Wait, I think Michael wants to say something!
What is it Michael?" And then I said some pointless thing, and everyone
went on with what they were doing. It doesn't sound so bad, but that's why
you shouldn't hype up things that don't need it. It makes it fall flat.
And because of that, I didn't speak in public for another eight years.
Anyway. This is the fourth paragraph, I swear.
Just give it a chance. I might get Starbucks later today. I like
going to Starbucks. I always thought that all the people sitting at
Starbucks with their computer was just a stereotype, but no, it's real. I
like to look down on them as I get my coffee and leave. It makes me feel
good. Also, the baristas are pretty nice. You don't get that kind of
courtesy anywhere. Now, if only they had Mickey Mouse waffles, I'd be set.
I like how in the NYU area, there's literally a Starbucks across from another
Starbucks. You gotta wonder if that'll pay off in the long run.
Anyway. I remember the first thing we did in Washington D.C. was eat at a
T.G.I. Fridays. Because that's something you can't do at home. I
like museums. I have a fantasy of getting high and then going to museums.
It seems like a grade-A experience. Maybe not the Holocaust museum.
But like, art, natural history, that kind of stuff. I remember when I was
in high school, I wanted to have my honeymoon at Disney World. I just had
so many good feelings associated with it. I'm not a fan of Disney by any
means, I just thought it was a really nice place. I guess I'm a weirdo.
Last paragraph time. I don't know what I'm gonna do
with the rest of my day. Probably things, and stuff. In conclusion,
enjoy this new segment, "What's Your Favorite Color?"
November 29, 2013
Hello friends and followers! You know what, I'm gonna go out on a limb and
say, if you're a follower, I consider you a friend! Your status has just
been upgraded! But if you're a friend, it kills me to say this, but you're
really just a follower. Anyway. Yesterday was Thanksgiving. I
think today, to be historically accurate, we're legally required to steal an
American Indian's land. That's how it goes. I put on my contacts
yesterday for the first time in months. You know how they have those
google glasses? I predict, in ten or fifteen years, they'll have cameras
on your glasses, and people will just film their entire life, 24/7, and put it
on the internet for anyone who wants to live vicariously through someone else.
So, that's what's keeping me up at night. If I did that, I'd keep my eyes
shut all day, so when I watch what happened, it would be a surprise.
Anyway. I might get a smart phone for my birthday. Did you know that
phones can call, text, and do a third thing? Technology these days.
I'm jealous of those streaming texts smart phones can do. Then again, I've
preformed or received a total of about 20 texts in the last year. I don't
need it! Also, what's with that feature I've seen in commercials where
some phones connect you with a live video technical support person? Did
they not anticipate that 90% of people who use that will be masturbating while
in contact? Maybe I'm the weirdo for jumping to that conclusion. I
don't know. Yeah, you tell me how to activate my phone.
Seems like it would be that way to me. How could you be using your
phone if it isn't activated? I'm not a technology person. I'm a
masturbation person. You deal with the technology, I'll deal with turning
it into something to masturbate about.
Anyway. This'll be a good entry. It's already got
so much going for it! For example, there is already a paragraph.
Case closed! Respect! Anyway. Friend, follow, or get out of
the way! That's what I say. What else is going on. It seems
like a nice day today. I'm basing that on looking out my window.
That's a pretty good barometer. Thanksgiving was pretty good. It's
nice to spend time with your family and then realize, "Oh yeah, this is why I
don't spend so much time with my family." Aw, I liked it. Families
are great. I just closed my eyes and went for it. Yeah.
So, I heard they're making a remake of Life of Pi, called Life of Pie, and it's
Chris Christie eating a whole pie in ten minutes. I also heard they're
going to make a porn version of Life of Pi, and call it Easy as Pie, and it's a
porn version of Life of Pi, and it's called Easy as Pie. Ugh. I
heard they're making a porn version of A Beautiful Mind called A Beautiful
Behind. That's all the porn versions of movies they're making. Ugh.
Porn version of movie jokes are literally the worst jokes ever. I really
need to shave. I'm not very good at shaving, though. It's a skill I
haven't quite mastered yet. I've only had facial hair for, what, eight or
nine years. Give me some time!
I miss vitamin water. Please believe me. How come
people who's legs don't work don't ever get standing-up-wheelchairs. Just
stand your legs straight on a scooter or something and get around that way.
That way you'll have a higher vantage point, which is always good, and you'll
exude confidence from being an individual. I can't stand people in
wheelchairs. "My legs don't work." Have you even tried moving
them? You've got to make an effort! I'm sick of these people in
wheelchairs getting a free ride. In the whole wide world, there's gotta be
some people who roll around in wheelchairs even though their legs work.
They're drawn in by the glamorous lifestyle of wheelchair folk and want to have
it for themselves. I feel bad for people who's legs are disabled.
They have to say, "I'm just like anyone, I don't put my pants on one leg at a
time." Because they can't. There should be an X-Games event
for people in wheelchairs. You mean to tell me not one of people in
wheelchairs like doing tricks on it? And the great thing is, every
X-Games, there's gonna be more wheelchair people in the pool for next year,
because I'm assuming a lot of them get hurt. Irrevocably. I like my
phone number. I think it's a really solid 10 digit number. I don't
care what anyone says.
Here we go wit the fourth paragraph. I like hanging out
with my family. I really get the feeling that these people care about me.
I don't know why. I get caught up in my personal life, though, sometimes,
so I lose sight of what's really important. And by "what's really
important," I mean alcohol. And by "my personal life," I mean alcohol.
And by "alcohol," I mean cigarettes. I'm gonna try to quit smoking
sometime soon. Because I take my health seriously. Or, at least, I'd
like to. Otherwise, I have no long term plans. Maybe punch a hole in
the wall and start talking to it. I'm always in the market for new
friends! I don't like the farmer's market. It's too agrarian.
Thumbs down! That's all I have to say about that. In conclusion,
enjoy a new installment of our recurring segment, "What's Your Name?"