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Monday, November 30, 2015

Seasons Don't Fear The Titler

    That's great, just great.  This is the end of the month.  And what a month it's been.  Who can forget November fourth, or the eighth, or the seventeenth.  All classic days for some reason.  I'm gonna call it randomness and guesswork.  The good news is I have a lot to think about for next month's color scheme.  Really got to try to get it right.  I watched The Dark Knight yesterday.  More depressing than I remember it.  They tried to warn me with the word, "Dark" in the title, but I just didn't listen.  Still, confirmed my confusion about why Matt Harvey is called The Dark Knight.  Harvey Dent is the white knight, they make it very clear.  Of course, if Matt Harvey calls himself the White Knight, he's racist.  That's baseball for ya.  What else is going on.  I need to shave.  Because my facial hair keeps growing for some reason.  I don't have all the details.  Hey, Thanksgiving happened.  And then again on Friday.  And then again on Saturday.  And then again on Sunday.  The point is we bought food for 10-12 people and we're only 2-3.  My gut says three.  I guess the whole point of Thanksgiving is to overeat.  Thanksgiving is one of the most passive-aggressive holiday names.  Probably made that joke before.  Seems like something I would have said.  Christmas is the most Taco Themed.  Live Mas.  Christmore seems like it should be a last name.  Let's get that started somehow.  Apparently, Christ wasn't even his name, its just a title.  I feel lied to and betrayed.
    Christ was the original Dark Knight.  Let's talk about it.  What else is going on.  Man, if Christ had an alterego that was a super-rich party animal, that woulda made things a whole lot more interesting.  And no one ever sees them at the same time.  And he loves Tacos.  That's a given.  Showin' Christmas movies on T.V. for Thanksgiving.  Get your own movies, Thanksgiving!  You're ruining Christmas!  I saw this last month.  My life is ruined.  You know, that sort of thing.  I had a small scab on my nose that broke during class so I had to go to the bathroom to get a paper towel which I repeatedly dabbed my nose with during class.  How did the scab break?  Certainly not from me scratching it off.  I would never do something so thoughtless and irresponsible.  How was I supposed to know this would bleed like a mother fucker?  I didn't know!  The good news is if people noticed, they probably thought it was a nosebleed.  Either caused by picking my nose or doing cocaine.  Either one, not a good thing you want people to think about you.  I was just scratching scabs!  You would do the same if you were in my shoes!  Also, my shoes are always untied!  You know, for fashion?!  If I were in Germany in the 1930's, I would be like, Fascists?  A whole political party for being fashionable?  I'm on board!  That's probably how they got most of their followers.  Let's talk about it.
    Right, right.  What else.  On the bus, an elderly gave up a front row seat for me.  Has the world gone mad?  Talk about a role reversal.  Then there was a seatbelt under the seat, which I didn't know existed.  I had a lot of fun playing with the seatbelt, trying to figure out what it was, and if it was possibly some sort of explosive.  No one is safe.  These are the times we live in.  Where's Batman when you need him.  If Matt Harvey insists on calling himself The Dark Knight, I insist he starts fighting crime at night.  You want the name?  Well, it comes with responsibilities.  That's how I feel.  Mets awarded 300K to everyone on the Playoff Roster.  Ruben Tejada must be like, easiest 300 grand I ever made!  I wish someone would pay me 300 thousand dollars to get kicked hardcore.  A slide is a kick.  It's got the foot-causing-injury aspect, doesn't it?  Countdown to Chase Utley getting punched in the gut still ongoing.  #Neverforget.  What else is going on.  If Giuliani was running for president as America's Mayor, why isn't George Pataki calling himself America's Governor?  As of now, people don't even realize Geroge Pataki exists.  He needs to play up that hook if he's gonna get any sort of traction.  That's how I feel.  George Pa-tacky.  He's not very fashionable.  That's politics for ya.
    What else is going on.  Tomorrow is December.  I wouldn't lie to you.  December, commonly known as the twelfth month of the year, includes... and so on.  Not sure exactly what that accomplishes.  Either way, what else.  I'm pretty sure every Street Fighter has a slide-kick move.  That verifies that.  What else is going on.  I gotta get out of the house more often.  I need crap to do.  I guess I can just ride the bus.  That's a solution to most of life's problems.  Some kid, teenager I guess, asked me for a cigarette on my way home.  My response?  I'll give you a cigarette... in an unintentional angrily phrased way.  Then I dropped it on the ground.  Should said, Pick It Up.  Instead, he just picked it up without me saying anything.  Also, on the same walk, some kids, real kids, were like, Somebody's smoking.  Oh, it's that guy!  And I should have turned around and been like, You got a problem?  But I didn't.  Kids get a free pass.  They don't know any better.  It ain't my job to teach them a lesson.  Anyway.  I guess that's why I smoke cigarettes.  To make new friends!  Like those kids.  And that teenager.  My social circle is skyrocketing at an unimaginable rate!  I haven't found circles to be any more social than the other shapes.  Certainly not as much as parallelograms.  What else and crap.  My trashcan is full.  I keep tossing things into it, empty cigarette packs, and they just bounce off and fall to the floor.  There's gotta be some sort of solution to this problem.  I'll figure it out eventually, I'm sure.  In the meantime, floor is just gonna have to put up with it.
    What else and crap.  Made it to the fifth paragraph.  How wonderful.  I found a lump in my ballsack recently.  Then I was like, wait, no.  That's a testicle.  That's almost a joke for some reason.  Not quite sure what.  I did feel a slight bump on my throat recently, though.  But then whenever I try to feel it again, I don't feel anything.  That solves that problem.  I find the best treatment for Cancer is usually it'll go away on it's own.  That, or Robitussin!  No sex in the champagne room.  That's a reference I could explain.  I'd rather not, though.  Now you can look it up on your own and feel the reward of a honest day's work.  Yeesh.  I should have made the first comment on one of the plays we were work shopping, and said, This play made me bleed.  Might as well have some fun with it and make the most of a bad situation.  How did it make you bleed.  Who KNOWS.  Then call attention to my nose.  Probably from pointing at it.  And it would make sense, because I'm slowly devolving into bullshit.  More so than usual.  Anyway.  If we weren't supposed to pick at scabs, why did evolution make it so much fun?  Doesn't make sense.  When I was a kid, I would get nosebleeds all the time.  Don't mean to brag.  What else and crap.  I have to see the Endocrinologist on Thursday.  Hopefully I still have Endocrine.  I'm not 100% sure what endocrine is.  Apparently mine is bad for some reason.  I don't have all the details.
    Anyway, great.  What else.  The Olympics are coming up.  At some point.  I saw a commercial about it.  I want to say... 2018?  Right around the corner.  Special Olympics, why don't they televise that.  I'd watch the crap out of that shit.  Also, are the mentally disabled really fooled by this, "Special," crap?  I really would like to know.  Do they understand the condescending nature, or are they just like, Yeah, I'm special!  It's got to be a mix, right?  Some of them must be like, Yeah, I get it, why they say that, for my less intelligent brethren.  Anyway, I'm gonna go sniff some markers.  Whose the smartest mentally disabled person.  If their disability is lack of smartness.  That's a competition I would watch the shit out of.  Anyway, I'm gonna go sniff some markers.  Yeesh.  What else is going on.  I've been having a lot of acid-reflux at night before I go to sleep.  My parents have a bottle of Pepcid which I've been using, but I think I've earned the right to have my own bottle.  You know, to make me feel special.  That's how I feel.  Pepcid should sponsor this website.  Give me a Pepcid free.  You want a Pepcid, you're gonna have to pay for it!  Stupid.  Also, how did Marty McFly pretending to be an alien not scar George McFly for life.  I don't get it and crap.
    Yep.  I do feel a bump on the back of my neck.  I guess I can still have neck cancer.  That's a thing.  I did feel a little bit of a sharp pain urinating yesterday, which excited me.  Guess whose got their very first Kidney Stone!  I've always been scared of it, but now that it's happening, let's knock it out of the park!  Then it went away.  Oh well, probably for the best.  Anyway.  I guess I could chug some salt.  That would do the trick probably.  I gotta read my play in a few weeks.  Beforehand, I should be like, Listen up, those other things you heard were crap.  Now get ready for some Absolute Greatness.  You ready?!  Anyway.  A few of the plays of my classmates we had to read for this week were actually pretty good.  Strong, funny, all that jazz.  I of course take full responsibility.  Cart People, no doubt, was their main influence.  How could it not be.  Yeesh.  What else.  Stupid back of the neck cancer.  I hate it so much.
    Alright, I guess one more paragraph.  You ready?!  Right, right.  What else and crap.  Almost 2016.  That's the future.  I don't like it.  Future is scary.  Who knows what sort of bullshit is gonna happen.  When I was living at Queens College in June, there's a Tarot Card/Palm Reader on the way from there to the movie theater.  I once went, knocked on the door a few times, rang the bell, no answer.  So, logically, I assume the psychic was intimidated because my future was so bright.  Or dark.  Either way, didn't want to get involved.  That's my educated guess.  Also, who needs psychics.  I got educated guesses.  That's just as good I imagine.  Also, if, in a paper, you have a hypothesis, get it checked out.  That could be a real problem.  What do things mean.  Special!  Anyway.  What else.  I watched the remake of The Amityville Horror recently.  Darker than I imagined.  They tried to warn me with the word Amityville.  Adventureland is in Amityville.  That's an amusement park.  Don't mean to brag, but I went there a few times.  I think it became a movie or something, right?  Never saw it.  Too scared.  What else is going on.  I believe their tagline was, Don't feel like driving to Six Flags?  You know, that kind of crap.  Anyway, see ya later.

-5:15 P.M.                                          


Wednesday, November 25, 2015

To Chokeslam Or Not To Chokeslam

    That is a question.  Not the question, but a question, certainly.  I don't like this Orange Is The New Black nonsense.  What's next, Yellow is the new White?  Blue is the new Purple?  You've opened Pandora's Box on this one, I'm afraid.  Okay, that's the two sentences + Title that I prepared on the bus.  Now let's get into the real bullshit.  Do colors mean nothing anymore?  Roy G. Biv.  I have no idea how they figured out that would actually work in our memory banks.  Biv isn't anything.  G is just one of 26 letters.  Roy is a name I guess.  Either way, thumbs up.  What's that called, a pneumatic learning device?  My grandmother died of that I think.  That's a lie.  I never had a grandmother.  Ah, Mnemonic.  Oddly, one of the toughest words to intuitively know how to spell.  Let's talk about it.  I told one joke in class today and it got nothin'.  Teacher asking us what we're doing for Thanksgiving, gets to me, you gonna eat turkey?   Yeah, I'll eat turkey.  Stuffing though, that's where I draw the line.  Not the most brilliant joke in the world.  Not really sure what makes it a joke, to be honest.  But saying it, I was like, man is this funny.  You know, pretty much waht happens here, every entry.  Except I'm going into each entry knowing it's a B at best.  Still, though, B is pretty good.  Certainly better than the lower letters.
Blue is the new purple.  Where does he get this stuff?  Mostly from the names of colors, you know, stuff like that.  I like telling store clerks I don't need a bag.  They take a bag out, ready to start puttin' my stuff in it, No thanks, I think I can handle it.  That way they know I mean business.  And they save precious inventory by keeping the bag.  Win/win situation.  I'm not a fan of a store that has a complete library of Vitamin Waters without any Vitamins Waters Zeroes.  You just lost yourself a cust... oh, here's a Dr. Pepper.  Just when I thought I was out, they pull me back in.  With the delicious taste of Diet Dr. Pepper.  The building my class is in, there's a sign in front of the main entrance, Show Queens College I.D. to security guard.  He never checks I.D.  People just walk right by him.  So, naturally, I'm dreading the day I start to walk past him and he goes Where's your I.D., mister?  Sure, I can alleviate the situation by taking my I.D. out of my wallet and showing it to him.  But that three seconds would be agony.  Because it's my fault.  I saw the sign.  And I was ready to just dismiss it.  Like your run of the mill rulebreaker.  Also, the front entrance has these doors that open automatically... once you start opening the door.  You start opening the door, then it starts opening automatically.  But you need to start opening the door.  Is this really saving anyone time or work?  The initial effort of opening a door is pretty much the main part of it.  Having it open more automatically just seems retarded.
    You know, things like that.  What else is things like that.  The weather was okay today.  Consistent between morning and afternoon.  I got no qualms with the weather of today.  Shouldn't Obamacare really cover Dr. Pepper?  Let's talk about it.  #Jokezzzzzzzz.  That's right, hit you with a joke and crap.  It'll happen from time to time.  Thanksgiving tomorrow.  I'm thankful we live in a country where we can celebrate the total decimation of an indigenous people.  #USAUSAUSA.  I think it's good Native American Reservations can have casinos.  Have you seen what happens to these people?  They're not lucky at all.  I have a lot of confidence beating the house if the house is American Indian.  That's how I feel and whatnot and bullshit.  The American Indian uses all parts of the Roulette.  Not sure what that means.  Almost means something.  Either way, thanks for the help!  Thanksgiving tomorrow.  I'm thankful for... wait don't we have to do this crap again at Christmas?  I can't blow all my thanks on this holiday when I gotta be thankful again next month.  Too much.  You talk about what you're thankful for at Christmas, right?  Seems like you would.  I'm thankful because of Jesus, and Santa, and all that bullshit.  That Sounds right.  Anyway, birthday also coming up in a couple of weeks.  27.  That means I'll be 54 after just one more of what I've already done.  I don't want to be 54.  That's just a decade away from being full blown Elderly according to The Beatles Band.
    Great, great.  What else is going on.  I do like getting together with family, though.  Because I have no friends.  Family is now friends.  Plus, have you seen these people that are potential friends out in the world?  Not impressed.  Not impressed one bit.  That's how I feel.  What else is going on how I feel.  Probably crap and crap.  I'm getting pretty good at not having to go to the bathroom while still on the bus.  It's an acquired still, certainly.  A lot of people think it's easy, but it's not as simple as use the bathroom immediately before leaving the house.  There's more to it than that.  Probably.  I forget what I was talking about.  Probably crap and shit.  I don't really forget.  That would be no good.  I can remember things pretty well, I'd like to think.  What else.  That's where I draw the line.  Classic.  Anyway.  Because I didn't use the bathroom before class, I had to take my Ritalin real discrete like, sitting in a chair outside my classroom.  If someone noticed, would they think I'm addicted to pills?  Possibly!  Do I care?  Possibly!  Probably whatever and who cares and bullshit.  Ritalin does not get me high at all.  Makes me more in the moment, sure.  But not high!  Please believe me you idiots!  I had a dream I hadn't smoked cigarettes in a while, and the next cigarette would be oh so fresh because of it.  Woke up and smoked a cigarette.  More or less normal.  I'm sick of these dreams that lie to you.  Where do they get off.  Probably when you wake up.  That's the logical place.
    Either way, I think we can all agree that last paragraph was crap.  And, despite what websites say, Ritalin doesn't get you high.  Maybe if you snort it.  But it has all kinds of weird Pill Filler, you can't be snorting that.  Also, I don't wanna suddenly get Ritalin High and then go downstairs and talk to my parents like a madman.  Wouldn't be right.  Not one bit.  I'm sick of the bus taking longer on the way home than on the way to school.  Sick and tired!  The comptroller is gonna get one bad hate-mail, I can tell you that.  Also, waiting for the bus takes longer.  I almost want to go, to the congregation of people waiting, We can all agree this is bullshit, right?  Let's get a discussion going.  Because that's the kind of guy I am.  It's always great when the bus opens right where you are.  Like a blessing from Heaven, I would say.  I think a good 20% of what ends up on this website is bus-related.  That's what people want to hear about.  Anyway.  Aiming at a six paragraph entry.  That makes sense.  I'm sick of Fortune Cookies lying to me.  I've been led astray way too often.  It's not right.  At least now I know how to say Apple in Chinese.  Mandarin or... the other one?  I want to say Cantonese?  Who knows.  Also, I forget how to say Apple in Mandarin or Cantonese.  I remember it's phonetic version had seven letters.  That's pretty good, right? 
    Probably.  What else and crap.  Readin' more classmates plays today.  Honestly, some of them can barely speak English.  Writin' like they learned the language on the back of a fortune.  Not impressed!  Also, can we all agree that Almond Cookies are better than Fortune Cookies, hands down?  Not even a comparison.  Unless if you're comparing them.  Which I just did.  In that case, sure.  What else and crap.  On the side of Fire Trucks, it says In the event of a fire, call 911.  SHIT I KNEW I WAS SUPPOSED TO DO SOMETHING IN THE EVENT OF A FIRE!  Totally slipped my mind.  It should have added, But wait a while, obviously we're busy.  That's something I could get behind.  I don't get fire and police departments.  Most of the time, nothin' to do.  Then, what if they get two or three calls at once?  Too much to do.  Doesn't seem like a feasible operation.  I guess they make it work.  I have a couple of holes in the wall in my room.  I'm thankful that rats and shit aren't constantly invading my room. #ThoughtOfAThanks.  Was thinking about the line, "You want a chocolate" while waiting for the bus.  #ThoughtOfaTomHanks.  That's how that goes.  I feel bad for any of his regularly-mentally-equipped relatives.  Gump just sounds like a Retard's name.  Most of them are fine, though, I'm sure.  Gettin' dragged down by the name, that's all.  See ya later.

-4:48 P.M.                           


Monday, November 23, 2015

You're The Dimwit!

    Why Hello there.  It's me, the website guy.  Writer of things and so on.  What's going on and crap.  We workshopped my play today.  Apparently my characters are more three dimensional than I thought.  Fuck I was really aiming for at most two dimensions.  Maybe flirt with three dimensions in the form of stick man, when you flip the pages quickly.  That's two dimensions with a third dimension undertone.  I could live with that.  But yeah, the crux of writing the play was how much the characters hate each other, but most people commenting in it thought they also had this strange friendship.  I guess that's what passes for friendship these days.  Calling one another an asshole over and over.  Kids these days, am I right?  Probably not.  I'm gonna get comments on this post saying... negating... well, you get the idea.  Joke accomplished.  What else is going on in the wide world of sports.  The sun never sets on the wide world of sports.  Either way, great.  This week is Thanksgiving Day.  I will celebrate it by eating things.  Take That, ISIS!  Right, right.  Maybe ISIS is just trying to be our friends by blowing stuff up.  That's the only way they know how to interact with others.  That's a lesson to be learned from my play.  Hero.  Also Fuck ISIS.  Hero.  What if every time I call myself a Hero, I'm actually being a villain.  I couldn't handle that.  I call myself a Hero all the time.  I think mostly based on the fact I've played Guitar Hero a few times.  That qualifies me to be a Hero as far as I'm concerned.  And I'm concerned very far.  The sun never sets on my concernment.
    Hey, concernment is a word!  Hero!  That's how that goes.  So I did try a little bit of that potential marijuana.  Smelled minty, so it's probably something.  But I didn't get high.  Could it have been mint leaves?  I wouldn't rule it out as a prime possibility.  Either way, Mint Leaves are a gateway drug.  First you smoke mint leaves, then you start chewing peppermint gum, then you're onto chewing tobacco, and then autoerotic asphyxiation.  That classic story we've seen too much of time and time again.  Okay, what else is going on.  Is there a way to get artificial mint leaves?  Gotta drug test comin' up.  These are the real issues.  I had a thought today, I wouldn't mind some Nicorete Gum.  But with no plans of not smoking.  Just to sort of compliment it every now and again.  Well, we'll put that in the Maybe Pile.  Pile of what?  Pile of shit.  Maybe the reason Private Pyle was so upset was because of his name association with Shit.  Can't rule it out completely.  Probably just his way of avoiding the Vietnam War.  Some people became teachers, some people moved to Canada, and some people went through basic training for the Marines and did a murder suicide.  You know, that story we've seen time and time again?  Because it's a good movie?  At least that first third of it?
    That's how I feel about things.  Turned out "Pyle" was a nickname for him, not his real name, I see on IMDB.  That's bullshit.  If you have a nickname, you have friends.  If you have friends, you don't murder suicide.  That's a rule.  I wonder if R. Lee Ermey pulled an M Night Shyamalan and added to his name egregiously.  You know, for the women.  Microsoft Frontpage thinks I'm trying to say Himalayan.  I don't think I was, but who am I to argue.  You could make the argument Spell Check is smarter than me.  Certainly knows how to correctly spell most words.  Someone shold edit Microsoft word so that if you misspell something, it goes, I'm not trying to be a dick or anything, but did you mean to say...  Give the robot function some character and some manners, why not.  Probably would fit as a prequel to Her.  A spell check one could relate to.  Either way, what the Hell am I talking about.  Man, is positive feedback... that there is a gateway drug.  First it's positive feedback, then you get the power, then you get the women.  I did it all for the nookie.  I'm not trying to be a dick or anything, but I don't know that word.  See, you're wrong.  It's a word.  You moron.  Looks like I'm the Smarter.  Also, that's not a sequence befitting a gateway drug.  Some other kind of sequence.  I don't have all the details.  I wonder how R Lee Ermey would react to the legions of people like me who might go R Lee ARMY is more like it!  Probably call them an asshole and punch them in the gut.  That's what I would do.  The bad news is there's no more room for positive feedback in this class. 
    Well, great, that's great.  Now how am I supposed to get The Power and then The Women.  I think it turned out they were friends is because writing is my only friend.  And I have Love/Hate/Little Bit More Love relationship with it.  That translated into the characters having a Hate relationship grounded in Love.  That's how I feel.  One of my favorite jokes in it, though, got some negative feedback.  It has them both doing push-ups while a pedestrian just walks by, unfazed.  I got comments that the pedestrian should be trying to get some coffee or something, trying to engage them.  I can live with that rewrite.  It's not too far off.  But I of course considered that when writing it and figured my way was the best.  Well, that's what this process is for, I guess.  I think it just interrupts the flow a little bit.  The potential customer.  I like them going through the whole play without any customers.  What's Spell Check have to say.  Spell Check won't respond.  My only option is to ask Jeeves.  But all he does is send me to websites.  Never gives his own thoughts or opinions.  Whatta waste of space.  The characters are so lonely that they are each other's only friends and don't even like each other.  That's what I'm sayin', my real life was just bleedin' over into this masterpiece. Halfway through, I coulda raised my hand and just been like, Can I ask a question.  What is Friends?  But it would be violating the rules.  Can't talk while your shit's being workshopped.  That's workshopping 101.  When you learn how to workshop workshopping.
    Isn't Friday a big day in Work Shopping?  I don't have all the details.  What else is going on.  The good news is both classes I'm signed up for for the Spring are workshopping classes.  Fiction and Poetry.  I can knock those out of the park, to use sports lingo.  I think if, in baseball, the batter catches the pitch, the pitcher should be out.  It would certainly lead to a lot of broken hands, which is a good thing for some reason.  That's how I feel.  It was too cold today.  The morning lied to me.  Went to school a little bit to warm in my winter jacket, left school too cold.  I hate it when times of the day are devious.  It's probably in my top ten list of top bottom things I don't not not like.  Also, you don't have to get up from a seat on the bus for an Elderly unless if it's specifically stated in the front seats.  These are the rules.  I think I get too much of a charge when exchanging pleasantries with store clerks.  Thanks.  Have a nice day!  Like they're hearing that and goin' Whaatta hero.  I like that guy.  They must hear it all the time.  Have a nice day!  Well, I wasn't going to, but if that's your recommendation...  Hero.  What else and crap.
    Let's see.  Entry, entry.  Gotta smoke some more mint.  I mean, it's probably just really weak marijuana made to taste/smell like mint.  I don't know.  Maybe I should leave a note on the grass where I found it goin' missed connection-- you left something here and I took it.  What was it?  That's one route to take.  Or bring it to a chemist who can deduce what it is.  Something like that.  Either way, Huh?  What's going on.  There were some kids playing really loud music in a car and I looked at one of em and he was like What The Fuck You Lookin At?  And I quickly walked away like a Hero.  What should I have done, gone I'm looking at you.  The kid with the loud music.  What's the deal?  I can't lower myself to his level.  Which, let's face it, is probably the only way I'll ever be able to lower myself to someone's level.  On account of the shortness.  You know, me, short?  The short guy.  We'll see whose laughing when there's a school shooter and I escape by climbing through the air vents.  And may or may not go get help?  No one would be laughing then.  It's a somber occasion.  Now's the time for grieving.
    Now's the time for paragraph.  What else is going on.  Why would drug dealers be selling Mint Leaves.  I mean, there's no evidence it was a drug deal.  Let's not jump to conclusions.  I'm not a big fan of jumping anyway.  Seems kinda silly.  Just fell into a Poker Daze for thirty minuets.  Now I'm back and possibly better than ever.  We can't rule it out completely.  What's going on and crap.  Seventh paragraph?  Like those odds, in terms of getting a double entry.  I Like Those Odds.  I'll have to talk about shit and things.  I can handle that probably.  Let's see.  Wide world of sports.  Wide.  World.  Of.  Sports.  Nothing's coming to mind.  Al Roker complaining about not getting a taxi because he's black.  How do we know the taxi driver just doesn't like Al Roker.  #Topical.  Honestly, I don't know why anyone wouldn't like Al Roker.  Anyone who publicly talks about shitting his pants is alright in my book.  Taxi Driver just didn't want him to make a mess, that's it.  Now, if it was my idea for Uber Toilets, he'd be prepared for anything.  That's how that goes.  What else is going how it goes and whatnot.  My birthday is in a mere fortnight and 5/7ths of a week.  I'm wishing to turn 27.  I figure, set the bar low, and I won't be disappointed.
    Shit, this is only the eighth paragraph?  Alright, we're not getting to ten.  Not at this rate.  Oh well, still a good sized piece of bullshit.  This website is the digital equivalent of shitting one's pants.  It's a tough job, but somebody's got to do it probably.  What else.  The guy everyone likes is alive again on The Walking Dead.  Good for him.  And not like most people who are alive again on the show, he ain't no zombie or nothin'.  Just straight up living.  Good for him.  Good fur us, right.  We all need a little Steven Yeun in our lives.  In the meantime, though, considering the possibility he's a Japanese Spy, we should probably keep him in an internment camp somewhere.  Just for safety #Yesallsyrians.  Not sure what that joke accomplishes.  Either way, what else.  Let's see.  Wide world of sports.  I think I've devolved in my participation in this class.  Gone from on-point to kind of crappy.  Oh well, I'm not there to participate, I'm there to have people say nice things to me.  Right?  Right.  What else.  Also, to have a four hour break from drinking.  That'll do the trick.  See ya later.

-6:10 P.M.                                                                                


Wednesday, November 18, 2015

If It Looks Like a Title, And Acts Like a Title...

    Wait, I know this one.  Give me a second.  It's a... shit, I just lost it.  One thing I found, though, was a gram bag of what is most likely marijuana on the street.  Looks like like bullshit leaves.  Smells a little bit like weed.  Looks like pencil shavings.  Maybe that's what passes for marijuana these days.  Either way, not smokin' it.  Save it for later, just like a squirrel amassing his abundance of nuts.  Also, probably a 50% chance I'd be smoking pencil shavings.  That's probably why it was discarded.  That explains that.  My play ended up pretty mediocre.  A little bit too mediocre for my liking.  I did get a comment on someone who read it this morning though that they liked it.  So I guess, empirically speaking, I'm a Hero.  They must have done experiments on chimpanzees with marijuana.  They must have at some point, right?  I wanna see some footage of that.  Give him an edible, ten minutes later, he's somehow found an iPod out of nowhere and is zoning out.  That's a resourceful chimp.  Probably was storing his iPod, not unlike the squirrel amassing his abundance of nuts, for when he really needs it.  Also, if people are paying twenty dollars for a bag of pencil shavings, maybe I should get into the Dope Game.  I could make a killing.  Not literally, of course.  I won't murder anyone.  That's where I draw the line.  Also, looking to draw a line?  Have a bag of Sweet 'n Low.  Just what the doctor ordered. 
    Right, right.  What else.  Maybe some guy just bought pencil shavings from a drug dealer.  He needed them for a science experiment.  The experiment I guess would be trying to put together a pencil yourself.  Gotta have pencil shavings in there, that's a key component, I would imagine.  The good news is Man is that play mediocre.  But, I guess, based on empirical evidence, Good mediocre!  Looks like someone's a Great.  Me.  I'm the great.  I think making the second half them getting progressively lonelier and ultimately becoming friends woulda been good, but I sorta half assed it.  They do get more civil, but there's no real culmination either way.  Well, that's life for ya.  Write about what you know.  And what I know is... wait, I just had it.  Shit.  What else should we be experimenting on chimpanzees with.  I wonder if you just add a chair to a chimpanzee habitat, if eventually, they'll just start sitting on it.  I hope not.  That's too clever.  First it's sitting on chairs, before you know it, Rise of the Planet of the Apes.  What do you think they're rising from.  The chair.  It makes sense.  Either way, what else is going on.  Lemme give those shavings another sniff.  You know, in the spirit of science and all that.
    Ha!  To keep the bag safe, I unwittingly put it in a box filled with colored pencils.  So I was immediately like, this smells more like pencil than ever!  Jeez.  Yeah, it smells a little bit like weed.  Anyway, who cares.  That's behind me now.  And in front of me.  But certainly not currently.  That's how I feel.  Man, is reading other people's plays tedious.  Short stories were okay.  I don't know why.  There were a few decent moments in my play, but my favorite was, one Cart guy goes to other, Kind of slow today.  And the other guy responds, Probably because you're an Asshole.  Not the most clever thing, but that line just hits me in the gut.  I'm a little concerned I didn't drive the point home that they're two carts, right next to each other.  When you read the exposition, yeah, it says two carts on a corner.  But some people might miss the inherent humor in that.  Oh well, I ain't here to hold yer hand.  I'm here to call people assholes through the safety net of it being a character calling another character an asshole.  Anyway, what else is going on.  Probably things and crap.  I think I've had breakfast and/or lunch maybe a combined five times in the last month.  But I eat a lot at dinner and drink.  So that evens that crap out.  The good news is whatever. 
    The good news is new paragraph.  That's how I feel.  I'm trying a new whiskey.  Marshal.  Hopefully it will help me Forget Sarah.  That's how I feel.  Indeed.  I'm pretty sure the liquor store attendant audibly went, Here We Go when I walked into the shop. I can't say for 100% certain.  But pretty sure.  I'm pretty sure I'm getting over my License Plate addiction.  I just don't get the same rush I used to get seeing a good license plate.  It's for the best, I suppose.  When I'm done here I can be readin' some peers' plays.  That has the potential to be interesting.  That's how I feel.  If I had a chimpanzee, I'd get him to smoke this most-likely-weed.  You know, for science.  I'm pretty sure I've seen footage of chimps smoking cigarettes.  It seems like something that could have happened.  This is just taking the next logical step.  You know, that sort of thing.  Right, right.  That's how I feel.  What else is going on.  I was coincidently listening to some music on Spotify that was some of my favorite music to listen to while high back in the day.  Arcade Fire.  New Pornographers.  And here, God drops some weed in my lap.  There's some divine intervention for ya right there.  Although, listening to it last night, and getting as much or more out of it than I did when I was high in my past life... sorta don't need it anymore.  Right?  Probably.  Probably the best thing to come out of this is I found my colored pencils.  Now all I need to do is to get into a fifth grade art class, and I'm in business, baby.  Also, is it really wise to market scented magic markers to children?  Do you want them to try eating it?
    Well, do ya, punk?  What else is going on.  This is probably the last paragraph.  Also, I've used a lot of Magic Markers in my day.  Don't get the Magic prefix.  All seemed pretty pedestrian to me.  Let's talk about it.  What else is going on.  Crazysheet wasn't working on Monday.  Wrote an entry, put it up, whole website was down.  So, there's a good chance, if you're reading this, there's a new entry to you under this one.  Enjoy.  Also, if you're reading this, there's a good chance you're reading this.  Scientifically speaking and all that crap.  Jeez, what else is going on.  Gotta be enough going on for one more paragraph.  Lets see.  What else can we do to chimpanzees that would amuse us as humans.  Dress 'em up in human clothes?  There's an idea.  I don't want to make fun of chimps.  They're our friends.  For now.  Terry Collins finished with the Bronze in National League Baseball Manager of the Year.  I believe on the grounds of, "He was pretty bad at in-game managing, but probably must have been good in other areas, right?"  They should give MVP to Ruben Tejada.  You know, as a Rudy type thing. Anyway, see ya later.

-5:02 P.M.                                              


Monday, November 16, 2015

Titleman, Titleman

    Does whatever a Title can.  That's how I feel.  What's going on friends.  Almost done with my play.  Surprisingly, I found out it's hard to base an entire play around two people just cursing each other.  But, I had that, "people who get progressively lonelier" idea in my back pocket, and, lo and behold, that's a great way to tie up the story.  Pays to brainstorm, that's all that is.  Anyway, what's going on in the wide world of sports.  I saw my Doctor for the last time on Friday.  Seein' a new person from now on.  Oh, the times we had, me and Dr. ... something.  I remember his first name is Doctor.  Everything else is kind of blurry.  Anyway, great, just great.  I feel like there was a Met game or something.  Oh, right.  Paris terrorist attacks.  I'm not sure what makes that a joke.  Either way, sorry.  France is a good country.  Based on fried foods, I've found out that French is synonymous with Freedom.  I like Freedom.  And I like Fries.  And I like France.  That settles that.  I like how George Bush used to say The terrorists hate us for our freedom.  Yup, that must be it.  Damn those Americans!  I hate them for their freedoms!  Man am I really bad at the punch-lines of jokes.  I had the whole world ahead of me with that set-up.  I wonder how this joke is gonna turn out!  Then, well, you saw what happened.  I just repeated the set-up.  Well, that's past now.  We have to continue with the entry.  The good news is now I'm afraid of Muslims.
    Hi!  Second paragraph.  Originally I imagined the Cart Keepers as Middle Eastern, but I ended up giving them generic English names, so I guess they could be played by anyone.  This play goes beyond color lines.  Probably.  Either way, Hi!  Actually, I don't know.  One of them had a father who died in a Parasailing accident.  That sounds like a pretty White thing to have happen.  Well, live and learn, that's how I feel.  Can we change this to killed in a terrorist attack.  You know, the minority version of a parasailing accident.  I'm open to all ideas.  Except bad ones.  That was a bad one.  Let's move on.  The good news is I'm almost done with the play.  And have the Progressive Loneliness idea to finish it up.  Doesn't get much better than that.  The moral of the story is lets unionize Cart People.  Or, at the very least, let's get them a name.  Cart People can't be right.  There's gotta be something to call them.  Anyway.  I was watching this program about a new drug somewhere in Europe where, if you do it consistently, you will die within a year.  Those stakes are pretty high.  That's got to be a pretty good drug.  I remember the second main component of it is Gasoline.  That sounds about right. 
    Right, right.  Right!  What's going on.  I don't need those seven to ten years.  I'd much rather smoke cigarettes.  I'm a Hero.  Think of all the good smoking cigarettes is doing for me right now.  Like, well, you see.  It does, it's good because, well.  When you think about it, it does help in the arena of, hmm, well, well.  Stops me from biting my nails!  50% of the time.  Still bite my nails.  That's why I keep getting infections.  Try to keep up.  Smoking cigarettes is just my way of celebrating my freedom.  It's really a National Security issue when it comes down to it.  Instead of imprisoning people for 7-10 years, can't we just give them cigarettes.  it seems like the more humane thing to do.  Also, I found out that it does make sense for all these license plates to have G in them.  Someone explained it to me.  I forget the explanation.  It might have been something like, yeah, dealerships end up giving out similar license plates.  I don't have all the details.  But it was a relief to find out that I'm not in the Matrix.  And momentarily upsetting to realize all this ranting about license plates was for naught.  I was just ill informed.  That settles that.  Still, my dream job would be to document and categorize interesting license plates.
    Because I'm an Idiot!  Hey, using italics to drive the point home.  Talk about a Hero or some shit.  Man, is that play I wrote mediocre.  Mediocre is good.  Everyone loves them some Mediocre.  There's a French word.  The play I wrote is Freedom Quality.  That sums that up.  The nurse I saw today was filling in for another Nurse, and she asked me if I'd seen someone I haven't seen in seven years, who was hospitalized the same time as me.  No.  That was three thousand days ago.  And what a glorious three thousand days its been.  Full of License Plates and Freedom Fries.  And I didn't have to deal with this nurse's bullshit.  Doesn't get much better than that.  I found a place to use the bathroom at the Main St. Bus Stop.  Tried one place.  Go Next Door.  Felt pretty confident about going next door. No bathroom.  Maybe they meant More next door.  Bathroom For Customers Only, the sign said.  Fuck that.  I bet you won't enforce that.  And that bet paid off!  So I consider today a Win.  Also, it turns out the only people on Main Street are Asian.  I had no idea. Either way, what else is going on.  I watched Back To The Future: Part III yesterday.  Ha, he went back to the future again.  That sums that up.  Except for the fact that it's pretty much exactly the opposite of what happened.  Well, he goes back to the future in the end.  Spoiler Alert.
    Also, what age is Doc Brown supposed to be.  Let's get into it.  And why is he hanging out with a kid in High School.  Doesn't seem right.  He needs to make some friends his own age.  Believe me, I've been there.  And still am.  And probably will be forever.  Back To The Future would be an entirely different movie if it's just Doc Brown going into the past to make friends with his peers back when it was still possible.  I'd watch that movie.  I've got nothing better to do.  Anyway, what else.  There's a lot of plot holes in Back To The Future.  For further information, I don't know, go fuck yourself or something.  I'm still in the head of my characters, I apologize.  All they do is tell each other to Fuck Off, pretty much, over and over.  That's what makes it a good play.  Repetition.  I learned about it somewhere.  I wanna say Class.  I can't wait to justify my script before Workshopping commences.  Well, I had this idea about two Cart people... right next to each other... who just viscerally, gutturally, hate each other... and I had had this other idea, about people who get progressively lonelier as the play progresses... and I combined them.  That's when the applause kicks in.  Figure about two minutes of the Workshopping will just be applause.  On the one hand, I don't want them to end up liking each other.  They should hate each other as much or more as at the beginning of the play.  But, logically, it's really the only route to go.  Or at least the easiest.  For me, the easiest is the only way to go. 
    That's how I feel about crap and crap.  What else is going on.  You know me, always wondering about what's going on.  It's my hook.  I gotta get back that fire I had last week about re-getting into music.  It's as much a social thing as anything else.  I'm not naive enough (Or, Freedom Stupid) to think that it's gonna get me girls.  But it can be my way into some sort of community, right?  Probably?  Possibly?  Anything could happen?  You never know.  One of the girls I see every time I get my blood work done seemed less Retarded than usual.  It's good to see people making progress.  Really warms the heart.  That's how I feel.  Anyway.  Yeesh.  What a bullshit entry.  I shouldn't be allowed to make any more jokes about Back To The Future, The Shawshank Redemption, and The Shining.  Done 'em to death.  And all of them based on Stephen King books.  Every... last... one of them.  You gotta assume Stephen King wrote Back To The Future and just never released it, right?  Well, you don't have to do anything.  I respect and celebrate your freedoms when jumping to stupid conclusions about stupid things.  Anyway.  Global Warming making the weather all weird.  Forty in the morning, 65 in the afternoon.  I hate it so much.  The good news is, our kids are gonna ask us, What Are Seasons?  And once you get past Salt-n-Pepa, you're out of answers.  Maybe the next generation is gonna love the higher sea level, I don't know.  Kids latch onto crazy things.
    Right, right.  What else is going on.  Also, we should have all been issued Hover Boards at the beginning of the year.  I feel lied to and taken advantage of.  Those are season-ings.  Don't you smart mouth me!  I have no qualms about throwing you into the Fire Place again.  You try to burn me?  I'll show you a burning!!!  Right, right.  Where awas I.  How is Santa Claus not traumatizing for children.  A Big Fat Man is gonna break into our house and leave us presents!  That's the most horrifying concept I could ever think of.  No, the real traumatizing is when they find out he doesn't exist.  Kids are weird.  I blame Jesus.  Anyway, what else.  Have you heard about this, can you believe it, they're starting Christmas so early!  It's crazy!  Can you believe this!  Yeah, they started that joke-rant so early, too-- you know, years and decades ago?  I slammed an inexistent person.  That'll show them.  No, before class, one classmate was doin' that rant.  That'll show them for trying to make conversation!  Into the Fire Place you go!  No one's safe from the Fire Place!  That's how I feel.  Man, the people naming things got lazy when it came to the Fire Place.  What do we call this thing.  It's the place where there's fire, get off my back!  Can you believe this, have you heard of this.
    Okay, great.  I guess I'm doing more paragraphs.  Who named things.  Adam?  I know he named living beings.  Probably had a crack at naming things, too, what with all his experience.  Eve must have been like Can I name some things?  And Adam was like, Nope, got everything covered.  Have you heard of this?  And so on.  I saw a license plate that started with, "GZD."  And I was like,  Ha.  Oh My Gizzod.  It's slang you dolts.  What else is going on.  Shit, made it to the eigth paragraph.  That's a lotta bullshit.  Oh, the new W/ Bob and Davids were great.  Watching them, I was like, this is pretty good.  But then my mind kept going back to sketch after sketch and was like, that was Great!  So, that worked out pretty well.  I haven't watched the Behind-the-Scenes special.  I don't want to ruin the illusion.  That would be like watching a Magician do magic in reverse.  I don't wanna see that.  And by that, I mean that sentence.  Complete and utter nonsense. 
    If I do shorter paragraphs, I can make it to ten!  That's a concept I can get behind.  Only two more to go, now.  Also, who gets excited about writing ten paragraphs.  Gotta only be me, right?  There's seven billion people in the world.  If you went up to all of them saying, How would you like to get to ten paragraphs?  It would be me and maybe a couple hundred of other weirdos.  The point is I'm Freedom Great.  That's how I feel.  What else is going on.  I want to get thrown into a fire place.  That sounds warm and welcoming.  Can't argue with that.  What else is going on.  What does Santa Claus have to do with Jesus being born. Santa Claus is friends with Jesus.  As far as I know, that's pretty much the justification.  Does Jesus have any say in whose naughty and whose nice?  You'd think his opinion would be considered.  When Jesus was born, Santa brought him Mirth, Music, and Mayhem.  Something like that.  I don't have all the details.  Great, just great.  What else is going on.  I can't believe crazysheet is already talking about Christmas.  I can't believe I have a reader! Hi!  Stay a while!  What's going on?  Give me some notes, great, I don't care!
    I guess that's a paragraph.  Prove me wrong!  What else is going on.  You can't give yourself notes.  Maybe for Christmas, I'll ask for notes.  Santa has got to have some opinions on how to make my website better.  That's how I feel about Christmas.  What else is going on.  Ten paragraphs.  And you all doubted me.  What else is going on.  Being thrown into a fire sure sounds nice right about now.  That's how I feel.  Anyway.  Guess I'll finish up the play tomorrow.  Sounds like a plan.  Gotta come up with a Title, though.  My main critique from the teacher for my story was that the Title was too plain.  It was about homeless people living underneath a bridge.  The title was, "Under The Bridge."  No good, I guess.  Gotta do better.  And, me, shit, I shuld be knocking these titles out of the park.  Is there a way I can make a pun with Go Karts like I did in the title last week?  Obviously, without it sounding forced?  We'll see how that goes, I guess.  Let's see.  Two cart people.  Start out as bitter enemies.  End up as tenuous friends.  I'm drawing a blank.  Oh, I know.  Let's Go Cart.  Yeesh.  How about, I Wonder What's Going To Happen.  That'll set you up real nice for what's going to happen.  Anyway, see ya later.

-5:32 P.M.                                              


Thursday, November 12, 2015

What Happens When You Cross A Title With An Entry

    You get a crazysheet.  I'm not satisfied with that title.  Now, all I have to do is not be satisfied with the entry.  And we'll get an unsatisfying crazysheet.  You know, like most times.  Alright!  Anyway, what else is going on.  Winter meetings in November.  Spring training in March.  Has the world gone mad?  Do seasons mean nothing anymore?  I know I predicted No More Seasons later, in the future, in an earlier entry, but I figured we still had some time.  This is all going too fast.  Thanks a lot, Obamacare.  Anyway, what the what.  That's what a Liberal Robot says when you ask how Obama feels.  Anyway, let's get into the entry and crap.  Liberal Robot, you know, like Hillary Clinton.  Let's talk about it.  Or, not.  It's my duty as a website to remain impartial.  They all look alike to me.  Anyway.  I believe if you write in, Liberal Robot in the ballot box next November the vote will get counted for Hillary Clinton.  It's legality, don't blame me.  I didn't make the system.  If I did, I woulda programmed Hillary Clinton to do more cartwheels.  Literal ones.  Anyway, how did I get off track so soon in the entry.  Now it's on me to get back on track.  Let's do it and crap.  Instead of a debate, one time, can't we just see a Physical Aptitude Test?  People would love it.  Martin O Malley climbing up a rope.  Jeb Bush doing crunches.  Bernie Sanders doing laps around the room.  Make it happen!  Anyway, what else is going on.  I'm not proud of this first paragraph.  Usually it takes me two hours after the entry is over to revoke my proudship.  Oh well, live and learn.
    Great.  What else is going on.  Are legitimate Robot Presidents in our future?  I hope not.  He'll just give tax breaks to his robot friends.  And then where would we be.  Also, at what point does a robot have to start paying taxes.  Has to be comin' up, right?  That's how I feel.  Robots are a safe topic to talk about.  Political Physical Aptitude Tests, someone's bound to get offended.  Standing up to robots?  I think that's a nonpartisan issue.  Anyway, what else.  Gotta write that play.  Right, right.  Probably cut out the Super Soaker bit.  And add twenty to thirty new bits.  There could be a bit where they try to outdo each other in the arena of physical aptitude.  I'm way more in shape than you?  OH YEAH, I CAN DO TWENTY PUSH UPS, WATCH THIS SHIT. Then he he starts.  Other guy, I can do thirty jumping jacks!  Then he starts.  Alright.  Makin' progress.  And, then, while that's happening, have a pedestrian just walk by.  Only time another character enters the scene.  Just one time.  Pedestrian walking by while they're doing push ups and jumping jacks.  And he doesn't even seem fazed.  Just walks straight by.  Alright, great.  What else is going on.  I have to turn this crap into something I can actually hand in.  Crap.  Oh well, gotta do something.
    So, great.  It's a fortnight from Thanksgiving.  Why do Jewish people start their day at night.  Are they vampires?  They're probably vampires.  Who starts their day when they go to sleep.  Makes no sense.  What else is going on.  I don't mean to brag, but my toe is still fully healed.  I guess I do mean to brag.  It's great.  I want to share it with the world.  Now that you know toes can stay healed, it gives you something to look forward to and celebrate.  Jewish Days starting at night.  I hope you're not planning on Fiddling on that Roof all night!  We need to sleep!  Carpenters can fiddle on roofs.  How come no one ever talks about that.  These are the real issues.  Also, I saw that play.  No one breaks into song that much in their lives.  Just doesn't ring true to me.  I don't get how the President pardons a turkey each year for Thanksgiving.  Turkeys aren't guilty of anything.  They don't need to be pardoned.  Turkeys never did nothing to no one.  You just took an innocent animal, put it on the chopping block, literally, and at the last minute, let it free, goin', you got lucky.  And it's gotta live with that for the rest of it's life.  You put the fear of God in that turkey, man.  For no reason.  Anyway, what else is going on.                
Anyway, what else is going on.  I know I said that twice in a row, what of it.  Is the only reason the United States stopped expanding its empire is because it reached 50 states and was like, yeah that's a pretty good number.  Don't wanna muck up a nice round number.  My guess?  Probably not.  Still, something to think about.  Also, who cares.  Not me.  And I'm the one what wrote the thing.  Also, why Alaska?  Do we really need Alaska?  Sure, it turned out to have oil.  Did we know that when we got Alaska?  I don't know.  Consult Google if you're inclined.  By the time we're done with this place, you'll be down to three words for snow!  I never realized it, but America is turning out to be somewhat of a jerk.  We need a Liberal Robot to set things right, that's how I feel.  Or, someone who can do laps around the room.  I've narrowed it down to two.  Right, right.  What else.  I never thought I'd make it to the halfway of paragraph four.  Not the way we started out.  Rehashing tired Jewish Vampire jokes and whatnot.  I consider this a victory.  We know Hillary Clinton can sit for eight hours straight.  I think that's as close to a Fitness Test as we're gonna get this election.  I think the longest I had to sit was taking PSAT prep classes for four hours straight.  And that was hard.  Eight hours straight, no joke, that's pretty good.  Of course, if you're president, you're gonna have to be sitting all the time.  Nonstop sitting.  That's what the job's all about. 
    Alright, we made it to the fifth paragraph.  That's great, just great.  Tomorrow I'll start on my play.  I'm a man with a plan.  Now all I need is a Canal and I'm well on my way to Palindrome.  Shouldn't the word for Palindrome be a palindrome?  Let's get into it.  Call it a Palinilap.  That's how I feel.  Also, which is better, a palindrome where the middle two letters are the same, or when it surrounds one single middle letter.  Let's get into it.  I think I like the kind where it's one single middle letter.  It's a choice, okay.  You can make your own decision.  I'm not here to force anything on you.  The point is the entry is almost over.  I just had a great idea for a play.  It's just ten minutes of a guy at a typewriter, and he keeps typing, and every twenty-thirty seconds, he goes, No! and tears the page out and replaces it with a new one.  I can do that.  Teacher can't say shit.  It's commentary.  We'll put that in the maybe pile.  I'd have to write it all out, though.  I can't just say, This goes on for ten minutes.  I'd have to time it and write it accordingly.  That sounds like too much work.  I can't be trusted with too much work.  Because I don't want to do it.  Better just write some dialogue and estimate how long that takes.  And at the end, he can go, Wait...  This isn't a typewriter.  And scene.  Alright, I'm on a role now.  Gotta write another paragraph.  This is gold!
    Right, right.  I'm all about bullshit.  That's pretty much all it is when it comes down to it.  Anyway.  What else is going on.  And the play can be called, "Wait..." I'm full of bullshit ideas.  Great.  What else is going on.  Gotta finish up the entry, that's good.  He'd have to be miming typing, though.  If there's a typewriter there, and he concludes that there isn't a typewriter, people will be confused.  Doesn't make sense.  Only makes sense the other way.  Then it makes a load of sense.  Maybe have a sound effect of typing.  That's okay.  I can work with that.  Also, how come when I look at the course offerings for Studio Art, there's a class called Typography I.  Is that just a class about different fonts.  And, if so, what the Hell is going on in Typography II.  Is that when they get to Wingdings?  I'm sure it's something.  I'm gonna go Google it like a Hero.  I guess it's just making your own fonts.  Well, great.  We sure need more Fonts.  Is there a career in that, though?  Seems like all the jobs would be concentrated at the top.  The real best of the best Font Designers.  Kinda hard to break into that business.  Right, right.  What else is going on.  I'm currently registered for two Spring Classes, but I'm probably only going to take one.  And one of them, the teacher is like this well acclaimed author and crap.  That'll be good experience.  I can be like, Can I absorb your essence?  And she'd be like, I've been waiting my entire life for someone to ask me that.  And then we'd start dating, and soon enough... well, you get the idea.  I guess that's it.  See ya later.

-5:35 P.M.                            


Wednesday, November 11, 2015

Nothing Can Stop Me Now!

    Finally, it's Wednesday.  I've been waiting all Tuesday for this!  Anyway, what's going on.  Registered for some classes.  Probably end up narrowing it down to one, but for now, I'm well on my way to earning those ultimately imaginary credits.  Also, jeez.  I went on Potential Class Excursion yesterday.  I guess I can drop the Potential part.  Either way, it was pretty cool.  Kinda made me want to get back into guitar, learn some guitar, learn some singing, write some songs, and get out there and do it.  I mean, I'm a smart guy.  If I just had the skills, it would fall into place, right?  Right?  Probably!  That's how I feel.  Also, it turns out having a life is probably a pretty good thing.  Never woulda guessed.  That's half why i wanna do it.  Just find some sort of freakin' community.  People love musicians.  Well, musicians love musicians.  Particularly themselves.  So, just gotta find some other musicians!  I'm well on my way to wasting my parents supporting-me-money ad infinitum!  It's good to have goals.  Just ask hockey players.  They know.  Anyway, what else is going on.  Preferably more in the real world.  I gotta write the fuckin' play by next week.  All I have is, "Two guys with carts in proximity to each other really hate each other."  Draw that out for ten pages.  I just had an idea!  At one point, one of them shoots the other one with a Super Soaker.  And, for some reason, that guy has a super soaker too!  And he's like, I knew this would come in handy!  And then he shoots the first guy right back!  Okay, that's two things I have now.  Gettin' closer.  And then at the end, have a narrator's voice go, after wrapping the plot up very eloquently, think like a Morgan Freeman type thing, Brought To You By Supersoakers-- Get Superly Soaked.
    I'm well on my way to... some... place.  Where people go when they write plays.  I wanna say Pet Cemetary?  That's probably it.  There's things wrong with me.  The point is why am I doing this.  I got real work to write, Jack.  This'll get me primed, though.  That's my false justification.  Also, do you think Morgan Freeman would be in my play?  I kinda hope not, because it's never actually being performed.  It's gonna be read aloud at some point, but I think that's probably beneath him.  When you've got a body like mine, people are gonna want to see it, he might say.  Right, right.  Anyway.  I got a free Spa Treatment at Class Excursion yesterday because we all had to ask questions into a box, sort of like a round table thing, and they give prizes to the people's questions they use, and they read mine.  Gave it away to one of my classmates, I don't need that.  My question was, "
Is Internet Good?" and they all had to say whether internet was good or not.  For writers.  That was me, I made them say that.  And of course I had an upside down question mark.  Why wouldn't I.  Makes people know I mean business.  That's a surefire way to make friends.  Be a unique jerk.  That's what potentially being a musician is all about.  Being unique jerks.  And honestly, I got the response I was looking for.  The host picked it out, laughed a little to herself, and I knew right away it was mine.  Plus, one of my classmates' prize was a free drink, so I ended up with that as a consolation prize.  I'll take it.  I'm all about free drinking.
    The point is that's over and I'm here now and everything's okay.  Gotta get back out there.  First I have the music.  Then I get the power.  Then I get the women!  I saw it in a documentary once.  It was a Medical Mystery about a guy with a scar on his face.  Yep.  What else is going on.  That's from Scarface, right?  Close enough.  Man.  Learnin' music.  I'll be playing Power Chords all over the damn place.  Playin' a D, WHAT I'LL HIT YOU WITH A C.  Think that's it?  NOPE HERE COMES AN A.  Ah, it's finally ove-  G CHORD BABY.  Yeesh.  What else is going on in the wide world of sports.  Stick with that G Chord, start goin' twee-da-la-dee-dee-dee on the treble, oh baby.  You just got rock and/or rolled.  Why am I here again?  Oh yeah.  Internet is okay.  I don't remember their answers mostly to the question, though.  One guy was goin something like, Is TIME good?  Time is like the internet.  If Time is good, then the internet is good.  And I nodded, and he was like, does that make sense?  And I was like, sure!  That's how I feel.  Was he talking about how nothing ever dies on the internet, and just stays there forever?  Honestly, I don't think so.  If he were, in retrospect, that makes some sense.  Maybe he was.  I don't know.  I'm just an idiot who uses upside down question marks to amuse myself.  And gives away valuable, valuable spa treatments.  I'm not 100% sure on what a Spa is.  Is that like where they have tanning beds?  And/or manicures and/or pedicures?  Not interested.  I saw someone die in a tanning bed in Final Destination.  I don't want to die.  I have so much left to do.
    Like, things, and crap.  One would imagine.  Spa-derman.  He's a superhero of some sort.  I don't have all the details.  Right, right.  I mean, it's not that absurd.  There are people out there who do things.  Why can't I be one of them?  I'm a smart guy.  Standardized Testing has proven as much.  Also, I'll only write songs where the chord progression spells things.  That's my hook.  Everyone needs a hook.  What else is going on.  I burnt my scrotum a little bit yesterday.  From cigarette ash.  Not something I would want to re-experience.  But it did offer a glimpse into those people who like getting hurt as part of sex.  That's why my immediate reaction was AH NOT MY CUP OF TEA.  Although, if I was ever going to exclaim, GOODNESS GRACIOUS GREAT BALLS OF FIRE! I missed my chance.  Jokez.  What else is going on.  Some good alliteration going on there.  See, I know poetry.  Alliteration,... the rest.  That's why license plates are so fun.  What three words could this be spelling out.  It's good mental exercise.  I'm sick of, "G," though.  I've told you about all the, "GX," and there's a lot of that.  But if you just go with, "G?"  Every other car.  Every other car.  I was never under the impression they just give license plates in order, but my life experience has me doubting that sentiment.  Or like, by dealer.  Dealerships in Queens get saddled with "G," I don't know. 
    I just don't know.  Someone should write a book about it.  The Great Big Book of License Plates.  Sounds like a good book.  I heard it's great in the title.  That's a good sign.  Also, That's a Good Sign is the companion book.  About some really nifty road signs.  Well, what else.  There's a class called Intermediate Tumbling.  I'm sure tumbling is a real thing, probably.  Still sounds funny.  Kinda sounds right up my alley, come to think about it.  Anyway, great, what else.  For someone who likes do to things, I really don't do too much.  Kinda sad.  Oh well, onwards and upwards.  Winter Meetings still going on.  I think the Mets should just trade themselves to the Royals.  It's a pretty even trade, but I feel they'll be ever so slightly better with the Royals 25 man roster.  Call it a hunch.  Honestly, fuck that.  I'd take the Mets over the Royals any day of the week, possibly excluding Friday.  They have good players like, those guys who pitch, and the one or two good hitters.  The future's so bright, I forgot to wear shades!  I heard it in a song somewhere.  I would like to see them go out and get Jason Heyward.  They got the money, just do it.  Don't think about it.  Just do it.  Just.  Do it.  Do it.  Why not?  Do it.  That's how I feel.
    Anyway, last paragraph.  Also, let's get Charlie Hayes out of retirement.  I don't know why.  Seems like somethin' to consider, though.  Charlie Hayes finished 16th in MVP voting one year.  Talk about a hero.  I couldn't finish in 16th for MVP.  I'd probably barely make it as a Spring Training Invite.  That's where I stand.  Maybe they were just predicting he'd win MVP in 2016.  Now's the time!  Let's make it happen.  Also, what else is going on.  Ken Griffey going into the HOF this year.  Probably my first favorite player.  I was never like, Ken Griffey Jr. Is My Favorite Player!  But, on the video games named after him, on Super Nintendo and later Nintendo 64, he was the guy you wanted to hit as.  I was probably not really a fan of any team until 1996, then I was a Yankee fan probably till 99, since then, a Met fan.  Even as a Yankee fan, I don't really remember liking any of their players.  I think I just liked winning.  I thought winning was great.  In retrospect, I think I kinda liked Paul O' Niell, because he was just an asshole.  Social miscreants are alright in my book.  A kid needs heroes.  I'd like to imagine Joe Torre talking to Paul O'Niell.  Paul, you have to stop breaking bats all over the place!  Think about the message you're sending to your young fans!  And then he's like, The message I'm sending them is to break bats?  And scene.  Brought to you by Super Soakers.  If you get Soaked, don't get mad-- Get Even.  You can only get even with a Super Soaker.  Make the right decision.  Take care dear readers.

-5:44 P.M.                                 


Monday, November 9, 2015

Let's Go Kart

    First things first-- EKGs should be called ECGS.  Cardio begins with a C.  I'm not comfortable with a lab technician, a doctor, who doesn't know how to spell.  Second things second-- Hi!  I finally had an idea for a play.  It's about two guys with breakfast/coffee carts stationed right next to each other.  That's all I got so far.  But I'm happy with the direction I'm going in.  I don't know how you would do that when performing, though.  We don't actually need to ever perform it, but I think it needs to be thought out as an exercise.  Get two food carts up on stage.  That settles that.  Anyway, what's going on in the wide world of Monday.  They gotta not like each other, right?  The Cart people.  There's no play if they're all buddy-buddy.  I was here first!  FUCK YOU!  It practically writes itself.  Ah.  If only it were a two line play.  Potential Class Excursion is Potentially tomorrow night.  Gotta sign up for Spring classes later this week.  That's what I got goin' on.  Someone before class was tellin' me she liked my Homeless People story, and asked how I thought of it.  I, wrongly, started telling her about the idea of Homeless Wife, "where a guy has a homeless wife, and a regular wife."  And she and the few people listening were just plain confused.  Knew I shoulda kept that to myself.  Trust me, your kids are gonna love it.  That's how that goes. 
    Anyway, great, just great.  The good news is Stop Stealing My Customers!  MY CUSTOMERS, FUCK OFF!  Jeez, I'm gonna have a good time writing this.  Yes, indeed.  Ugh.  Is this a rip off of Goodburger?  Damnit.  I have one truly original idea in my lifetime and it turns out to be unoriginal.  Well, I'm committed at this point.  It'll have to do.  I mean, it's a completely different take on the situation.  I think it'll be fine.  If anything, it's good news.  If I'm in a rut, just cannibalize the Good Burger script.  Have Sinbad show up for no apparent reason.  That's the way to go.  But yeah, different setting, different tone, different characters.  I think I'm okay.  As long as I don't call one of the carts Mondoburger.  I'll have to remember that when naming carts.  What else is going on.  You don't wanna get coffee from that cart, come over here.  THAT GUY'S FULL OF SHIT, YOU STAY RIGHT WHERE YOU ARE.  Nah.  Probably gotta keep it just between the two of them.  Customers would just needlessly complicate things.  And possibly they each get progressively lonelier.  And at the end embrace the situation and become friends.  That's one way to go.  Or, have them get progressively angrier at each other, and one of them kills the other at the end.  Possibly in a murder/suicide.  That's the more obvious route to go.
    Man, this is fun.  Up until I actually have to write it.  What else is going on.  I've been a staple of this community for years, you moved in here six months ago.  I'LL STAPLE MY DICK TO YOUR ASS!  THIS NEIGHBORHOOD NEEDS SOME FRESH BLOOD.  No, gettin' further away.  Let's move on.  What if they've known each other since childhood, and have been enemies their entire life.  And the one guy sets up shop there one morning, for the first time, then an hour later, other guy whose been there for years shows up, and they're like, You?  No Fuckin' Way.  It's on.  Also, this might be a rip-off of Arrested Development, when Michael and Job have competing Banana Stands.  Fuck.  Again, different tone... probably?  Different characters.  Different setting.  I think I'm okay.  I guess there are truly no more original ideas anymore.  If a sitcom hasn't done it, a movie spin-off of a sitcom has.  Jeez.  Also, my only other idea was two people get stuck in an elevator together and reminisce about things that happened in previous seasons.  I guess that's no good, either, is it!  Competing Carwashes is a well traveled trope.  Somewhat similar.  I guess I just have to flesh out the plot to make it more unique.  That's well within my skill set probably.
    Anyway, what else.  I came into this entry with such high hopes, and each paragraph I get progressively more deflated.  Oh well, that's life.  I guess how angry at each other they are is the hook.  Just extremely, gutturally, viscerally, fuckin' pissed they are.  That's something I can work with.  Anyway.  I slept for sixteen hours on Sunday.  Probably on account of all the nothing I did the day before.  Really wears ya down.  Anyway, I just pitched my idea to my Mom.  She didn't get it.  Why do I find stupid things funny that nobody else does.  Maybe it's because I just went, "It's two people with food/coffee carts, and they're right next to each other... right... ... and they really hate each other... you know? ... just really heighten it, make it absurd?"  Nobody understands me.  Probably explains why I write an entry every other day and nobody seems to respond.  Oh well.  What else is going on.  Also, it's important to specifically say, "Coffee," carts.  If they're just selling hot dogs, there's no story.  This isn't a story about Hot Dogs.  At its heart, it's a story about people gettin' coffee on the way to work.  I feel very strongly about this.
    What's going on and what crap and what else.  My Mom didn't even know carts sell coffee in the city.  Whatta rube.  Psh.  Nobody cares about hot dogs and pretzels.  People wanna see plays about coffee and croissants.  Also, can't turn it into a Gentrification type story.  That's not what this story is about.  It's about these guys who really, really, fuckin' hate each other, for no apparent reason.  And they have to work next to each other every day and did I mention they hate each other?  Yeesh.  What isn't my Mom getting.  Damn, I just realized, this is essentially a story about my parents.  Jeez.  Oh well, onwards and upwards, I suppose.  Hah.  It's funny, because, in the story, they hate each other equally, but one guy is slightly more civil than the other.  Just slightly, but noticeably.  That's an angle I can either play up or discard.  We got a week to write it, I can think about it some more.  Also, I used the royal We.  I assume because Kansas City won the world series, we all have to use the Royal We for at least a month.  Also, young toddler princes going to the bathroom.  That's roughly half of a joke.  If the Mets won the world series, we'd all have to Meet the Mets.  Every last one of of us.  What else is going on.  Winter Meetings is going on.  That sounds like something you'd do in middle school.  C'mon, you all got each other on speed dial.  Do you really need a Baseball Social to be able to communicate?  Do they have activities?  Like rock climbing?  If there's rock climbing, I'm on board.  Sounds like fun.
    That's how that goes.  What else is going how it goes.  I saw a really good license plate today but I forget it.  Crap.  I really should have memorized how to spell license at this point.  Stupid spell check makin' me lazy.  Anyway.  "License" would be a pretty good vanity license plate.  That's how I feel.  Also, if you're driving a Van, do you get vanity license plates half off?  Seems only logical.  Because I don't know how English works.  "Alderson to have procedure, miss G.M. meetings."  C'mon, Sandy.  You can have a procedure any time.  I think he's just worried about getting bullied.  What, with a name like Sandy, how could he not.  Havin' a procedure.  Not buyin' it.  Just like all those contracts Sandy won't be doing at Winter Meetings.  Huh?  Wha?  I told you I don't know English.  Try to keep up.  Also, we're decidedly still in Fall territory.  Someone fucked up naming these meetings.  My guess?  Don't have one.  Thanks for asking, though!  It's an honor just to be considered.  What else is going on.  I was kinda off-kilter in participation today.  I participated as much as usual, but the participating was kinda not great.  I blame whoever called Fall Meetings Winter Meetings.  Fucked my whole day up.
    Anyway, last paragraph.  What else is going on and crap.  With Bob and David coming out this week.  This is pretty much the culmination of my Comedy Fanship.  Two sketches were available on youtube.  One of them was, it was pretty good, and by the end I was laughing pretty considerably.  The other one was pretty much classic.  So an amalgamation of those two reactions is pretty much what I'm expecting.  Anyway, great.  My parents can get YouTube on their T.V.  I was thinkin' about listening to one of my songs, but I'm pretty much certain the reaction will be, Fuck, This Is What I'm Putting Out There?  So I have no urgent desire to do that.  What else is going on.  Half a paragraph to go.  That's fun.  I got a mere eight hours of sleep last night.  I guess.  What else is going on.  Also, what's the etiquette on using stall vs. toilet when you just need to piss, but another guy just walked in and is using the stall.  I mean, it's well within your rights to Stall it up.  But maybe it's the Gentleman's Route to use a toilet, to create as much space between the two of you as possible.  I will be accepting your answers my e-mail.  My e-mail is something.  I forget.  I will not be accepting your answers.  Also, I use the bathroom pretty quickly, and sometimes I wonder if, when I take a bathroom break in class, if the teacher is like, no way that guy washed his hands.  But I did!  I'm just really fast.  Anyway, see ya later.

-5:54 P.M.                                     


Saturday, November 7, 2015

Is Mediocre a Genre?

    I sure hope so.  What's going on party people.  Also, duing the Iraq War, shouldn't we really have called "genres," "freedom categories?"  Someone dropped the ball on that one.  I make that joke every time a French word adopted by English comes up.  Because I find it amusing you dolts.  What's going on in the wide world of sports.  I don't get how Daniel Murphy is worth more than fifteen million dollars for a year.  A team of 12 Daniel Murphys would cost, let's see.  Lemme hit you with some Math, here it comes.  You ready?  About to get Mathified.  Ten Daniel Murphys would be 150 Million.  2 would be 30.  180 Million dollar payroll for 12 Daniel Murphies.  And that's a team that's goin' nowhere.  They will hit roughly 200 homeruns if they make it to the post season, though.  So they got that going for them.  It's Moneyball, you dolts.  I was listening to some alt-rock from the late 80s/early 90s radio on Spotify.  Wait, music can be depressing?  I had no idea.  Too bad, too, because they're good songs.  Just leave ya feeling empty.  You have no idea how much Ritalin it took to get me back on track emotionally.  One.  I guess you could have formulated that idea.  You're a clever guy.  I like those little bubbles they ride around in Jurassic World.  Probably the best part of the movie, when it comes down to it.  I don't remember much else.  Except that it followed pretty much the same plot as the first one.  But worse.  There's no scenes of Jeff Goldblum talking to himself and going, Me talking to myself, that's, that's chaos theory."  Not even one.  I counted.  I do wanna ride around in a Bubble, though.  They got me hooked on that.
    Do Bubbles run on electric energy?  Seems like that's the future.  Let's ask Jake Gyllenhaal.  Or John Travolta. They're the experts on bubbles.  That's how I feel about things.  What else is going on.  I took a walk today.  Whatta hero.  To get alcohol.  Whatta chump.  If I had a Bubble Car, I don't think I'd ever leave it.  That's how I feel.  Oh well, what dreams may come.  What else is going on.  Looking like Potential Class Excursion will take place on Tuesday.  And, if not, well, there goes that.  I tried writing a song for the first time in a while.  I got as far as having three or four terrible guitar tracks and then gave up.  That's interesting and crap.  One thing's for sure.  The Liquor Store pretty much knows for sure I'm an alcoholic.  If they haven't picked up on it before.  They offer no counseling or guidance, though.  And I thought we were crew.  Nope.  Oh well, they're doing God's work.  What else is going on.  I can't get that crappy guitar lick out of my head.  What nonsense.  I was listening to some of my songs from last year.  Getta load of all these words!, I thought.  Jeez.  Maybe I can turn the crappy guitar lick into a crappy melody.  A singing melody.  Now all I need are words and better chords.  Also, a better melody couldn't hurt.
    Right, right.  What else.  Forget the dinosaurs, just make Jurassic World exclusively a place to ride in Bubbles.  That's the real attraction.  I wonder how the park designers of Jurassic World came up with Bubbles.  Hey, we gotta keep the visitors safe.  What's safer than a bubble?  I don't know, not going there?  That'll show them for being a fictional theme park.  I gotta stop biting my nails.  Three infections in three years.  Does consistency count for nothing?  Probably not, no.  That's a triple negative.  Never seen so much negative.  I don't get the addition rules, even + even is even, odd + odd is even, even + odd is odd.  That can't be right.  That would make two thirds of numbers even.  I did the math.  Something's up.  Yep.  What else is going on.  This has been the worst entry in a Dog's Age.  Which, is, I don't know, fourteen, fifteen?  Sounds about right.  Because of the potential of poo, I feel odd instincts to look at a dog's asshole while a guy is walking his dog.  I mean, not just walking the dog.  Then, poo is not imminent.  When they're just standing there, countin' down the seconds.  Don't judge me.  If I feel like looking at dog's assholes, then looking at dog's assholes is what I'm gonna do.  Let's be clear, I'm not staring.  I just give it a quick glance, think to myself, I'm a weirdo, then go on my day.  Of course, I spend the rest of the day wondering, I wonder how long it took from me looking until the dog actually pooed.  Damnit I should have stayed till its completion! 
    Right, right.  Everyone's on board with that, right?  I guess.  I mean, now that I think about it, seeing a dog shit is pretty much on the bottom of my to-do list.  I unequivocally do not want to see it.  What else is going on.  I hate forgetting whether I poured alcohol into my soda.  I don't wanna double dose it.  But I also don't wanna drink plain soda, like a chump.  These are the real issues.  Well, whatever.  I have one and a half weeks to write a play.  I ain't even started yet.  I do like the idea of having two lonely people.  Having them trade stage time, that's stupid.  But let's just have people getting progressively lonelier.  And it's funny, because they're sad.  Feel like there could be something there.  I need to have one Impossible Thing in the play, though.  What could that be for a Lonely People plot.  These are questions I should be thinking to myself over time and not wasting your precious time with.  Also, I can break the fourth wall.  People love that.  I should just hand in a segment of Hamlet.  And the teacher would go, This is Hamlet.  And I would go, Or is it?  Talk about a bullshit.  Hamlet.  Piglet.  Ham is pig.  Cracked that code.  What about a couple of code crackers whose lives get turned upside down when it turns out they have Benjamin Button disease.  Yeesh.  I really need to get thinkin'.  The only reason I had the short story done on time was because I thought it was due a week earlier.
    This entry may not have the jokkez, but it does shed some light on me.  Mostly because of the dog... shit.  I've done a real 540.  Now even saying Dog's Asshole makes me cringe.  You had to be there, I guess.  Hey, there's a new Evil Dead tonight.  It's been a while since I've been keepin' up with a scripted show that's not late night talk show.  Gettin' On is starting a new season.  I like that show.  It's a hard show to be passionate about, though.  It just, well, it's mediocre.  But good mediocre.  Apparently they're doing a Cricket match at Citifield.  They were inspired by the sounds of the stadium in previous lackluster seasons!  Jokkez!  Too bad the Mets are good now.  Took a little oomph out of the jokke.  Also, when you play MASH, Shack is the worst possibility of where you can live.  What's so bad about living in a shack.  I wanna live in a shack.  Sounds peaceful.  Then again, Apartment sounds pretty nice too.  Can't go wrong with a House, either.  And Mansions, that's the classic choice, argue with that.  The point is "H" should be for Homeless.  Let's raise the stakes a bit, right?  Right?  Maybe not.  Also, we would play that constantly in Chorus in seventh grade.  Seems kind of weird.  Should be a one-and-done thing.  Look the first time we did it I found out I live in a Shack with Jennifer Love Hewitt.  It's already set in stone, what possible use could crunching the numbers again have?  Also, people in clear shacks shouldn't throw stones.  Can't afford 'em.  Right? 
    Right, right.  Anyway.  Hey, I told a joke the last paragraph.  I told a joke!  Never woulda guessed.  That's how I feel.  Also, why was Rock music in the 60's obsessed with Rolling Stones.  The band, the Bob Dylan song, the magazine.  Are they all really that much anti-moss?  I demand explanations and such.  Anyway, great.  I gotta say, in the last world series game, I forget at what stage exactly, it might have been late into the game with the Mets still winning, but I think it was in an extra inning when it was still tied, and Murphy came up, and they played The Dropkick Murphy's... it hit me like when a wrestler's music plays unanticipated.  99.9% of the time the guy's music while he comes up is, ok, great, it means they're up.  But when that song came up, World Series, late in the game, I was like, YEAH!  So, that's my case for keeping Murphy.  Also, I don't know if we should keep Murphy.  Luckily that's not my decision.  Sure would make sense to sign with the Red Sox, though.  Can't really play Shipping Up to Boston, then, now that I think about it.  He'd already be there.  Nobody wants that nonsense.  Also, can we Little Big League the manager situation?  Let's get a teen or preteen savant to handle that job.  These kids, they've got Moneyball in their blood, coursing through their veins.  That's how I feel.      
    Okay, I guess.  What else.  And his team would respect him more.  That's just math.  I was thinking, I think Queens College has a Phys Ed course of beginning baseball.  And I was thinking about taking it, should it actually exist, reasoning, I'd be way better than I was at Little League.  Then I realized, So would everyone else.  So there goes that idea.  Unless a Little League for ten year olds lets me join the team.  Then I'd wreak havoc all over the diamond.  And, honestly, that sounds like a load of fun.  Anyway, what else.  Anyway, what else.  Turns out the Baseball class is Varsity Baseball.  I'm not 100% sure on what Varsity means.  I think it's like a step below your top team, but still, people who take it seriously.  I could be wrong.  Either way, even being a step below, too good for me.  Also, why is there no Beginner's Kickball.  I demand answers.  Also, turns out I was wrong.  Varsity are the straight up for real team.  What's the word I'm thinking of.  Oh, right.  Beginner.  Well, as they say, every team needs a Rudy.  No one says that.  What else is going on.  Seventh paragraph and shit.  How grand.  What else and crap.  Windin' down here at the crazysheet.  A paragraph and change to go, I'd say.  I need to learn how to play guitar.  I wrote 120 or something new songs over the past year, and I don't think I remember how to play one.  Which is pretty notable, because they all sound the same.  Well, crack one, then I got 'em all, that's the advantage to that.  I guess that's why bands rehearse and do gigs.  I can't rehearse by myself, though,  I can be creating an entirely new song out of the rotting carcass of this old one.  You know, new words and shit? 
    What else and crap.  Last paragraph.  Nice breeze goin' on outside.  I can tell through the power of having an open window.  That's how that goes.  Gonna watch me some Evil Dead tonight, doo-dah, doo-dah.  If it weren't for the doo-dahs you would have no idea of the melody.  You still might not.  Can't rule out anything at this point.  Well, whatever.  I should pull a Math and figure out what percentage of entries are transitional phrases.  Gotta be a pretty significant portion.  It's important, though.  You can't just keep going from one thought to another, wily-nily.  Take a breather, let me guide you through this.  That's how I feel.  Also, I'm counting bullshit like, "That's how I feel," as a transitional phrase.  That's where all the bulk comes from.  Right, anyway.  What else is going on.  What if that breeze is an Evil Dead trying to come through my window.  Think, Mike, think, how do you deal with an Evil Dead.  C'mon.  I guess I've learned nothing from this show.  Oh, right.  You gotta read from the Necronomicon.  I don't have one of those.  Shit, I'm fucked.  Oh well, live and learn.  What else is going on.  Actually, I have a DVD box set of the Evil Dead movies, and the case is shaped like a plastic Book of the Dead.  Maybe having that would be enough?  Well, I guess we'll find out.  It certainly has me more prepared than most people.  I'm practically there, just no words in the freakin' thing.  Just full of two to four DVDs.  I guess I could write my own, ala the Ghoostbumps moie.  Anyway, jeez.  See ya later.

-6:49 P.M.                   


Friday, November 6, 2015

Hey, It's Me

    I wouldn't lie to you.  At least not in Titles.  Titles, we here at crazysheet, hold sacred.  What's going on and crap.  I have to leave my T.V. on all the time.  If I turn it off, when I turn it back on, the picture is all fucked up for five to fifteen minutes.  Only solution is 25 hour T.V.  Which is just tuned to whatever channel is showing The 25th Hour at all times.  I'm sick of turning on the On Demand and being harassed about ordering a Pay-Per-View movie.  I know my options.  Now you're just being a jerk.  Stupid T.V., always being a jerk.  Also, I don't know why I ever turn off Closed Captions.  I'm constantly having to turn it back on.  Why did I turn it off in the first place?  I like to read, and I like to watch T.V.  This is the only way I can satiate both desires.  Other than getting an iPad, like a sucker.  iPads-- Where Books Become T.V.!  T.V.-- Where Books Become Interesting!  Anyway, that's my Television bit.  E-mail me your thoughts and critiques.  I depend on Feedback to become better.  We're all in this together and so on and whatfuck.  What else is going on.  It's pretty much the end of the week.  I've done all the calculations.  The weekend is .286 of the week.  I keep telling you, I'm a Math.  It's too bad Walter White wasn't a Math teacher.  He would only have to change one letter.  Talk about convenience.  Except his extensive knowledge of calculus and geometry wouldn't really help him making Meth.  Oh well, you win some, you lose some.
    Microsoft Frontpage doesn't recognize Meth as a word.  I guess a lot has changed over the last decade.5.  For a lot of people, Meth is the only word.  Let's talk about it.  One thing's for sure-- everyone on Meth has family and/or friends that love them like crazy.  That's a given.  And they love Meth like crazy.  What's the problem.  Seems like his friends and family should love Meth by extension.  It's algebra or theorems or something.  Whatta Math.  I remember there's certain Math that involves using Graphic Calculators.  That being calculators with porn on them.  But, yeah, Graphing Calculators.  And the way some people would cheat on those tests is, loading the answers for the test into the graphing calculations, handin' that off to someone taking the test in the next period.  I wanna say it's very possible I cheated that way, it kind of rings a bell.  But being in the social circle required for cheating, that doesn't sound right.  Oh well, that's past now.  I loved calculators like Crazy, but was it reciprocated?  Probably not.  Calculators aren't sentient beings yet.
    Not to my knowledge.  T.V., calculators.  Covered all the relevant issues of the day.  Now, let's get into some real bullshit.  What else is going on.  I feel like I've used this title before.  Oh well, if anything, at least I'm consistent.  I think if technology ever becomes sentient, hopefully their primary objective is helping teenagers cheat on tests.  No reason why it wouldn't be.  Gotta please your target demographic.  Matrix.  That's what the Graphing Calculator did.  What's a Matrix?  I don't know anymore.  The Calculator did all the work.  I gotta say, calculators are pretty smart.  They can figure out any math problem relatively quickly.  Very impressive.  It's Friday the 13th next week.  Which is bad for some reason.  I get 13, that's a classic bad number throughout history.  What's wrong with Friday, though?  Friday never did anything to hurt anybody.  In fact, go ahead, poll people.  Friday's gotta be the top day.  At least in the top two.  Unless Sunday draws the church going crowd, and Saturday wins the favor of those who just love the weekend.  I feel like the Sunday demographic could split the Friday/Saturday demographic.  I really feel like Friday should be up there, though.  That's how I feel.  Especially for school, or work.  I mean, sure, you have school or work that day.  But you get the intense gratification of being done with that for the weekend.  Your whole life is ahead of you, weekly speaking. 
    That's how I feel.  Anyway, what else.  I like how crazygood a half day is when you're in school.  WHAT THE FUCK?  I GET AN EXTRA FOUR HOURS?!  THIS IS THE BEST THING EVER!  And, usually, the teachers have a full day.  We can't dismiss that as part of the joy for the students.  Teachers, their natural enemy, have to suffer.  That's how I feel.  I wish I was still on track for becoming a teacher just for the Parent/Teacher Conferences.  You're kid's a moron, now I can see where he gets it from.  Get out of my classroom you waste of space.  Lots of fun you can have abusing your power as a teacher.  Why, I just saw an article about a former teacher at Stuy who was a drug dealer or something.  I don't have the details. When I say I 'saw an article,' I mean I read the headline.  Pretty sure that's replaced actually reading the article for the majority of us idiots.  Anyway, I kinda recognized the name, not really.  When I read it, I was like, maybe I remember that guy, maybe I don't.  And nowhere in the article did they clarify whether I remembered him or not.  Well, probably not.  I didn't read it, try to keep up.  Apparently he was a Musical Appreciation Teacher.  I knew those guys were up to no good in Stuy.  The one thing I remember from the class was one song, I forget which, but I'd recognize if I heard it, and the way the teacher taught us to remember who wrote it was, singing to the tune, I'm not Bach, I'm not Brahms,  I AM MOZART!  Mozart wrote it.  Got that burned into the back of my skull.                
    Great.  Apparently Mozart was all about staking out his own territory and distinguishing himself from the earliers.  Sounds like an asshole to me.  That's how I feel.  What else is going on.  Friday never did nothin' to nobody.  Not fair.  Lemme hit you with some math.  Each month, there's a 1/7 chance there's a Friday the 13th.  Times that by twelve, you get 12/7ths Friday the 13ths each year.  A little less than one and a half.  That's pretty shady.  12/7ths?  I don't trust that number.  That's how I feel.  What else is going on.  How does leap day affect this?  It doesn't you dolts.  That's how I feel.  Now, the question is, what's the most Friday the 13ths can there be in one year?  I feel like three is possible.  Four, I don't know.  Three, that probably could happen.  Will I do the math to figure it out?  Nope.  My main memory of Biology is going through Bird Shit and picking out Rat Skulls.  Maybe it was Squirrel Shit.  Some sort of shit.  That's somethin' that'll aid ya later on in life.  Sifting through the shit for rodent skulls.  Valuable life lessons.
    Anyway, great.  Also, I failed Chemistry because I didn't hand in the Labs in time.  It's not my fault, the person I was gonna copy the Labs from kept postponing it!  Yeesh.  What else is going on.  I feel like I redeemed myself to the Chemistry Teacher, though.  I retook the class in the summer and aced it with an 85% average.  Great.  What else is going on.  I was too busy listening to Led Zeppelin when I was supposed to be doing Labs.  And I didn't even have a partner half the time on account of me not wanting to talk to anybody.  I can't do that crap on my own.  The point is this is relevant stuff.  What else is going on.  I can't understand how I go through cartons of Camels quicker than Newports.  I feel like I smoke them pretty much 50/50.  The evidence proves otherwise, though.  I should come up with a Lab to test out Hypothesis and crap.  Also, I don't like how Hypothesis is a key part of the scientific method.  I don't have any idea, I don't know.  Who cares what I think.  Anyway, what else.  The good news is it's topical because it happened over a decade ago.  While I was learning science, my current school social counterparts were learning writing in script and multiplication.  Not so far off, when I stop to think about it.  Anyway, see ya later.

-6:59 P.M.                


Wednesday, November 4, 2015

Over The Titles And Far Away

    Hey.  It's the guy whose me.  Five months ago was our Independence Day.  Why isn't there a word for 'Five Months.'  I bet the Inuits would have a word for it.  You don't wanna be one upped by Inuit people, do ya?  Let's get some wordologists workin' on it.  Turns out I had class today.  Alls well that ends well.  Wait a minute... five months... lemme think about this.  Five months ago would have been June.  And Independence Day is in July.  Something's not right here.  Lemme think about it.  Hmm.  I conclude Independence Day was one clean third of a year ago.  That's my final answer.  I don't like it when Regis goes, "Is that your final answer?"  Yeah, I said it didn't I?  I would bet good money that not once in the history of the show has some guy gone, "Wait, no!  I changed my mind!  Please, don't let it be too late!!!"  Also, can people combine their 50/50 and Ask The Audience to ask 50% of the audience?  Seems like it should be allowed.  There's no rule that says it isn't.  Also, Who Wants To Be a Millionaire?  I'm not a fan of rhetorical questions in general, let alone in a title.  I guess billionaires probably don't want to be millionaires, so there is some grounds for it being a real question.  My Dad knew a guy who was on an episode of Greed that never aired.  Oh well, live and learn.  Also, Star Wars.  I'm under the impression that Greed shot first.  It's a metaphor for something.  I don't know what yet.  I imagine it'll be clarified in the upcoming major motion picture. 
    I gave a guy a cigarette because I'm a hero.  I find that 50% of the time someone wants a cigarette, they already have a lighter.  Seems kinda fishy to me.  Either they just carry lighters with them for no apparent use, or they have their own cigarettes, and just want one of mine.  That's probably the deal here.  Dang pedestrians taking advantage of my kindness and generosity.  Gotta come up with some better ways to play out the asking-of-a-cigarette situation.  Do I Look Like I'm Made Of Cigarettes!? is one possibility.  Look, If I Give A Man A Cigarette, He'll Smoke For Just One Day.  If I Teach A Man To Cigarette, I... Well, The Point Is, Fuck Off.  Or, just say Sure! and then walk away.   Gotta put these into practice to figure out which one is the most effective.  Of course, I can still give them cigarettes, and just say I should tell you upfront-- this is bad for your health.  Anyway, what else is giggity going on.  Can the Mets trade Matt Harvey and Steven Matz, and Juan Lagares for Mike Trout.  Let's get some real Fantasy Baseball Trades going this off-season.  Sandy Alderson had a bit of a fall today while talking to reporters.  Now, I wasn't there, so this is pure speculation, but... do you think it's possible Chase Utley slid into him behind the podium?  That guy's out of control.  Slidin' into people all over the place.
    Anyway.  Wrote a decent three page dialogue today and read it to the class.  I'm all about decency.  It's a step above adequacy, which I'm also all about.  And two steps from mediocrity, which, in a pinch'll do.  Also, what else.  I don't like it when there's two busses coming, one after the other, and you have to decide whether to take the more crowded first one or let it go for the second one.  I mean, obviously, the second one is better. But it feels like cheating.  I belong on the first one.  I don't wanna Moneyball the situation and wait for the next bus.  Plus, the bus driver of the first one is gonna be like, what, you too good for us?  I don't think I'm better than anybody.  I'll get on the first bus.  Also, today, I got on the second bus.  It was great.  Got a seat and everything you want to get on a bus.  Basically the seat.  Aisle seat!  That's no good, though.  I want a window seat.  I like to see the scenery I've seen two hundred times.  Fascinating.  So, that pizza place is still there.  Good for them.  You know, that sort of thing.  I hate seeing the Next Bus Please busses.  Look, you're a bus.  You're driving this way.  Lemme get on you.  What's wrong with that logic.  Bus driver just taking a joyride in the middle of the afternoon commute.  I want to talk to his supervisor.  And be like, how'd you get to be supervisor?  You musta been a pretty good bus driver.  I assume they promote from within their ranks.  Gives bus drivers something to strive for.
    Also, let's see more of busses crashing into Uber cars.  They'll get the message.  What else is going on.  Looks like I'll be going on Potential Class Excursion on Sunday.  Sunday?  I love that day!  Or Tuesday.  Tuesday?  I love that day.  And if you combine then, they're a solid .286 of the week.  I like those odds.  I like those odds.  I know math because of baseball.  I saw a commercial where they're trying to get kids into baseball cards again.  Good luck with that.  That'll never happen.  Unless if they're glow in the dark.  Then you can look at your baseball cards with the lights off.  Then, fine, you got a decent business model.  The calorie count of Kit-Kats is misleading, because one Kit-Kat is really two Kit-Kats.  These are the real issues.  I like the Hershey Kisses business model.  It takes the exact amount of time to unwrap one as it does to eat one.  Eat one, unwrap, just in time to eat it again.  Musta taken some real good scientists for that formula.  Also, Pistachio Ice Cream?  You don't belong in the Big Three.  Gotta be a better option out there.  Is Yellow a flavor?  Let's do some Yellow. 
    Anyway, great, just great.  I hope I get an ice cream cake for my birthday.  Because I'm nine.  Well, turning ten!  I'm a big kid now.  What else is going on.  Crap and shit, one would assume.  My family has a real big deep rooted problem of, when interacting with each other, we go, "I assume you meant this," or, "I assume you wanted this," and so on.  That's not assuming.  If you were assuming, you wouldn't ask.  You'd just assume.  I'm gonna take my family to Vocabulary Court.  And I'd lose, because I'm just as guilty as them.  We need help.  Iyanla, Fix My Family.  Anyway.  Maybe we need an intervention.  Look, these guys love you like crazy, but you've got to start using words correctly.  I don't know who the 'these guys' is in that scenario.  I don't know lots of things.  Get off my back.  What else is going on.  Also, can we get Hoarding to be a slang use describing people saving up a bunch of shows on their DVR?  Seems logical.  Yeesh.  What else.  Wait, is it five months?  Lemme think about it.  No... no.  Still four months.  Otherwise known as a season and a third.  In a hundred years, we're not gonna have any use for the four seasons.  The Earth will be a semi-apocolyptic Hell Hole.  Spring and Summer and Fall and Winter will mean nothing.  The only lasting impression will be Vivaldi and Frankie Valli.  And that restaurant that exists somewhere.  Possibly a hotel.  Also, the seasons.  Anyway, what else.  I registered for the wrong Play Money Pokerstars Sit & Go.  Where is justice.
    What else is going on.  This is taking two and a half times longer than the other tournament.  I don't have the patience for this.  The good news is it's Fall.  Look at all those leaves!  I've never seen this many leaves.  Fall is half over.  I know because of math.  I like the term Mathlete.  Now nerds can go, I'm just like an athlete!  No... No.  Not really.  The good news is I'm a websitetrepreneur.  And you can take that to the bank.  Don't know what they'd do with it, though.  They primarily deal with different matters.  The good news is I got several laughs today due to my decency at dialoging.  Talk about a hero.  The bad news is I have only two weeks to write a ten minute play.  I have no ideas.  Except, I guess I can expand on the bullshit I wrote in crap today.  Full disclosure-- It's about Asian people.  It's not important they're Asian, but, with my extensive experience being immersed in the Asian-American culture, I do have a unique understanding of the way they talk and feel.  And these guys are definitely Asian teenagers.  I guess I can drop the stupid plot I had and just make it about Asians Asianing it up.  Gotta write about what you know, right.  My neighbors are Asian.  I've learned a lot from them.  Like, they don't play Dance Dance Revolution at top volume every night at eight.  They don't do that.  Well, if I spend enough time figuring out what they don't do, I'll eventually find out what they do do.  Ha, doodoo.  Poop.  I did get to use the word, "Poo," in my dialogue.  It was integral to the plot, particularly the ending. 
That's how I feel.  Poo is a funny word.  No gettin' around it.  Gotta say, I think the Ritalin is helping me.  I feel like I should be taking it thrice a day, though.  That would really hit the spot.  I'd not be crashin' in the late evening like I been doin'.  Also, my first roommate in college listened to Thrice.  Drop D Tuning?  What are we, Animals?  That's how I felt.  I'm really bad at tuning guitars.  I don't know why.  I try tuning it to the last string, I try tuning it by online guitar tuners.  Can't seem to get it right.  I guess I'm just not cut out to be a musician.  Tuning, that's literally the first thing you learn.  Well, whatever.  That's what gives my music it's edge.  This ain't even tuned right!  Sounds original!  Is a thought nobody has.  It turns out I won the Sit & Go I didn't mean to register for.  That'll show me.  I have no idea why I constantly want to play at a higher stake than I really should be, considering how much play money I have.  It's play money.  It makes absolutely no difference.  Oh well.  I think I subconsciously reason that, the higher the play money stakes, the better the opponents, the more fun it'll be.  It's not so much a subconscious thuoght as it is a conscious thought that I don't really care about.
    It's not so much the end of the last paragraph as it is the start of a new paragraph.  That's how that goes.  I've made some good social acquaintances in this class.  People seem to get my deal.  Can't rule out becoming friends with the teacher, either.  We're practically peers, when it comes down to it.  He teaches a class, I learn in the class.  Cut from the same cloth.  Which I believe is a Biblical Reference.  King David cut some cloth in half when two families were laying claim to it.  Seems pretty practical and straightforward, I gotta say.  Also, I know Joseph had some sort of special jacket.  I wanna say a North Face.  Anyway, what else.  Also, I recently asked my Dad which tribe of Israel are we from.  I think there's twelve or thirteen of them, and apparently there's one that was pretty much the ruling class, in times past, there was one that was pretty much the priestly class, and then everyone else got mixed together.  We're one of the unimportant tribes, don't know which one.  Whatta let down.  Anyway, what else.  I like how there's a trend in beverages where each bottle or can you get has a specific logo or message or something.  Great.  Makes me feel real special.  Wonderful, it is.
    Right, right.  Goin' for the Daily Double.  Twice as long as the normal entry.  What I lack in quality I make up for in quantity.  Anyway, what else.  Except for physically.  What I lack in quantity, I make up for with... personality?  Wait, no, that can't be right.  Oh, I know.  I don't make up for it.  Oh well, live and learn.  I don't really think about being short that much anymore, but every now and then, I'm like, Man, I'm way away from the ceiling.  That's pretty much how that manifests itself these days.  Anyway.  Still lookin' for someone I can hire to fit in my clothes and I'll stand on their shoulders at all times.  If you know anyone qualified, let me know.  Also, I'm always the last to know if it's raining.  Someone complaining about the rain, and I'm like, Is it rai-- oh, now I feel it.  That's how that goes.  One of my only play ideas is the title It's Raining Shit.  Now I only need to write a play where the title It's Raining Shit is appropriate.  One thing we learned about plays is, apparently, there needs to be one Impossible thing in each play.  Like, something that couldn't happen in real life.  I don't like that rule.  It made me think of the most boring generic things.  Oh, zombies invade.  Oh, vampires.  Oh, guy ages backwards.  It's all been done.  Except for a play about it's raining shit.  Which, even that, has sorta been done before.  In the movie Kingpin, Woody Harrelson tells Randy Quaid a Cloud of... (then he says Shit, in response to something else), and Randy Quaid is like, Look out everybody, a shit cloud is coming!  I think I can smell it!
Gotta do something.  That's how I feel.  Jeez.  Luckily I didn't forget to do homework for today's class.  That brings the streak of not forgetting homework for class up to One.  Sure, I didn't do the reading.  I usually do that before class, cause I'm usually there early.  Today, I was only on time.  had to read it as we went over it.  Anyway, who cares.  That's how I feel.  Stupid Ohio voting against legalized marijuana.  You're ruining it for the rest of us.  We need a big streak of marijuana legalization for it to get to our state-- New York.  It's only a matter of time, but you're making the time last longer!  I hate it when that happens!  Anyway, what else.  I like coming home from class, because it usually means I haven't drank at all that day.  Then I can condense my drinking into fewer hours.  Talk about a hero.  Also, I even gave the dialogue characters Asian names-- Kevin and Jeff.  I feel like I've known a bunch of Asians named Kevin and Jeff in my time.  There was an Asian Mom talking to her Asian Kid in Asian on the bus today.  How rude.  I wanna know what's going on!  You're excluding me from your private conversation, you Jerks!  Also, can we all agree that sitting on the right of the bus is better than sitting on the left?  Although, sitting on the right is second to sitting sideways.  That's obviously the best sitting situation when you get down to brass tacks.  Anyway, that's about all I got.  See ya later.

-6:10 P.M.                 


Tuesday, November 3, 2015

In Space, No One Can Hear Trees Fall Down

    It's a brainbuster you dolts.  I was watching a documentary last night and it turns out there's a theme park on an island somewhere where dinosaurs come alive.  I don't have all the details.  Except that some dinosaurs can open doors.  And some dinosaurs can enter buildings that are smaller than them themselves without breaking into the building.  They just manifest inside the building somehow.  Those dinosaurs are hero dinosaurs.  Always to be trusted to be Man's Best Friend.  I know dogs are Man's Best Friend, but shouldn't it really be monkeys?  For more information, rent Dunston Checks In at your local video store.  Also, I don't like how velociraptor can open doors.  I can barely open doors.  I guess Jurassic Park just needs to have a major overhaul of their safety technology-- installing locks to the doors.  I know it may cost tens of dollars, but if it means keeping people like Newman safe from danger, then I would argue it's worth it.  Too bad there wasn't a tie-in with Seinfeld where he does a voice over for a Jerry-Seinfeldsourus.  Not sure what that means, or accomplishes.  The good news is we will never have to read it again. What's The Deal with Newman?  He's Up To Some Sinister Stuff In This Storyline.  That's kind of a bullshit plot point, though.  They literally have one guy in charge of all the technology.  Just him.  I think they justify it by saying he's like the smartest guy that no one can hack or anything.  Look, you're on an island with dinosaurs.  They're not gonna crack any computer codes any time soon.  Also, Sam Niell is tellin' the kids, don't move, he can't see us if we don't move. Uh, literally fifteen seconds ago, the dinosaur ate the lawyer sitting in the outhouse toilet.  He wasn't moving anything, except for maybe his bowels.  But the T.Rex can't see that.  So, either Sam Niell is a liar and full of shit, or that lawyer was really shitting up something awful.  Either way, shit was involved.  And I'm gonna err on the side of Sam Niell being a liar.  I suspect he didn't mean one word he said the entire documentary.  It's almost like it was all written for him and he was just like, okay, I'll say this crap.
Anyway.  Rare nighttime entry.  Because I feel like doing crap and shit.  Also, why did Newman have to meet the guys he was sellin' secrets to somewhere deep inside Jurassic Park.  Seems like that's the last place the rival company would want to be spotted.  Just take the shaving cream can of dino DNA and bring it to their headquarters.  I'm sure there's less dilapitdasuarus there.  I don't know how to spell that word, but it's okay, because it's not a real word.  They made that dinosaur up for the movie.  Which totally took me out of it.  They literally just came up with a dinosaur foil to give Newman his comeuppance.  I like the part where the one guy calls that other guy on the phone, after the power starts working again, and he's like, "I'm just calling you to tell you that the phones are working.  Bye *69 for some real fun xoxo."  Part of my address is 69th ave, and I feel like a perv every time I place a delivery.  It's just part of my address!  I didn't make it up!  Being on Blowjob Lane, yes, that could have been avoided.  In hindsight, I would have looked at different real estate options.  But Blowjob Lane has a very good school district.  You wouldn't want to take good education away from kids, would ya.  Would ya?  I like how poeple say, iinvest in land/real estate, God isn't making any more of it.  Hey, have you heard of a little thing called Mars?  Stupid.  I don't get people talking about life on Mars.  We've been on the moon for closing in on fifty years.  Let's get some life up there, first.  I know there's no frozen water, but let's just get Monster Energy Drink to sponsor it or something.  Hell, we can create entire rivers of Monster Energy Drink.  There's no rules in space.
    That's how I feel about that.  Feel about what?  I forgot.  Consult the end of the last paragraph for more information.  Why does the Career Web Site Monster have it's own energy drink.  Some questions are better left unanswered.  Not that one, though.  That one, I want an answer.  My toe is still healed.  I ought to create some sort of sign that says how many days I've gone without an infection.  This point?  Two days and counting.  It's a good thing I don't have any infections in my fingers, that would interfere with my counting abilities.  I still remember the time when I was a kid, and my Mom tucked me in, said goodnight, and was about to turn off the lights and said, "There's a monkey in the attic."  It's relevant because who cares.  Pretty sure that's the anti-Semitic version of Fiddler On the Roof.  Either that, or There's a Yid Up There!  I can say that, I'm pretty much Jewish more or less.  And I have extensive knowledge of roofs.  My brother did Fiddler On The Roof in fifth grade.  He was the butcher.  Man, I was I jealous.  Was I?  I forget.  Most likely No.  Wait, maybe his fifth grade play was based on Jack & The Beanstalk. I know he did both.  Also, I'm doing an autobiography of my brother, the first edition being his elementary school years.  It's really a fascinating story.  He used to play Sega Genesis.  Oop, I don't wanna give too much away.  Already said too much.  Anyway, moving on.
    Alright, what else.  I have class tomorrow.  If history is any guide, I'm gonna Participate The Fuck Out Of That Shit.  I gotta learn to spread the participation love around.  Raise my hand, then when I'm called on, throw it over to another classmate.  I wanna hear what Rick has to say.  I would guess Suzie has some thoughts on this matter.  Viscera's mind looks so full, it's ready to pop.  Also the wrestler Viscera from over a decade ago is in my Creative Writing class.  I can't believe it hasn't come up before.  Apparently one of the classes I'm looking at for next semester is being taught by a bonfired re-nouned Arthur.  That would look good on my resume.  At the very least, certainly distract from the plethora of potentially misspelled words.  Yeah.  What else is going on.  I've done the sabermetrics on it, and this'll be the third consecutive day of entry to open up the November.  I've done the sabermetrics on it, and the Mets should trade Matt Harvey for The Chicago White Sox.  Sounds pretty much fair.  Then he can start every day, without any pesky defense behind him, muckin' things up.  Sure, he'd have to rely on the kindness of umpires to throw the ball back to him.  I guess after each pitch he can walk to home plate and retrieve the ball himself.  What's to stop the ball from hitting the umpire though, when it's pitched?  Gotta hit something.  But, if you're only going to have one infielder, having a pitcher is the way to go.  Equidistant from each base.  Probably.  I don't know exact infield dimensions.  What am I, a Baseball Wizard? 
    What is this, the fifth paragraph?  It's a warm November night, it is.  This entry has been brought to you by Monster Dot Com.  Monster Dot Com-- "Don't End Up Like This Guy."  Anyway, what... wait, what?  I take offense to that!  Hey.  What else is going on.  Where does this jerk get off from fiddling on roofs.  Sounds like a real pervert to me.  It's like how George McFly says he's "Birdwatching."  You ain't got me fooled.  I think I might be losing hair again.  A few years back I was losin' some hair, then they shot my scalp with something and it grew back to normal.  But now, there's a line in my hair where it's somewhat empty.  Is it just a normal Parting Of The Hair?  I don't know.  Something to keep in mind, though.  Yeesh, I got enough problems.  I'm not looking forward to this Female Ghostbusters.  What could they possibly know about crossing the streams.  Also, if they see a hot ghost, like Slimer, their feminine sensibilities would fail them to be able to deal with the situation the way only a Man can.  There was a scene, I think in II, where Slimer's driving a bus.  Finally, a ghost with some civic responsibility.  And he's making all the stops and everything.  I love it.  The best part, though, which I think they glossed over and didn't show, is that he has fuckin' people riding the bus.  A guy waits for the bus, door opens, there's fuckin' slimer.  And the civilian goes, well, I am running ten minutes late.  Gets on the bus.  Anyway, that's how I feel about things.  See ya later.

9:53 P.M.                 


Monday, November 2, 2015

You Have The Right To Remain Title

    Hi!  It's the second day what of the month and such.  That's where I'm comin' from at ya.  Potential Class Excursion to a reading series tomorrow has been cancelled.  Moved back to either Friday or Next Tuesday.  Next Tuesday?  I Love That Day!  Not sure what saying that crap accomplishes.  I noticed the phrase, "Take a picture, it'll last longer," has fell out of use.  Mostly because now, every guy who receives that response, can go, "Okay!"  What a world, what a world.  Also, what else.  I forgot to do my homework for today's class.  Not my fault, it wasn't on the syllabus.  If anything, I should get extra credit for not doing it.  That's how I feel.  I continued my long running streak of innapropriate immediate responses to normal situations.  Pass the teacher on the sidewalk, he says something like, "See ya," I think.  I said, "You too."  If anything, that should get me extra credit.  That's my take away.  As we learn more about plays, I'm inching towards formulating my ideas for my own.  Gotta have dialogue?  I had no idea!  That'll get me started.  I gotta do something great, though.  I owe it to myself and my legions of fan.  That's how I feel.  I might take two classes next semester, but on different days.  I feel that I can do.  Or, I might drop out, leave my house, and adopt a Homeless Lifestyle.  Can't rule anything out at this early point.
    Anyway, great, just great.  What else is going on.  Mets lost.  The good news is they sure won a lot of baseball beforehand.  That's pretty good.  But their chances of winning the world series, at this point, can't be very good.  That's how I feel.  At least I won't have to listen to the Fox commentators anymore.  Just give me a lot of animated robots playing sports, that's what you're good at.  Maybe have those robots do the commentating, I don't know.  Also, I blame the fans for last night's loss.  They decided to keep Harvey in for the ninth.  That's the logical route to take.  Anyway.  Too bad no one brought in the sign, "Oh Well, Nice Try Guys."  They really dropped the ball.  Not unlike what the Mets kept doing.  Anyway, November, Eh?  I dig it.  My toe is healed.  Talk about a who cares.  Halloween month is over.  Now it's time for a month of Thanksgiving Movies on T.V.  You know, like... the one where... Annie?  She's a homeless to some extent.  No, there's gotta be one.  Let's see.  That clip of the fake American Indian crying at trash for some commercial?  We can play that on a loop.  Oh, right.  A Thanksgiving Christmas.  That sounds like a movie.  Seems like it should be.  After extensive research, it turns out there's a horror movie called  Thankskilling.  That's the most cleverest thing I've ever read.  I'm gonna print it out and write it down everywhere I go.  Don't know why I printed it out.  So I could check the spelling each time I write it, I guess.  That makes sense.  I wonder how modern American Indians approach Thanksgiving.  Well, that was a mistake.  Oh well, live and learn.  Pass me some firewater, I'm addicted to it, I'm an American Indian.  It's quite irresponsible of American Indians to be pro-alcohol.  Kids look up to these guys, they're setting the cultural trend any generation you look at.  Kids see guys on reservations drinking, they're gonna want to do it too.  You know who I blame?  Pocahontas.  Sacagawea.  Lois from Lois and Clark.
Alright.  Did you know Inuits have 43 different words for Snow?  You would too if you had to spend all your time in an frozen arctic hellscape.  Hey, let's come up with some new words, just to pass the time.  It'll keep our minds from literally freezing solid.  I guess.  I once heard that humans are 80% water, but I don't believe it.  I have an entire body, I got skin, organs, bones.  Seem pretty solid to me.  I also don't believe in Inuits.  Never seen one myself.  Maybe Inuits are just trying to keep their language private.  Carry on entire conversations with the translator watching, then just go, Oh, we were just talking about snow.  Just kept bringing up snow, that's it.  They don't want some creep translator knowin' what they're talking about.  The good news is Huh.  What else is going on.  We got a pretty decent number of words for snow.  Snow.  Sleet.  Sludge.  That's three off the top of my head.  Did you know Inuits use all parts of the buffalo.  All parts of the snow.  Pick one of those and qualify it as a D- joke, and forget the other one.  I don't need having two rapid fire D- jokes on my conscious.  It's not even a joke.  These aren't even jokes!  Inuits use all parts of the joke.  The punch line for laughing, the setup for getting setup.  And so on and thus forth.  I gotta come up with a mindblowing play.  It'll have dialogue, stage directoin, the whole nine yards.  I don't get the phrase the whole nine yards.  Like that's supposed to be a full thing.  Nine yards ain't full.  You got one more yard to go you imbeciles.  I mean, I guess I'm just assuming it's a football reference.  Gotta be though, right?
    Yeesh.  Well, Cespedes really stunk it up in his last month.  Still gotta consider resigning him, though.  Gotta do something.  It sucks, because we have a bunch of decent people at a bunch of positions, where we can go, Oh, we got this guy, that's serviceable, that's not too bad.  But we need better than that.  Also, sign every free agent relief pitcher.  One or two of them have got to pan out.  Keep the rest in the Minors.  Also, we can trade Jon Neise and Dillon Gee for some magic beans.  If you want to get a golden goose, you gotta start out with some magic beans, that's logic, that's all that is.  David Wright's a question mark.  Still on contract for a while, and he's done a shitload for the team, but still, he's gotta produce.  Don't know who we can get at second that's better than Murphy.  We'll see how it goes.  Baseball talk is boring.  If you wanted to listen to baseball talk you can tune into Sportzilla & The Jabberjocks.  Ain't my job to be a Sports Guy.  I forgot, though, that's why sports is still fun for the winter.  Free agency, trades.  Anyway, what else.
Stupid Nine Yards bullshit.  Got me back on sports.  Now let's get bullshit to get me back on Bullshit.  I had a brief fleeting unwelcome thought while I was in class.  I just shit no more than 30 yards from here.  Then I forgot about it because who cares.  I hope Deflate Gate never happens to my testicle sack.  Not sure why I bothered typing that bullshit.  Oh yeah, it's bullshit.  Bullshit is what I'm all about when it comes down to it.  Being just a Met fan, though, is a degree removed from being a Sports Fan.  Because, generally, the conceit of being a Mets fan is that you don't really expect them to do any good.  Most of the time, you're basically just rooting for an ideal of probable mediocrity and inexplicit doubt.  Anyway, what else.  Well, the Royals won the year after making the playoffs, and 30 years after their last World Series Win. Next year'll be the Mets 30 Year Anniversary.  They can pull a Royals.  Shit, how'd I get back on sports.  Oh, yeah.  The potential of my scrotum deflating.  Anyway.  Sometimes I feel some sort of vein, or something, in my scrotum, and logically, yeah, it's some sort of tube connecting one thing to another.  But could it be a tumor?  I don't know.  I'm not a doctor.  Although, healing my toe myself, pretty sure that qualifies me as a doctor in most regards.
    That's not a bad idea for a play.  A guy talking to his balls/ballsack.  I don't have the details yet.  That'll come with time.  Or both balls talking to each other.  And make it a parody of the Twix Commercial, where each factory makes a different Twix that are apparently slightly different.  Also, two testicles.  Really, God?  What can two do that one can't.  Just symetricalizing the body, I suppose.  Can't argue with that.  Anyway.  Also, is it cheating that Kansas City had cheerleaders before the game?  Let's go to the phones.  What else is going on.  I wonder if you can donate a testicle to someone.  And, if so, if that testicle ultimately led to insemination, would the child have the donor's DNA or the hosts.  These are pertinent questions that demand answers.  Anyway.  Inuits are all like, We have 43 different words for snow.  Oh yeah?  Well, we have a dozen different names for you, and none of them are what you call yourselves or are politically correct!  Stick that in your peace pipe and smoke it.
    Anyway, what else.  At least we saved an hour of Daylight.  That's something worth something I guess.  What else is going on.  The Daylight's Never Spent On The British Empire.  It's History, you wouldn't understand.  Russia's pretty big, too.  You don't hear them bragging about it.  C'mon.  Also, when is India gonne get the Continent status it so rightly deserves.  Right now it's a subcontinent, an after thought.  People just lump it in with the rest of Asia.  This is an issue I feel very strongly about.  Anyway, what else is going on.  Also, when Antarctica completely melts, at least it'll save us some ink when printing out maps.  Gotta look at the bright side.  And, in this case, the bright side never sets.  Thanks a lot, Al Gore.  They knew about Global Warming in the late 80's.  I wonder if, "Under The Sea," from The Little Mermaid was a prophetic warning.  Can't dismiss it out of hand.  That's how I feel.  I guess the whole thing could be a prophetic warning.  I'm no expert on prophetic warnings.  I don't think anyone is.  The good news is, if we're 80% water, whose to say that some of us can't be mermaids. 
    Right, right.  Also, what's the other 20%.  Nobody knows.  And how come when I take a bath I don't dissolve.  There's a lot of questions being posed here that, frankly, really need to be researched.  The good news is there's going to be an observer for Wednesday's class.  Get to show off my Participating Chops to an extra person.  I can dig that.  Anyway, what else.  It's dark outside.  I'm scared.  I remember as a kid, I would always be scared to be the only person in the house on the floor.  Downstairs, upstairs.  I wanted some company.  I could be left alone in a room.  Just needed some floor companions.  Anyway.  I have to wait a week to register for classes, since I didn't do pre-registration.  Whatta bullshit.  They'll all be filled up by that time.  The system is rigged in favor of those who do pre-registration, I've been saying this from the start.  I don't have time to meet with an advisor.  I got two and a half hours of class a week, Jack.  Plus Potential Class Excursion at some point.  My parents, pretty much all the time, are telling me to meet with an advisor.  I met with an advisor last spring, after which, they let up a little bit for a few weeks.  Then, right back at telling me to meet with an advisor.  I know the classes I'm looking at for next semester I need.  I'm good right now.
    Anyway, what else.  Goin' for the clean double entry?  Don't see why not.  Besides having to write two more paragraphs when I'm already more or less maxed out.  But, besides that, it's a noble pursuit.  Anyway, what else.  There are a bunch of rules we're learning for play writing that seem pretty cumbersome, but maybe if I learn to put two and two together, can lead me on the track to one great play.  Can't count it out completely.  What else is going on.  Also, gotta find my old copy of Final Draft.  Pretty sure they have a Play option in there.  The final play might not be so great, but I can format it like a champ, without any of the leg work.  Finally my eleven year old birthday present is paying off!  Anyway, jeez.  I like going to class.  If I could go to this class four days a week, I'd be happy to.  I can do one class once a day for four days out of the week.  Great.  What else is going on.  No more Mets games to watch.  That dramatically decreases the time I gotta spend with my parents.  So, that's a positive.  Also, more good news.  No more new dog shit in front of my house in the last few days.  As they say, on the topic of shit outside your house, no news is good news.  Unless if there's a piece of shit that stays there for a really long time.  Then, no news means it's still there.  That's a negative. 
    Alright, last paragraph, right?  I can dig it.  More often then it should, I walk by our community mailboxes, with ten to twenty houses worth of mailbox, with the master key still in the lock.  That's no good.  If there's an evil version of me in my neighborhood, which is very possible, he's goin' through all our mail.  And if the key is still in there, I believe he's legally allowed to go through the mail.  If anything, it's probably encouraged.  Yeesh.  What else and crap.  I don't know anymore.  What else is going on.  I'm not a fan of bus stops without a community garbage can in the vacinity.  I can deal with no bus bench to sit on.  I can stand.  I need to throw something out, though.  I can't here, I certainly can't on the bus.  You want me to carry garbage like an asshole?  How dare you.  Also, how many times does the driver have to say it... move to the back of the bus.  After school lets out, these high schoolers congregate standing in the middle of the bus.  They have no respect for rules or authority.  I, personally, am scared for our future based on the actions of these millennials.  Also, am I a millennial now?  I don't want to be a millennial.  I wasn't a millennial five years ago.  How come I'm suddenly a millennial.  I think if you were a pre-teen or older when the millennial actually happened, you're not a millennial.  Seems right to me.  If you weren't on Facebook as a high schooler or earlier, you're not a millennial.  That's about it.  See ya later.

-6:18 P.M.                                                                            


Sunday, November 1, 2015

50% Off All Titles

    It's November!  Party time.  Just watched Ash Vs. Evil Dead.  Loved it.  Army of Darkness was one of my favorite movies as an old child.  We caught it when it was on the Sci-Fi Channel, me my brother and my Mom, and we thought it was just a poorly made Horror movie, and that's why it was funny.  Later I realized it was funny on purpose.  This few sentences is brought to you by Ash Vs. Evil Dead, Available Now On Starz On Demand.  I figure, if I advertise things enough, eventually, someone's bound to pay me.  It's logic.  I think one of my favorite part about the entire franchise is how the Evil Dead fight.  They just punch and kick and throw you into things.  That's funny.  Amusing, one might say.  Anyway, Holiday's over.  Whew, that's a relief.  Now we're into November.  Also, I can't say with full certainty that it's available on Starz On Demand.  You might have to wait a day.  Damn, now they might dock me for giving them false advertisement.  I'd have to pay them.  Oh well, alls fair in movies & T.V.  That's an expression.  What else is going on.  Mets primed to win three straight.  They've got the team work to make a dream work.  That's how I feel.  Also, can we take out Terry Collins in the fifth inning and replace him with a bench manager.  I'd feel a lot better with that arrangement.  Oh well.  There's no, "We," in team.  Unless you turn the "M" upside down.  And I don't know why you wouldn't.  Also, I'm not a fan of the expression, "There's No 'I' In Team."  Oh, well, if the spelling of the word somehow slightly contradicts it, I guess it must be true.  That's not Moneyball.  Not in the slightest. 
    NY Marathon today.  I think one of my favorite jokes I've ever written was, "I don't get people who run marathons.  Hasn't anyone ever told them you can't run away from your problems."  Solid B/B+ joke.  Gotta hold on to those.  And the good news is, it's topical at least once a year.  People love topical humor.  It's a way for the uninformed to remain on top of things.  Through humor!  Talk about gettin' your money's worth.  Yeesh.  Anyway, what else is going on.  New color scheme.  Back to the Classic.  Anyway.  I decided to use my extra hour sleeping.  Not like you chumps who are awake for an extra hour.  You fools.  Anyway.  What else is going on.  I healed my toe through home remedies.  Talk about a Hero.  I don't like the Taco Bell promotion for the world series, "Steal a base, steal a breakfast."  Where if a play steals a base in the world series, we get to 'steal' a free breakfast at Taco Bell.  I already got two strikes, I don't need to go to the clink for life over a breakfast.  Also, if someone strikes out in the world series, he goes to jail for life.  That's the cross promotion they made with The Police.  Yeesh.  Really raises the stakes, though.  Also, you can get steak in your Taco Bell Breakfast.  Nobody's stopping you.  Also, I'm not a fan of condoning and glamorizing stealing.  They should know better.
    Anyway.  Great.  What else is going on.  The Metropolitans have their work cut out for them.  We'll see how that goes.  Got class tomorrow.  Gotta get a new Metrocard.  I should get a First Class Metrocard.  Where I get to sit next to the bus driver.  Because stupidity reigns supreme.  What else and crap.  Gotta whole half an entry to go.  Gotta fill it up and jokes and crap.  Let's see, jokes, jokes.  Have you heard the one about the Australian who goes to see the eye doctor?  If you have, let me know.  I'd love to know how the joke turns out.  Anyway, what else is going on.  At what point did early settlers realize, Oh, we're not in India.  These guys aren't Indians.  Had to be pretty early on.  The 1500's.  You'd think they'd have figured it out.  That's early enough to come up with a new name for these fellers.  But they didn't.  That takes courage.  Determination.  A supreme lack of Curtsey.  I wonder if the American Indians were ever like, I have reservations about these new guys.  And then we were like, Reservations?  We'll give you some reservations, alright.  Because crap and shit.  Then again, if it weren't for the settlers, we'd never have Thanksgiving.  American Indians would have no one to give to.  And white people would have had no one to thank.  Also, I find it odd that we feed the Homeless on Thanksgiving so aggressively.  Shouldn't we have learned from History not to give any free handouts?  It's only a matter of time before the Homeless rise up and overtake us.  We're just feedin' fuel to the fire.
    That's how I feel and crap.  They already have a key advantage.  They don't need to live in homes.  Anyway.  I have freakin' two and a half weeks to write my play.  We barely even started learnin' about plays.  Haven't even read one yet.  I'm woefully unequipped.  I do like the idea about two guys who take turns on the stage, getting progressively lonelier, till they meet each other at the end.  That's a commentary on modern society if I ever saw one.  Also, it's possible I never saw one.  Full disclosure.  I guess I could write a play about Thanksgiving.  And call it A Thanksgiving Christmas.  Or, People Getting Progressively Lonelier.  Maybe I can figure out how to make that work, for real.  Who knows.  Probably not, though.  Oh, what could have been.  What else is going on and crap.  Yeesh.  My birthday is in five and 6/7th weeks #Countdown.  It's getting dark earlier.  I demand an explanation!  I demand answers!  Daylight Savings Time.  I'm Satisfied with that explanation!  That Answer is appropriate!  My Mom was so upset last week when a Walking Dead Guy seemed to die, it made me upset.  I don't even like the show.  But he was Asian, which, as a characteristic, makes you pretty likable.  Not the Asian Guy!  That's how I feel in general.  Also, any excuse to watch Chris Hardwick, am I right?  Yeesh.  I stopped watching @Midnight months ago.  I don't know why.  I really liked the show.  I think I just fell into a habit of not watching it if I didn't know the comedians for some reason.  I'm sure it's as good even if I don't recognize the participants.  Oh well, live and learn.  I haven't learned anything.  Still not gonna watch it.  I can't say that for certain.  Maybe this is just the bolt of inspiration I need to mix it back into my T.V. Schedule.
    At least start a new paragraph.  That's good.  What else is going on.  I like how on Spotify, I can see what my Brother's listening to.  I've always wanted to spy on people, now's my big chance.  Tame Impala?  What the Hell is that.  Oh well, not knowing what it is won't stop me from subconsciously judging him.  Why should it.  Downside is, he can see what I'm listening to.  I don't need that kind of bullshit hanging over my head.  Now I gotta listen to Cool music, to impress him.  Yeesh.  I probably got 80% of my listening to music background from him.  He's a Hero, it turns out.  Also, I don't like how they don't mention Army of Darkness when Ash is talking about his background.  Evil Dead I and Evil Dead II are essentially the same movie remade, and he alludes to that history.  No tellin' people, I went back in time for a while, and then made it back here.  I don't know if it happened and he just doesn't like talking about it, or if, now, in this universe, it never happened.  I demand answers.  If I went back in time to fight monsters, I'd be telling everybody about it.  It's a great story at cocktail parties and such.  Also, I've never been to a cocktail party.  I've barely ever been to a party.  I feel like I once had a birthday party a Q-Zar.  Can't remember the details.  Except that people kept hitting me in the chest with their gun, and then shooting.  Takes all the sport out of the game.  These assholes are ruining it for everyone.
    The good news is New Paragraph.  If I ever get a ticket from a Traffic Cop, I'm gonna be like, I hope they accept these at Chuck E. Cheese!  Then Traffic Cop would write me another ticket for Being a Moron In Public.  Pretty sure that's got to be some sort of offense.  Didn't Bill De Blasio campaign on a promise of No More Traffic Accidents?  I feel like that happened.  Seems kind of unobtainable in hindsight, don't it.  Anyway.  I think Bill De Blasio primarily campaigned on a promise of Having an African American Son.  That's great, just great.  Isn't Pataki running for President or something?  Where does he get off.  I'd say I hope David Patterson runs for president, but I don't want him to get hurt.  He shouldn't be running anywhere.  Also, I think it turns out he's just 'legally' blind, where he can still see somewhat.  Whatta load of crap.  I thought we were voting for a blind guy!  That was the whole deal!  He sure pulled the wool over our eyes, and crap, and bullshit, and more crap.  Also, I've never voted for anything.  Except for myself as 7th Grade President of Middle School.  Probably got a couple dozen votes, don't mean to brag.  I feel like a teacher in the school probably pulled a Matthew Broderick and tampered with the results.  Or, I just wasn't popular at all.  One of those two things. 
    Anyway, great, just great.  I don't know if I'm gonna watch the Met game tonight.  They got a good chance of winning, though.  I feel, get into Game Six, that's decent.  Also, I'm probably doing something Tuesday Night for Class, and I'd feel like a real Popular, goin, Ah, big Met game, but I can't.  Got some socializing goin' on.  Make me feel like a reallll Popular.  That's how that goes.  Also, doing stuff with Classmates for Class counts as socializing.  Close enough, I feel.  What else and crap.  November!  I can hardly believe it.  The month of Thanksgiving.  Everyone loves Thanksgiving.  Especially those Homeless Freeloaders, I hate them so much.  I have a good feeling this'll be the last paragraph.  That's great.  I wonder how Daylight Savings Time will effect the World Series.  My gut instinct?  Not at all.  My Dad was sure happy about saying, if this game goes into extra innings, it could be going on for two months!  That's my Dad for ya.  Whatta jokester.  Also, it turns out, my parents are very upset about the playoffs going into November.  They have very strong feelings about it.  Oh well.  I'll stick to my Oregon Trail comparison.  If you want it to end earlier, gotta start earlier.  Gotta be some sort of tradeoff.  That's how I feel.  I can write another paragraph.  That would be the bee's knees.
    Yeah!  I'm doing it!  I'm a Hero!
  That's how that goes.  What else is going on how it goes.  The guy pitching for the Royals Dad just died, and my first instinct, I'm sad to say, was That'll Shake Him Up!  Feel bad about it now.  No one's Dad should die.  That ought to never happen.  There's that saying, you never want to bury your parents.  I heard it in an Opposite Place.  Anyway, what else is going on and bullshit.  Yeesh.  I don't wanna close on Dad Death.  I need to write another paragraph after this one.  What else is going on.  What's today, Sunday?  How about that.  What else is going on.  We had an extra hour to cleanse ourselves from the evils of Halloween.  That's lucky.  One thing's for sure, though.  Color Scheme is back to basics.  The white font on black background that we've all learned to love over o' these many years.  Also, I'm out of things to say.  Until I think of some more crap.  It's well within my ability, I have the track record.  I bet some of these Marathoners set some track records.  That's right within their skill set. 
    Last paragraph time.  What else is going on.  Also, you shouldn't have to bury your parents.  Get a gravedigger to do it, that's their job.  Anyway.  They should bury Mets Of Years Past in centerfield.  Every ballpark needs some sort of gimmick.  No gravestones, that'll be interfering too much.  Just ghosts, that's an appropriate level of interference, I feel.  It'll be just like Angels In The Outfield.  Maybe put up a little shrub, I guess, to give the deceased some eternal comfort.  But no more than that.  It's about time we get a baseball stadium which is haunted.  We've waited long enough.  Anyway.  See ya later.

-5:59 P.M.