Tuesday, November 29, 2016

Yeah I Should Be Doin' Something Else!

    Get off my back!  It was raining today.  Getta load of this crap.  First umbrella was broken.  Got rid of it.  Had to get a second umbrella.  That one worked out fine.  It was a story I'd remember for years to come.  Gotta get started on Short Story.  Need to have a Proposal which states what I'm gonna be doin' due Thursday.  And this is a real deadline.  I gotta have a proposal for him to even look at the story.  Story is due in two weeks.  Might as well do the Proposal before Thursday.  Alright, let's see, let's see.  Comedy, eh?  I had a thought I could maybe structure it around one or several true life experiences.  You know, give it structure.  Me going to an open mic.  Or me doin' something with people.  You know, that one time I did something?  And I can combine stuff.  And call the story One Crazzzzy Week!  It's crazy because at least two things happened in it.
    Also gotta figure out what research and whatnot I can include in it.  You know, Comedy Research.  I like the idea of beginning it with the dentist thing.  Because that's how the book begins.  And for one page, hes gonna be like, This guy is just doing the exact same thing as the book.  I like misleading people, even if it means I look The Fool.  Because then ideally he'll get on with the story and be like, What Twists and Turns!  He had me goin' there!  Note to self-- Add in some twists and turns.  Pretty good idea.  Maybe I go to an open mic and I think sledge means sludge.  I don't have all the details yet.  It doesn't even need to be semi-autobiographical.  I can just make up some bullshit.  I like bullshit.
    Anyway, deposited some cash on Poker yesterday!  That's great, just great.  Hopefully they don't have a 300% service charge.  That would be no good.  I should just start wrigin the thing instead of entries every day.  Oh well.  This gives me some extra time for it to percolate.  Man, I'm sure gonna try raising 8 cents preflop.  I can't wait to see how it turns out!  I'll get more winning the blinds.  And I'll build the pot more to win bigger hands.  It's a win-win situation.  Except for the lose loses that I didn't explicitly take into account.  Anyway, crap the crap.  I think I'm just not gonna do the Dyad assignment due Tomorrow.  I can't imagine writing anything that would be good.  I've earned not handing in one poem.
    What the what.  I'm conceited enough to think I'll show up in more than a few dyads from other people.  These guys can't get enough of me.  Write a guy taking a poetry class.  Hah!  One hand washes the other.  That applies here, right?  It's actually a decent idea.  I'm taking a poetry class.  I can bullshit on that a little bit.  Anyway, crap and crap.  Let's focus on what I'm doing now.  You know, crap?  I can't wait to watch the second half of Miss Daisy Gets Driven.  I thought I was recording it when I stopped watching it half way through, but I wasn't.  Have to wait for next time it's on.  Which is either sometime today or tomorrow.  Or something else, apparently.  That's what grammar would lead us to believe.
    I heard they were thinking about casting Melissa McCarthy as Daisy.  Then they decided going into the future wasn't a feasible way to produce a film.  Driving Miss Daisy apparently won Best Picture at the Oscars in 1989.  Or, as I call it, A slow year for films.  That'll show them!  Morgan Freeman's name is Hoke.  I always thought she was saying Honkey!  And I didn't realize till watching it that I was like, Wait, Honkey... that would be the other way around.  I get my racial epithets screwed up, so sue me.  Maybe Jack Black was saying Honkey in Be Kind Rewind.  I don't have all the details.
    The point is how many paragraphs is this.  Sixth.  Great.  Writin' it around the structure of a guy whose me taking a poetry class.  And all the drama that ensues.  Watched some Italian Comedians in class today.  My favorite was None Of Them.  Oh well, live and learn.  One of them was alright.  Forget who.  The Mets resigned Cespedes.  Re-signed.  They overpaid for him, sure.  What do I care.  He's a good 'un.  Anyway.  It's always exciting to see if any new website shows up as one of the 12 or 16 most commonly viewed websites on my phone.  Hey, look who made the list!  Let's have a party!  That sort of thing.  It's also interesting to see if I ever call or text a fifth person.  Right now I'm pretty sure I've contacted four people over the last year or two.  Alright!
    Great.  I figured out how to un-backwardize umbrellas.  So today's not a total loss.  What else is going on.  The sad thing is I actually accumulated a page of riffing on Abbott and Costello and no he's never gonna even see it and I get 0 credit.  All on account of my supreme laziness.  Oh well, live and learn.  Work that into the story!!!  That's a twist and turn.  He'd laugh at that, right?  It's funny because I'm Stupid.  What else is stupid.  I've lost a quarter in Poker.  There goes that.  Now I've lost two dollars.  There goes that, a little bit more serious this time.  Whatever.  Crap and crap.  At this rate, losing 2 dollars every twenty minutes, that's 1 dollar every ten minutes.  That's 50 dollars in 500 minutes.  That's eight to nine hours.  Great, just great.
    It's all Raising To Eight Cents fault.  What else is going on.  Eighth paragraph.  Everything just reminds me of it being eight cents' fault.  Because it's the same number.  Great.  Professor kept giving us quotes about comedy from Karl Marx.  Relatively certain he meant Groucho Marx.  I didn't correct him, because what I do I know, Karl Marx has a lot of quotes.  Maybe he had some stuff to say about comedy.  I looked it up on Internet and nothing immediately popped out to suggest he talked about comedy at all.  Well, that's what ya get.  He kept calling Jon Stewart Jon Daily last week.  Live and learn.  What else is going on.  It's not his fault he's going senile.  It happens to the best of us.
    What else and crap.  Won fifty cents back.  At this rate, I'll be a millionaire!  More or less.  What else is going on.  I want to write a poem in theory.  I like making people read or hear stuff I did.  This shit about writing about people in the class, I don't like.  Here's an idea-- Teacher scolding someone.  And just make it really absurd.  Heh.  Almost brought me to the verge of being vaguely amused.  Using Professor is kinda cheating.  I can make someone scold their classmate.  Heh.  Also, I was watching Mortal Kombat a week or two ago, and they say Flawless Victory too much.  There's some fights where there were flaws, the other guy got some good attacks on the would-be winner.  Then they go Flawless Victory.  If you say it for everything it kind of loses its meaning.
    Yeesh.  Also, it's unrealistic.  How could there be a Mortal Kombat.  I'm not buyin' it.  Also, hundreds of people worked on this movie.  You mean to tell me not one of them knows how to spell Combat?  Yeesh.  Mortal Wombat.  Let's move on.  Crap and crap.  Holding an umbrella is the worst.  I know!  I can write Return to Castle Wolfenstein fan fiction!  That'll show 'em, that'll show all of 'em.  Get to eat dinner tonight that's not from Ben's Deli.  Thanksgiving was from them Thursday through Sunday.  Then we got it again on Monday for individual meals.  Now, something else gets added into the new and improved rotation.  What will it be!!!  I can hardly contain my excitement.  Of what will eventually become me excrement. 
    Great.  Eleventh paragraph.  That's how I roll.  Maybe the Dyad assignment is to show me how intimidating my music is.  Thinkin' about people in the class and whatnot.  Not sure how I reached that conclusion.  The hypothesis seems kind of iffy.  Anyway, crap and crap.  I can't get in the habit of losing at poker and perpetually digging myself out of a hole.  I can win!  I deserve to win!  I've paid my dues.  Anyway, crap the crap and crap.  Gotta write a response paper that I really should to due Thursday comparing/contrasting two different comedians.  Could be different ethnic groups, different time periods, different styles of comedy, or.. I suppose... just two different people(?).  What a great thing to put off to the last minute and then at the last minute not do.
    What else.  At least now I've confirmed I should probably stick to raising to six cents.  That's a one and a half dollar lesson, sure.  12th paragraph.  Wonderful.  Ate a whole turkey with family over four days.  That'll show that Turkey for wanting to be alive!  Anyway.  I can get lasagna or something.  Seems like a good way to go.  Teacher was talkin' about lasagna.  When I was a kid for Thanksgiving, we'd have a lasagna this big, and the turkey this big.  Now it's reversed!  With the turkey being bigger this time around!  Then we all laughed and Professor ran around the room giving us high fives.  It was a story we could tell for years to come.  The point is Lets Unload Jay Bruce.  He had his chance and he blew it.
    Anyway, crap and crap.  I watched a terrible movie last night where Robert De Niro is in it.  It was about a heist.  I believe it was called The Bus That Could Never Slow Down.  Anyway, what else and crap.  Watched more than my fair share of Simpsons the last few days.  That's alright.  I find it amusing, I don't know why you guys watch it.  What else.  Might stick around on Campus tomorrow to see a poetry reading at 6.  We gotta go to one over the semester for Poetry Class.  Now, since I'm so great, I could probably get away with not going to one and still getting a good grade.  But, hey, I like to do stuff.  Also, it would give me an extra reason to see advisor after class tomorrow, to help kill some of that time.  It's a win-win except for me having to do stuff.  You know, like talk to someone for twenty minutes?  And then sit quietly for two or three hours?
    That's stuff.  Hey, I could to the Comedy Assignments in the two and a half hours unaccounted for.  Now this is starting to sounds like a Great Idea.  14th paragraph and whatnot.  Gotta shave this weekend.  It is easier when it's not too long.  Adultin' it up, that's how that goes.  I was talkin' to the same girl I talk to all the time before Comedy Class and she was like do you know that guys name, with glasses, and curly hair... and I was like, I don't even know your name.  I didn't say it.  Thought it, though!  It was a thought I would hold onto for much, much time.  Let's be honest, I barely know my name.  Crap and crap.  Tonight or tomorrow is probably the last of great episodes of Simpsons.  Later episodes have their merit, but there is an unarguable drop in quality at some point.  Sure we could argue it.  Fine, not here, though!  My website!  Take it outside!
    Yeesh.  Maybe each generation just likes their Simpsons.  I don't have all the details.  Get off my back!  What else and crap.  15th paragraph.  Every time I look back six months on crazysheet it's always terrible.  And for at least 2 years now I'm always under the impression I'm doin' great.  Then, I look back several months, and am like, Well, I was wrong then... I can't be wrong now, though!  No way!  I've turned a corner!  That's how I delude myself and whatnot.  I asked my Dad if there's any mathematical name for when you have a rectangle, right, but instead of right angles, there's a little curve.  Rounded edges.  You see it in KidPix and whatnot a lot.  He knew what I was talking about but didn't think it had a name.  If it did, it's some very archaic term or something that never gets used.
    The point is sure I'm learnin' stuff.  At what point do I start panicking that I'm gonna blow all this money.  40 dollars?  30 dollars?  20 dollars?  Hopefully we don't get to that point.  What paragraph is this.  16.  Great.  Just as I suspected.  Anyway, crap and crapdom.  I don't know.  Jeez.  A good player just sat at my table.  I recognize the username as someone who took a lot of money from me in a previous incarnation of having money on this site.  I don't have to stand for this!  I can stand up from sitting at that table and move to a new one.  That's right, standing.  What else is going on and crap.  The good news is I Still Know What A Dyad is.  It's only been a day, sure.  But I still know it!  That's not nothing.
    Anyway, crap the crap and crappy crap.  Jeez.  17th paragraph.  Rollin' right along.  Last season or two of Simpsons have picked up a bit.  I find it funny.  Don't judge me.  How dare you and whatnot.  Six o Clock.  Inside the actors studio there.  You know what time it is at this point of the entry.  Then you can extrapolate to figure out how long it's gonna take for me to finish this entry from here.  I don't like giving out such personal information.  Oh well, too late now.  Man, that guy's username intimidates me so much.  I'm not ashamed to admit it.  Some people just got some really killer usernames.  Also, actually, it's six on the dot now.  Wait... now it's 6:01.  I will keep you updated on this situation as it develops.
    I sure hope not.  Let's see, words, words.  18th paragraph.  Now we're gettin' close.  Probably.  This ain't gonna be 42 paragraphs, I'm sure of that.  At the highest, 24 or 25.  Probably 20-22.  That's where the smart money is being played.  Also, lets get Vegas betting on how long Crazysheet entries will be.  It's fun for everyone especially me using a fake name.  I'd be raking in the dough.  That ruins the sanctity of crazysheet!  What sanctity.  It's a place where I make puns and go That'll Show Em That'll Show All Of Em.  Who knows where I'll be six months from now.  Anyway.  I don't know.  Talked to my Mom about the Dyad.  Because I go to my Mom for advice on all things.  She gave an example, like, What was the homework?  I don't know.   You don't know?  Nope.  Well... that's as far as we got.
    Rather just not hand in anything.  That's how I feel.  I sure hope my Dad gets us cigarettes soon.  I'm running dangerously low.  These are the real issues.  It's 6:13 now.  Just keepin' you up to date.  Anyway, jeez.  The first 3/4ths of the entry goes a lot quicker than the last part.  It's important for you to know this.  Because the less time I spend on it the better I look.  I spend a half an hour on over 20 paragraphs, that's insane, that's great.  I spend 2 days, suddenly doesn't seem so great.  Although, in the end, writing four entries a week, does average out to roughly one every 2 days.  But that's mostly just percolating.  Not actually doin' it.  Ya catch my drift?
    Which is an expression for some reason.  I think it has to do with wind.  Hey, it's the 20th paragraph.  Definitely got some more in me.  Look at how much fun we're having talking about how much time it takes to write an entry.  I don't want it to ever end!  That's a long time.  If I write this entry for the rest of my life, man, I gotta make it real good to justify that.  Maybe that's how I should approach Short Story.  It's just a 40-100 paragraph entry.  Maybe even shorter.  I don't know Math that good or anything.  Not estimating, at least.  Who am I to estimate.  Anyway, crap and crap.  I'm on board with lasagna for tonight.  You could do worse than lasagna.
    Anyway.  I like calling pre-flop.  Anything can happen!  That's not really how I feel and whatnot.  Man, I can play poker without thinking if I bust at this table it's all over for me.  What fun.  Time to start playing loose and making bad calls.  Alright!  I wonder if the Jerky Boys would like playing poker.  One can only imagine.  I capped this entry paragraph prediction at 25.  Let's go for that.  I like saying crap.  I can say crap for another four paragraphs and whatnot.  Small percent chance that I misheard the poetry reading announcement.  Pretty sure they said there would be one.  On campus.  At 6.  On Wednesday.  Most likely.  But, let's be honest.  I'm not 100% sure on anything these days, much less a poetry reading.
    That's how I feel.  Also, if it's 2% milk, what the Hell is the other 98%?!  That's a joke that may only work if you happen not to know what milk is.  I don't.  So it's a joke to me.  To you it may just be idiocy.  See, lots of stuff I don't know.  Is it cream or something?  Something to do with cream, I'm sure of it.  Anyway, crap and crap.  Teacher didn't know who Tenacious D were.  He was asking about comedy music, I figured he knew a variety of it.  Didn't know Tenacious D.  And you call yourself a Teacher.  Anyway, what else.  I went, it's Jack Black... and Kyle Gass.  There's a good chance he knew who Jack Black was.  I could have left it at that.  But I only had to say one more name to complete the D's lineup.  So I said it.
    These are the real issues?  Sure, why not.  23rd paragraph.  Just about on track.  Coulda said Flight of the Conchords.  Couldawouldashoulda.  What else is going on.  Fat.  It's 2% fat.  Fat is cream.  I was pretty close.  Right?  Anyway, what else is going on.  Two and a half paragraphs to go.  Let's do it.  My music is comedy music.  It's funny in that It's Not Good.  Makes me laugh.  Anyway, jeez.  It's 6:36.  That's no good.  Well, whatever.  Finish the entry by 7.  Let's do it.  Hah.  Lasagna.  I could see me eating that.  Don't know if italics was necessary for that.  Don't know if typing it was necessary for that.  Lots of unknowns in this paragraph.
    Great.  I think I'm gonna trust my instincts and just not do this poem.  I've earned it, what with all the doing the other stuff that was assigned.  Lasagna comes with a side of bread.  I like takin' most the cheese off the lasagna and eating it on the bread.  Just a little trick I've come up with that's served me well in life.  Great, what else.  6:45.  Right on track.  Paragraph and a half to go.  Paragraph rhymes with half.  All is well.  Hah.  What if I write the Dyad and the two classmembers are just talking about me.  Hey, isn't Mike great?  Yes, I agree.  I want his hot body.  Can't argue with that.  Well, cut out the sexual stuff, that's funny.  Still would rather do nothing, though.  If I was somehow forced to hand in something, though, I might have tried that.
    Alright!  Last paragraph!  We did it and whatnot.  It's funny because it's about me.  I like me.  What else is going on.  Eight minutes to finish this paragraph.  Let's see, crap and crap.  I'd rather go over 7 o' clock than not mean an entire paragraph.  I feel that much is expected of me.  Also, it's less than eight minutes.  On account of there being a time between 6:52 and 6:53 unaccounted for.  What else.  Losin' more money in poker.  Well, that'll happen.  Gotta right the ship and whatnot.  As long as I don't go tilting I'll be fine.  Anyway, crap.  Really shoulda started my short story instead of this.  Well, live and learn.  I don't know.  I guess I'll see ya later.

-6:59 P.M.

Monday, November 28, 2016

That'll Show 'Em, That'll Show All Of 'Em

    Workshopped one of my songs in class today.  Went pretty well.  One person asked if I heart of Daniel Johnston and said it reminded her of him.  Awesome!  That's exactly what I was going for!  Post-doing it.  I was going for a song.  Then, after it was done, I was like, Hey, this could be that sort of crap.  The real point is that I gotta get to know this person who knows Daniel Johnston.  That's what I'm talkin' bout!  The point is I'm finally gonna type up the Abbott and Costello riff tonight!  I can't wait.  All this anticipation has made me crazy with anticipation.  That's right, doubling down on the word anticipation.  If you've got a better word, I like to hear it.  E-mail me at DanielJohnstonImposter@angelfire.com.
    Angel Fire sounds relatively sacrilegious.  How did they get away with that for so long.  Also, whatever happened to Jeeves.  I wanna ask Jeeves crap!  I don't care how many times I'll have to say it.  Can't we get a petition going or something?  The point is Hey!  Thanksgiving happened.  My favorite part was when we actually finished all the food we amassed.  Just a little bit of Turkey left.  Like 1/30th of what it started out as.  The point is sure I know all about fractions.  Impressed yet?  Anyway.  Poem due Wednesday we have to write a dialogue or something between two other people in the class.  That's no good.  I don't know these people.  I'm too busy being me.  That takes a lot of work and willpower.
    Anyway, crap the crap.  I need to get back in the good graces of my Comedy Professor.  Time to turn this ship around!  There be sea monsters!  See, monsters.  I told you.  Huh.  Great.  I now have six or seven songs I've written in the past month for this class.  A couple of songs I wrote and ended up not using.  At this rate, I'm gonna give every person in the class a CD of my music.  Because surely their takeaway from this class is,  Man, the class is over, no more Mike.  Oh well, guess I'll try suicide.  This way they don't have to.  I'm saving lives here, people.  I guess now that I think about it I'm kind of monopolizing the class.  But that's everyone else's fault.  They keep goin,  That's a Mike line or I can see Mike saying that when discussing other people's poems.  They created the monster and brought this on themselves.
    That'll show you for acknowledging me as a person!  Stupid class.  Played the song we workshopped for my Mom just earlier.  I had no idea you were that unhappy.  It's a song, jeez.  Some people just don't get it.  Also, you're my Mom.  Lemme worry about my happiness, alright?  You concern yourselves with cigarettes and soap operas, I got this.  Note-- write a song about my Mom called Cigarettes and Soap Operas, then play it for her, and ask her why She's unhappy!  It's a foolproof plan in that I'm a fool and the proof is in the plan.  Does Fight Club count as a soap opera?  I never saw the movie but based on the poster I would say Yes.  Anyway, crap and crap.
    What else.  Fifth paragraph.  I had a dream two nights in a row that they recounted the votes and Hillary ended up winning.  Premonition?  Sure.  It happened twice, that's the rule for something being a premonition.  First one set up the wonderment of will it happen, second one confirms it.  So we got that to look forward to, I guess.  I don't know if she ended up winning, actually, but she got back really close, and my thought was This ain't over yet!!!  So will it manifest in the couple of weeks of this not being over yet, or not.  I can't wait to find out!  Not so much for the results of the eleciton, persay.  I'm just interested to seeing if I'm any good at premonitions.  I could become a psychic and that'll show them, that'll show all of them.
    Is there someone you're close to with the letter H in their name?  Yes! ...That's all I got.  Fifteen dollars please.  Well, I'm upset I didn't learn much, but she did know about the letter H.  She being he.  Me.  I just picture psychics as being female in the default.  That'll learn me.  I could pull a Mrs. Doubtfire to become a psychic.  Or a Big Momma's House.  Or one of a dozen other movies over the past two decades.  I think I'll settle on doing a Big Momma's House.  Now I got a plan.  Alright!  The point is Martin Lawrence is a pervert.  Crap and crap.  The point is what else.  They were showing Driving Miss Daisy a few nights ago on T.V.  I can only assume for Black Friday.  It's always a black Friday when Ice Cube and Chris Tucker are around!  Tagline for that movie I believe. 
    Except for Rush Hour II.  Huh?  Let's get back on track.  You know, like Money Train?  What else is crappening.  They wanted Eddie Murphy to play the Driver of Miss Daisy.  I read about it on Internet.  I had a miniscule amount of old barbeque sauce we had in the fridge and now I can't get the terrible taste of of my mouth.  That's Karma for ya.  Karmas not for ya.  It's for all of uh.  That's why it's karma.  The point is Someone Got Knocked The Fuck Out.  I don't have all the details.  Jeez.  I can always do Abbott and Costello tomorrow morning.  I have a good feeling this might be it!  The point is Crap.  What two people can I use.  Here's the people that have characteristics I remember-- Old Lady.  Smart African-American lady whose nice to me.  Guy whose possibly... Indian?  Girl in wheelchair.  Hmm.  Can't do Professor, that would be cheating.  Sure doing your professor is cheating, you'll get all A's!
    Who else.  Two Indian girls who I'm just starting being able to distinguish them.  Other girl who I find attractive.  Old Lady, I think I could do her.  But it would all be like, Hey, I have menopause!  Remember, from before?  That's no good.  Same reason I can't do wheelchair.  I love wheeling around!  The point is that I'm a terrible person.  I don't wanna be a terrible person.  Time to turn this ship around.  Sea Monsters be damned.  Trump saying millions of illegal immigrants voted.  And they report on it, giving him the headline.  They need to headline every time he lies as,  This Is Complete Bullshit, But Trump Says... You know, drive the point home.
    The point is Putin and Trump are gonna make the world great again.  Whew.  Now I'm relieved.  What else and crap.  Ninth paragraph.  I was just watching Terminator the II.  Why couldn't they just warn Skynet to halt its activities.  They can show them Arnold Schwarrneger, see how he's obviously from the future, and he's here for a legitimate reason, and make their case.  They don't need to shoot and kidnap that Don Cheadle look alike.  Also, the good terminator in II looks the same as the bad terminator in the original.  Talk about your plot holes.  They're an interesting subject.  The point is the vending machine I go to tomorrow works.  Now things are really starting to turn my way.  Is it possible Donald Trump is a cyborg?  That's get that rumor trending.
    That would explain a lot, now that I think about it.  Thinking about putting money on Poker.  I got a tentative permission from parents but it's really kind of a shady operation.  They have tens of thousands of people playing at any time, and it seems reputible in most ways.  Depositing is shady.  Withdrawing is shady.  Still, though, it will solve a lot of my problems givin' me unlimited amounts of Something To Do.  Stupid out of date BBQ sauce.  Where does it get off.  Several months ago, I guess.  Great.  What's a good hot sauce.  I consulted Internet and I found a list of the ten best hot sauces.  Didn't have it in me to commit any to memory.  I know Tabasco sauce.  Don't like it that much.  Oh well, guess I'll have to do without.
    Eleventh paragraph.  20 is well within reach.  The point is Great.  Daniel Johnston is perfect.  He's mentally ill, I'm mentally ill.  And I feel content-wise we're mired in similar bullshit.  Summer of '08, listened to a bunch of that one album Fun!  I'm sorry, Fun.  Also, just, "Fun,"... no period.  Or exclamation mark.  Question Mark would have been one way to go, to, but he made his choice and I support it.  Question Mark and the Rey Mysterios.  Anyway, what the what.  The point is That was a long time ago.  Roughly eight and a half years.  Where does the time go.  Let's get some physicists working on that.  Got a new Credit Card cause when I tried to deposit money on poker I immediately got a call suggesting it might have been a fraudelent thing.  In retrospect, I could have just said, No, that was me, thanks.  But I played it safe and cancelled it and cancelled the credit card.  That's a big reason why I don't wanna try it again.  Fool me once, shame on everyone.  Fool me twice I'm the fool.  Although it wouldn't be a Fooling, it would just be me knowing to own up to the charge.
    Anyway.  Let's play it safe and whatnot.  Easy for me to say, I got 75 cents on poker.  Gotta imagine that won't last.  Oh man, I could have 50 dollars on it, uhhhhhh.  That's my sort of fantasy.  Anyway, crap the crap.  12th paragraph.  For a while, my songs were getting better.  Now they're getting worse.  Such is life and whatnot.  The last week or two, though, has made me think getting a guitar/vocal teacher might have some merit.  I feel like I'm starting to develop my own thing, and being a lot more proficient at guitar and singing, I don't know, might be able to do something.  Or nothing.  Probably nothing. But, in the long run, isn't nothing something?  Nope.  It's not.  See, it says Nothing.  Says it right there in the word.  Not something.  See?  Alright.
    Jeez and whatnot.  I'm bad at bringing down the dish I use every now and then when I make myself a sandwich at night.  I forget all about it the next day.  Then, if and when I do remember it, its not quite an opportune time to commit myself to preforming such an arduous task.  Anyway, crap the crap.  The whole entire story is due in 2 and a half weeks.  That's no good.  All I have so far is Prove to Professor I don't need a reality check.  By writing a great story.  That, and licking my dentist's fingers.  Allusion to the source material, without overdoing it, seems like an okay way to go.  Even just that one thing.  Hilarious!  Anyway, crap and crap.  I don't lick my dentist's fingers.  That would be weird.  I lick my Dental Hygienist's fingers.  Just setting the record straight.
    14th paragraph!  Now we're gettin' into the shit.  I think maybe the worst thing I can imagine is someone talking to me about lyrics thinking now they know something about me.  It's music, people.  These lines rhyme with each other.  Even in Poetry Class, they're not going, Oh, Mike must be feeling this way... No.  It's all about, this was a good line.  Nothin' about how Mike's feelin'.  The point is lets read some poems.  Alright!  This semester is almost over.  It was a good'n.  Winter is Philosophy.  No fun there.  Great, just great.  I am thinking about a Screenwriting class, which fulfills no requirements, but seems like a good class to take.  Alternatively, I could take a playwriting class, which is in the English department, but I believe doesn't count for anything either.
    These are the issues that I will keep you updated on.  The point is the entry is moving along.  That'll show me, that'll show all of me.  Walked by my Professor who I was in the bathroom with last week.  Still didn't give me any recognition at all.  Pretty sure it's him.  He just forgot me, I guess.  Or I did something to make him feel uncomfortable.  Like standing next to him in Urinal and not peeing immediately.  Maybe he thought I was a pervert, one who didn't actually have to urinate.  Just gettin' close to him.  It's as good a theory as any.  Except for the right explanation.  That's more good than other theories.  What the what.  It's tough, and I may be wrong in this, but songs are all about cliches, whereas in poetry, they're terrible.  I could be a little wrong, tehre.  Maybe songs sound like clichés, but actually aren't.  They're clichés because Hey I Heard This Befo--- Oh, It Was This Song.
    Cracked that code.  16th paragraph!  75% done if it's 20 paragraphs.  What the what!  JUST GOT AA BRB    I WON THE BLIND IAB.  Alright, alright.  I guess.  I think I'm really bad at timing when it comes to QQ+.  You click raise within a 5 or 10 second period, normally.  Am I doin' it too quickly?  Too slow?  I feel like I'm givin' something away with this.  The point is who cares.  If I get 50 dollars, I'm gonna start raising to 8 cents instead of 6.  At least try it out for a while.  1/2 cent blinds, Be Tee Doubleyou.  Oh, I never told you-- We watched Dat Phan in Comedy Class!!!!!!!!!!!  Dat phan, turn off dat phan.  HAHAHEHIYA.
    Dat Phan is fine.  I think I got on the Dat Phan Is Terrible bandwagon because other comedians said it.  In retrospect, I don't have the energy to even care.  At least he doesn't drug people or steal jokes or is racist against other people.  He's perfectly fine.  Dat Phan is fine?  That don't sound right!  Dat Phan, turn off dat phan.  Anyway, crap nd crap.  Instead of calling it Last Comic Standing they should have called it Last Standup Standing You Know Because Of Puns?  The point is 17th paragraph.  Feels like I might go over 20.  I don't know yet, haven't had a dream about it.  What else.  AA IN BB BRB  FOLDED AROUND TO ME I AM BACK AGAIN.  Alright, alright.  Great.  I know what I can do for my poem!  Mike talking to Michael.  I'm neither of them, I'm the Mikist. 
    Whatever.  I was looking up my Hebrew Names online.  Turns out they mean things.  Who woulda guessed.  Sometimes I think, if I change my name for some reason, I can go by my two Hebrew names.  You know, for fun?  And for keeping tradition?  Especially if I convert to Christianity.  That'll throw people off.  I was reading some site of user-uploaded Riddles and Brain Teasers.  Terrible.  Just terrible.  Half of them don't make sense and the other half of them barely make sense.  I'm kinda spoiled, because my Dad had a few things he liked.  Here's one that only worked pre-computers-- What does IDK stand for?  He thought of it as a kid, because he was like, what's a riddle I can ask that will get people to answer correctly?!?!  Because there's things wrong with him.  So he goes, What does IDK stand for, and, ideally, the person says I don't Know.  And he goes Yes!
    The point is I have a weird family, what of it.  Jeez, 19th paragraph.  It just don't feel penultimate, not yet.  We're gettin' into the homestretch of semester where I actually have to do work.  Great, just great.  Let's see, I know four or five people in my classes names... that's enough to write a dyad, right?  One thing's for sure, though-- I now know what a dyad is.  And I probably won't forget it for a week.  Learning!  That's the teaching aspect in my Dad.  He wanted people to get it right.  Wonderful.  What does IDK stand for?  Fuck You And Your Questions!  Nope, close.  Keep guessin.  It could take a while, but given enough time, they'll get there.  Look, just say you don't know.  Just say the words, I don't know.
    Anyway, what teh what.  The point is my Dad coined the phrase IDK.  Great.  20th paragraphizzle.  After this, I can safely call it an entry.  Just wake up at 8 A.M. tomorrow.  Just do it.  Do the homeworks.  Just do it.  Why not.  I can do stuff.  I've done stuff before.  No reason to think I can't do stuff now and in the near future.  Anyway, who cares.  I'm writin' entry.  The fun will never stop!  Except when entry stops.  Then something else fun'll take its place.  Have we learnt nothing from Daniel Johnston Album Titles?  Hopefully.  If we did learn something, we were probably doing it wrong.  Huh?  That'll show you.  I accidentally looked at the sun today.  Oh well, live and learn.  I have a memory of being nine or ten and staring at the sun, just because people told me I couldn't.  I'll show you what I can and cannot do!  And that corresponds almost directly to when I started needing glasses.
    That's me, alright.  I can write a screenplay.  I know words.  A lot of them, at least.  I know how to use Courier New.  I'm all about Courier New.  Here, this is Courier New. 21st paragraph.  Now the question becomes, when will I eat dinner.  And when will this entry end.  And some other questions that aren't coming to mind right now.  Well, just busted in poker.  Might deposit tonight after talking it over with Parents.  Gotta do something.  That isn't work.  Work can wait.  I got something to do!  Anyway, this'll be the last paragraph.  That seems just about right.  What else is going on.  I don't know.  I'll see ya later.

-6:04 P.M.

Monday, November 21, 2016

I've Had It Up To Here With Vending Machines!

    And that's the highest place I can go.  The title.  Having something up to here with here being the title, only the date is higher than that.  The point is what else and crap.  Played the song for Poetry Class.  Coulda gone better, coulda gone worse.  It made the Professor laugh, in a positive way.  I got a hesitant smattering of applause.  The point is I just laid down some new crunchy instrumental and hoping he lets me do another song for the poem due tomorrow which would be workshopped on Wednesday.  Probably not.  I think in the e-mail asking him, I said, Dude, I totally understand if not.  No hard feelings broseph.  The point is what else and crap.  This is a possible three-time-in-a-lifetime chance to force people to listen to my songs.  Gotta make the most of it.
    Also, I could come away from this semester with 4-12 songs, that's an album right there.  Poetry Teacher should be proud of that being inspired.  In forty years, when people discover my terrible music, they're gonna think, this is so terrible its great.  Just needs time to mature to that point, like a fine wine.  Or a crappy wine which people think is great.  Something like that.  I better start getting to work on that time capsule.  If not me, who.  If not now, why.  If not what, then where.  What else is going on.  I have it on good authority that Thanksgiving this week.  So much to be Thankful for this year.  Well, if we're White Nationalists, at least.  I can assume most of us aren't.  There might be one or two but they don't really get it anyway.  They just love the background of this month and the font color of other months.
    White Nationalists hate going to sleep because when they close their eyes they get filled with rage.  What else is going on.  I'm thinking about getting Lasik Eye Surgery.  But I'm worried there'll be times, Man, can't I just see things blurry for ten minutes?  I don't wanna commit to perfect eyesight all of the time.  Because there's things wrong with me and whatnot.  Either way, poem is due tomorrow afternoon.  Great, just great.   I have less than 24 hours to write this poem.  And I have it on good authority that 24 hours is a day.  Most of the time.  Also, a broken clock is right once a day sometimes.  Sometimes three times a day.  Why not give 'em credit for 3 times a day, seems like we should be rounding up.  Rounding it makes it 2 times uniformly.  Not the way I round it!  Not the way I round it.
    Great.  Also, if a clock is broken by not having the hour or minute hands, it's never right.  Or always right.  It doesn't suggest a wrong time, so it's right in the fact that it is a clock.  Sort of.  In some respects.  Anyway, what the Hell am I talking about.  I get paranoid when I come to class very early and I am logically the only one there.  What if class was canceled?  Then I look like a fool for showing up.  Plus, wasting my time.  It's even worse if its the Poetry Class, because all the teachers I've had camp out on that floor.  No class going on, suddenly I'm invading people's privacy, and I'm a stalker.  I don't wanna be a stalker.  That's a negative thing to be.
    Great.  What paragraph is this.  Fifth.  Wonderful.  I have roughly three and a half weeks to write my short story.  Really should get started this weekend.  Gotta start with the title.  What to title it.  No Hard Feelings Broseph!  And then work backward from there and write a story about a man named Broseph and why there shouldn't be hard feelings in his mind and heart.  Well, halfway through that story now.  The premise is half the battle.  Anyway, crap and crap.  Thanksgiving.  We have three people eating turkey, and a fourth who is a vegetarian, yet my parents insist on buying the whole she-bang special which would force us to eat for two weeks to finish it.  Whatta waste.  Let's just get individual dinners and be happy with that.  I guess its part of the tradition to overspend and get way too much food.  Without that, is it really Thanksgiving?
    Why do you think the Pilgrims shared with the American Indians.  They happened to have extra.  They only had enough for themselves, then fuck those guys.  Figured it would be a good PR move and it didn't cost them a dime.  Anyway, what else and crap.  I have it on good authority Native Americans brought some food to the table, as well.  They had extra, too.  I'm standing by this hypothesis, I'm pot committed at this point.  I must have said this before here because it's one of my core beliefs-- Weird Al blew it by making the parody song Canadian Idiot.  He should have done American Indian.  Saying  Don't wanna be an American Indian might be construed as offensive.  Great, just great.
    Anyway, seventh paragraph.  I have lots of ideas for alternate Weird Al Parody songs.  Like that one.  And a second or third I can't remember.  The point is what else.  Christmas scheduled at my Aunt and Uncle's house.  That's great, they're aces.  And I'm around people who are forced to talk to me and treat me congenially.  Suckers.  Anyway.  So, Mike, What Have You Been Up To?  Yes!  That'll throw them for a loop.  Yeesh.  What else and crap.  Sold a cigarette for a dollar.  That's great.  Apparently Baseball is going on.  Cespedes is gonna decide where to play soon.  I hope The Mets.  They're the team I root for in baseball and he is a quality baseballer so that's the conclusion of how to feel I reached.  If I was a first baseman I'd legally change my name to Whose.  That'll get people doubting the choices you make in life.
    What the what.  Why do I want to throw people for loops.  Doesn't seem right.  Anyway, great.  Maybe I'll do the Abbott and Costello riff tomorrow morning.  It was due roughly six years ago.  About time.  My Dad bought me Birch Beer soda because they were out of Orange and he got me a huge selection of other diet sodas.  Too spicy!  It's like root beer with a big extra kick.  I can manage finishing it, but I'm not happy about it.  The whole premise of Christmas With The Cranks is terrible.  The first hour, they don't wanna do Christmas.  Then everybody hates them.  The second hour, on Christmas Eve, they find out their daughter is coming home.  Now they have to rush with the entire neighborhood to fake having a party for their daughter.  They couldn't just go, Actually, we're not having a party this year.  Then their kid would go, Oh, okay.
    The point is great.  What else and crap.  Apparently it was based on a John Grisham book.  Sounds about right.  Hey, they're cranky because they don't wanna do Christmas.  And their name is The Kranks!  Brilliant!  I don't care.  It's not worth thinking about anymore.  What about cranking something up, does that apply here?  Also, Is cranking something up a thing?  You know what I'm talkin' about.  Yeesh.  The point is poor Jamie Lee Curtis, Tim Allen, and Dan Aykroyd.  Well, Jamie Lee Curtis and Dan Aykroyd.  Tim Allen had it comin'.  That's how I feel.  Anyway, crap and crap.  Also, each song gets progressively better.  I can't in good conscious call The Raven II a song.  This last one was indisputably a song.  The next one will be a mediocre song!  If there is a next one.  We'll see how this situation develops.
    Crap and crap.  Tenth paragraph.  Sure, why not.  Really try to Poetisize the lyrics this time around.  I owe it to my legion of fan.  My Professor used the word clunker today.  I'm on board with that.  What else is going on.  Just hit a wall here in the tenth paragraph.  Roughly halfway through the entry hopefully.  Let's see, words, words.  I'm starting to see more people getting on the bus in wheelchairs.  Good for them.  A society can be judged by how many disabled people are taking public transportation.  Physically disabled.  Mentally disabled people, we're all about riding public transportation.  Maybe you've seen us. 
    Anyway, Huh?  I'm a little self conscious on what to do while playing my song on my computer for people.  I've sort of settled on a hazy stare into the table.  Nothin' wrong with that.  Eleventh paragraph.  Let's get this show goin'.  Ya'll heard about comedy?  Let me tell you, then.  It's a thing I aspire to.  That settles that.  Yeesh.  Crap and crap.  Ya'll want a terrible chord progression with a mediocre riff that suggests melody to ya?  I'm yer man.  Except only maybe once a week.  I got other responsibilities too, Jack.  Like lying in bed.  Thinking about where I went wrong.
    Anyway, twelfth paragraph.  That'll show 'em, that'll show all of 'em.  Apparently Trump is gonna keep doing evil things.  I actually thought for a day or two after the election, Well, he was just doing that to get elected, hopefully.  He might not be that terrible in office.  Well, I don't feel that way anymore.  If anything, he'll be more evil.  That's what I get for giving someone a forty eight hour window consideration that they won't be evil.  I've been burned once, now.  Burn me twice, shame on me.  What else is going on.  Yesterday, I brought a flame from a lighter to touch my toe nail.  Just to see what would happen.  That sums my life up and whatnot.
    Yeesh.  Spoiler Alert-- it hurt a little bit and then it went away.  What else and crap.  I say thank you when I get on a bus behind a wheelchair person.  Not for me, I'm just thanking him for his good service in aiding that escapade.  Hey, that bus driver, good guy.  Sure its his job, but I can tell he likes helping people.  The point is crap and crap.  Making music that amuses only me is fine 90% of the time.  Then when you're forced to listen to it surrounded by people also listening to it, you realize, this ain't so amusing anymore.  It was still a little bit.  Just for the novelty of it and whatnot.  Crap and crap.  During the break between Fall and Winter class, I'm thinkin' about going to the music open mic I've gone to a few times.  Really get involved in the community and whatnot.  The community of people who want to play their two songs and could give a fig about everything else being played.
    Which normally includes me.  Now, I feel like, I could listen to some other crappy musicians.  Why not.  The point is Great.  Fourteenth paragraph.  We do it Hardcore.  I don't know who we is.  Probably someone else and me.  Usually what We means.  Half the time I sell a cigarette or give one away I offer them the choice of Newport or Camel Blue.  Because I combine them in the pack I take with me throughout the day.  Always Newport.  No one likes Camel Blue.  That's an observation I noticed and felt it was important to share.  The majority of my Dose of Comedy for the week is off.  Conan's off this week.  SNL is off this week.  That's about it.  At least, that's according to my DVR.  I trust my DVR.  No reason not to.
    I'm happy that we released ourselves from the tyranny of the term Tivo'ing something.  Never felt quite right saying I Tivo'd something when I have a DVR.  Now it's okay to say DVR.  Thank God.  These are the real issues.  Fifteenth paragraph.  Knockin' it out of the park and whatnot.  We're supposed to submit a Proposal for the Comedy Class Paper.  At this rate, I might have that ready three or four days before the paper itself is due.  And I'm not doin' a paper.  I'm doin a story.  That'll show him.  In the e-mail I got back from him when I asked if I could do a story, he was like, I encourage you to try... then at the end he goes, If you need a reality check, come see me.  Like I don't have it in me to write a story.  I'm not livin' in reality.  Well let me tell you something mister-- I might not be living in reality, but I can write the fuck out of a short comedy story!  Probably.  I haven't done it yet.  Better consult with Professor about a reality check.
    That'll show me, that'll show all of me.  Can I call the story All Over You.  Seems stupid to waste such a quality title, gotta fit it in somewhere.  That can be my new song!  I don't have lyrics yet, why not.  People love song titles.  I mean, huh, wha, Huh?  I titled the song due today The Ballad of Shut Up.  In the lyrics it's said The Ballad of Shut The Fuck Up.  I figured dropping The Fuck in the title was the classy way to go.  But then when I was introducing it in class, I kept the The Fuck in the title.  Felt weird saying it without it.  Oh well, live and learn, right?  One would imagine. 
    Crap and crap.  There was a new Simpsons yesterday that I haven't watched.  I enjoy it.  A little too colorful for me, thouhg.  I usually exclusively watch movies in black and white.  Or I would, if I could.  That should be an option on your T.V.  I'd use that every now and then for amusement purposes.  Before each Poetry class, we have a topic that we need to discuss with a classmate for a minute.  A minute with one answering the topic to our classmate, another minute for them responding with their answer.  Today was A Place We'd Like To Visit.  I started with I'd like to visit London, I speak the language already... and then I was like, Fuck it, I'd go to Disney World.  I was embarrassed to say it originally, but what the fuck do I care.  I wanna go to Disney World!
    That's how that goes for some reason.  Eighteenth paragraph.  I guess it might go a little over 20.  We'll see how this situation develops.  I can see it going a precise 20.  Anyway, crap and crap.  I've been to Disney World.  That's how I know its so great.  Plus, in Epcot Center, they have a Englandland, where they speak English, too.  Best of both worlds.  The Disney World and the False Dream Vacation World.  I have it on good authority that its a small world afterall.  Ya'll know how I feel about that.  I talked about it a month or so ago.  All the smallness make it feel like a big world.  Big compared to small.  Small world.  Big.  Small.  Big.  Big.  Big.  Small.  World. 
    That's one way to finish paragraphs quickly.  What else is crappening.  I need to do the poem tonight either way.  I got class next morning, Jack.  The Comedy Class Teacher got back to me less than 5 minutes after I e-mailed him with Short Story Idea.  So far it's been an hour and a half roughly since I e-mailed Poetry Teacher.  That's goin in the Teacher Evaluation.  Give him a check plus instead of a check plus plus, see how he likes it!  That'll learn him.  Things being graded on a scale from Check Minus to Seven.  Snort.  I remember saying that and its making me laugh all over again!
    What else and crap.  See, this is the 20th paragraph already.  I got between 2 and 3 to 25 more in me.  Let's say 2 or 3.  We can say whatever we want, this is a safe space.  I'm terrified of getting the response e-mail.  What if he goes, No, You Can't Do That, This Is Poetry Class, Asshole, And I Demand Poetry!  Also, Fuck You For Even Thinking You Could Write A Song.  You're On My Shit List Buddy Boy.  Good chance that's how the e-mail might play out.  I get paranoid about getting e-mails back all the time.  It's scary, you don't know what they're gonna say.  That's how that goes.  I'm glad I don't have friends I could text with.  That'd be horrifying.
    Yeesh.  21st Paragraph Fox.  Man, imagine if I knock that short story out of the park.  I'm talking real B+ to A- work.  I'd be real happy with that, mmmhmm.  I just watched Sling Blade yesterday.  Billy Bob Thornton goin' mmm a lot.  Good movie.  The point is what else and crap.  That's two Billy Bob Thornton movies this last week.  And that's not even counting me reading the title School for Scoundrels and not being motivated enough to watching it.  Of course it's not counting that, why would you count that?  Get off my website!  How dare you and what not.  Billy Bob Thornton is number 000000671 on IMDB web pages.  That's pretty good.  You're in the top 1000, you're doin' pretty good for himself.  Oh, Also!  I thought about the movie Armageddon while watching Sling Blade.  That's gotta count for something, right?
    What else is crap.  I wonder what movie I'll think about while watching another movie tonight.  I can't wait to find out.  The point is crap and crap.  22nd paragraph.  Still goin' strong.  Me, at least.  You're probably burnt out from this bullshit.  A picture is worth a thousand words.  Especially when it's a picture of a thousand words.  Then it's right on, nailed it.  Or would that be worth a million words.  Something to think about.  Each word is a sub-picture.  Anyway, what the what.  All this time I was thinking it was Billy Bob Thorton.  Turns out there's an N in there.  I ain't tellin' tales out of school, look it up for yourself if you doubt me.
    Anyway, crap and crap.  Bringing raisins to class tomorrow.  Didn't feel like buying a dozen pack of small raisin boxes.  Just gonna bring some raisins loose in a plastic bag.  You know, School Work?  When I went to the urinal before class today, there was my teacher from last fall using the one next to mine.  Didn't know what to do.  I knew I couldn't talk to him.  That would be breaking the rules of bro-ettiquite.  Then later on I saw him while waiting for class and was like, Hey, and he just ignored me.  In retrospect, maybe that wasn't my teacher.  Probably was, though.  I just said the Retrospecting for humor.  Well, there's a 20% chance he wasn't my teacher.  Probably was, though.  Luckily it sometimes takes me a long time to get goin' at the urinal so I was there while he finished, washed his hands, and blew dry them. 
    I knew not having an impressive urination stream would start paying off sooner or later.  Hopefully Teacher gets back to me tonight.  Writing a poem and writing lyrics for a song are mighty different.  Songs are all about clichés.  Poems are all about not clichés.  And Comedy is all about bullshit.  Those are some rules I've picked up in my approaching 28 years on this planet.  Astronauts can't say that.  They have to go, I'm 64 years old, spent a year in space... spent 63 years on this planet.  This is going to become more and more relevant as we start to see civilians going to outer space.  24th paragraph.  Seems like 25 is right on.
    So I got that going for me.  May continue when this paragraph is over, may not.  I've narrowed it down to those two things.  Anyway.  I shaved this weekend without my Parents even telling me to.  %TalkAboutAHeroInAction.  C'mon, talk about him.  He's doing heroics!  In actionville!  The point is yeesh.  Gotta write a poem for Wednesday as a seperate assignment about an animal.  My first thought was My Pet Cat.  Because I used to have a Pet Cat.  Not very complicated stuff there.  Then I thought about writing a poem about the imaginary possible pet Trump might have in the White House.  Then I thought I guess I could do that if I think of somethin' good.  Then I thought, I don't have time to think about this poem, I got one due tomorrow that's gonna be workshopped for twenty minutes in class!
    The point is I was thinking a lot of things for a good 20 minute portion of the day.  I wanna re-listen to the instrumental I laid down before this entry.  Will it be good?  Bad?  Good enough?  I'm leaning towards good enough.  I've built my entire life around the concept of Good Enough.  I started a new paragraph without even realizing it.  That settles that.  The point is what else is crap.  I don't like this Keystone Pipeline debate.  On the one hand, I like the Environment.  On the other hand, Native Americans?  I could take 'em or leave 'em.  It's funny because no Native Americans read this website!  Let's talk crap about them while no one's looking.
    No goin' back from that riff.  Pretty sure I've never met an American Indian.  At least not enough to talk to one.  I'm sure I've encountered one in my travels.  I remember I had to rent a movie for school from the library which was about American Indians.  A real movie, a piece of fiction, not some documentary.  It was called Smoke Signals and the main thing I remember is they keep talking up one of the characters soda bread.  Like this guy's Mom, she makes the best soda bread.  Good to know.  Now I know American Indians are just like us.  I really like Soda and I really like bread.  I'd never think to put them together, but I'll consider it in the future!
    The point is what the what.  28th paragraph.  I'm settin' a cap at 30.  Unless I really wanna go over it.  I feel like I could close this up with three more paragraphs.  I just saw I got an e-mail and I panicked until I saw it was a standard e-mail from Queens College about some bullshit.  That was a close one, though.  I'm exhausted from this.  Usually it doesn't register, but I'm thinking about writing a song within the next few hours, seems like a lot.  Anyway.  I can eat dinner in between.  Power up.  Vending Machine that ate my quarters doesn't even accept dollars anymore.  I tried forcing a dollar into it every which way and it just was havin' none of it.
    Oh well.  Now I know for Future.  Can't get that stupid chorus from Song I Did out of my head.  Stupid song, I hate it so much.  Gotta write another even stupider song to put it out of my memory.  I don't know. Two more paragraphs to go.  Then I'm done.  For today.  Not tomorrow.  Then we get to have fun all over again most likely.  I never get jokes stuck in my head.  Score one for comedy.  Renting movies from the library?  That's what homeless people do.  Well, it was for school.  It wasn't my idea, I can guarantee you that.  Well, what else.  Eatin' when this is over.  Power Up.  Hopefully a reply within an hour so I know what I'm doin'. 
    Last paragraph.  We did it!  I don't know.  Crap and crap.  I get to re-listen to the instrumental.  That'll raise my spirits.  Or lower them.  Who can say for sure.  Not me.  The point is what else.  I don't know.  Jeez.  Still scared about getting that e-mail.  I don't like uncertainties and then finding out with certainty the result of those uncertainties.  Gotta be a name for that phobia, right?  I'll see ya later.

-6:52 P.M.

Thursday, November 16, 2016

I'm Back For Some Reason!

    Just laid down some tasty instrumental for my Poetry Song.  Chord progression roughly like what I talked about.  Some muckin' around riffs over it.  Real crowd pleaser.  I'm the crowd, me.  I'm pleased.  What else is going on.  About 2 minutes 40 seconds.  Perfect length and whatnot.  Now the goal is to press some crunchy vocals and I'm all set.  I'm not sure if the song has to be a ballad.  He gave the impression it doesn't.  But I should make it a ballad just to be sure.  Also, what's a ballad.  It's like a thing about something.  Right?  That explains that.  I'm not ashamed to say I used a pick while playing the guitar.  I'm comfortable with that.  When I was a kid, using a pick on acoustic guitar was taking the easy way out.  I went through months of getting blisters on my fingers like a real rock 'n roller. 
    The point is what else.  Watched some George Carlin today in Comedy Class.  I like him.  He's a good comedian.  The things he says make me laugh.  That explains that.  Three and a half day weekend!  That'll show you, that'll show all of you.  I can make the song a ballad.  Just make the title The Ballad of something-or-something and its a ballad.  That settles that.  How about The Raven Part III: Here We Go Again!  How about eh.  What else is going on.  I'm writing an entry for some reason.  You know, out of habit?  That sort of thing.  I like drawing stick figures in my notebook.  It's a step up from drawing boxes.  Yeesh.  I went through class yesterday without a beverage.  I had no dollar dollar bills yall, no quarters, and vending machine didn't accept my credit card.  Had to drink water out of the sink in the bathroom like an animal!  Then I left the bathroom and they had a water fountain right outside.  Felt like a real chump.
    No one must know.  Except for you!  Great.  I'm not ashamed to drink out of the sink.  It's the same water.  It all comes out in the wash. Gives me a good idea, drink from laundry machine.  Or, in colloquial terms, washing machine.  You people with your names for things.  I'll never understand it!  This is only the third paragraph.  That's no good.  Ballad of Gandhi-- Does Anyone Remember Gandhi?  Nah.  The song is too upbeat for that.  MayMaybe that's good, pair upbeat with serious lyrics.  It's all about finding a balance you morons.  Gandhi was a guy/Everybody liked/No one knows why/He carried a scythe/Wait that was the grim reaper/I take back what I said/But Gandhi's still a sleeper/By that I mean he's dead.
    That's one way to go.  Anyway, crap and crap.  Don't be hatin'.  I have a Chicken Pot Pie for dinner tonight.  That'll show 'em, that'll show all of 'em.  I did like the title All Over You.  But that's not a ballad.  Sure it is.  It's a ballad about you.  Being all over you.  Also, it makes you think.  All over you, like I'm advancing sexually on you, consensually one would imagine.  And it's like, I'm over you, like I don't crave your love and affection anymore.  Or it's like I'LL over you, in the sense that I'm going to kill you, consensually one would hope.  It's a real brain buster.  The Ballad of Female First Name and Female Second Name.  That's the way to go if you're writing a ballad.  Not a first and last name.  Two female names.  Girls with two first names are disproportionably referenced in song titles.  You know, for rhythm in the title and crap?
    That's how that goes one would imagine.  Fifth paragraph.  Lost the 88 cents I had in Poker Bankroll.  Now I have more free time to drink alcohol uninterrupted by also be playin poker.  Ballads can be upbeat.  They can be whatever you want it to be.  That's how I feel.  I checked Internet and ballads are about someone you love.  My already existing ballad was about me.  That sums that up.  You've got to learn to love yourself before you can love anyone else.  That doesn't sound right.  I say, if you don't love yourself, that makes you love the other person even more!  Cracked that code.  That's not a code crackin', that's refuting the code!
    Yeah, but, well, I, uh... Wait, whaaaaaat.  Nailed it.  What else is going on.  Turns out my guitar was tuned a step plus a quarter step down.  That's no good.  Those aren't even real notes.  Sounds inventive to me.  Except for how the guitar sounded.  Sounded like shit to me.  The point is Let's Return To Castle Wolfenstein.  What happens in Castle Wolfenstein stays in Castle Wolfenstein.  Hopefully, at least.  There's zombies and Nazi Monsters in there.  Gotta keep it contained.  Donald Trump is gonna turn America into one big Castle Wolfenstein.  Except this time there's no escape.  Even if you play for 20 hours and get past all 12 levels.
    I say, you get past 6 or 7 levels in life, you made it pretty far.  That's how I feel.  In the original Mario, that's beating the game.  I believe it had seven levels.  I remember my Dad telling me that he had second cousins calling him up for advice on how to win Mario.  You have to make some amazing leap at the end or something.  And he had done it.  And now people demanded answers.  That's my bloodline, that's how that goes.  Seventh paragraph.  Paragraphs are levels.  Don't get much more Level than Paragraph.  Songs in music albums are levels.  Lots of levels in our every day lives that we're not even appreciating.  Stairs.  Stairs are levels, sure.
    Anyway, what the what.  I should shave this weekend for Strategy.  I'm guesin' its easier to shave when the hair is shorter.  Time to put that hypothesis into action and see what's what.  Thinking about how Teacher was Segregating Comedy gave me some inspiration for the short story.  I can write about my identity as a comedian, make some goofballs and funnybones about how Idiocy should be a category, see where that takes me.  I could also talk about how being a comedian is my identity in and of itself.  That'll show 'em, that'll show all of 'em.  Crap and crap, what else is going on.  I could talk about lying in bed, wondering about where I went wrong with my life, as more or less my main use of free time.  Good to start spit-ballin' now, ahead of time.
    Anyway, what else.  At this point I have only four weeks to write this crap.  Oh well.  What else is crap and whatnot.  Just remembered to take my second Ritalin.  Time to kick this entry into overdrive.  I want to get a bicycle and go I'm over drive.  All over drive.  Remember that movie Sex Drive?  Yeah, me neither.  Nailed it.  Hey, let's make Road Trip again, but we need to come up with a new title.  That's how that might have gone assuming Sex Drive was about what I imagine it was about.  Watched some Whoopi Goldberg today.  I've got nothing more to say about that.  Anyway.  Ninth paragraph, huh.  I guess we're halfway through the entry I'm guessin.
    Crap and crap.  I'm no comedian.  I'm just a jerk writing crap.  Mindset I need to get into when writing short story.  Sure, I know I'm great, but the character doesn't have to.  You know, for conflict and crap?  Turns out I'm not only great at comedy but at drama, as well.  Who woulda thunk it, am I right?  Anyway, what the what.  A lot of girls in ballads second names' are Jane.  Who am I to argue.  I'll have the second name Jane, gotta keep the tradition alive.  I've never met anyone named Jane.  Not 100% sure it's a real name.  That's how I feel.  Maybe it's short for Janeeffer.  That's the quality of humor you've come to expect from crazysheet.
    That's not good at all.  Oh well, crap and crap.  I've got other stuff to do.  I can write and record the lyrics today and be a Productive.  Could send in my Abbott and Costello Riff.  Send in the Proposal I need to send in which talks about what I'm gonna write about for the short story I'm doin'.  Well, maybe the first one.  I'll do some lyricizing, sure.  Need a few more paragraphs and whatnot.  This is the eleventh.  No reason I can't make 20.  Except that I don't feel like it.  That's a good reason.  We'll see how this plays out.  Anyway, crap the crap.  Let's see, comedy, comedy.   Teacher was half-heartedly ragging on Bill Cosby for doing generic comedy instead of black comedy.  That's the problem you get when you start segregating comedy.  You turn into an asshole.
    I don't know.  He started ragging on him, but eventually gave the impression it's not bad, just different, than doing black comedy.  He did get there, I'll give him that.  I wouldn't wanna be forced to do Agnostic Jew comedy.  That's no good at all.  What else.  Also, he introduced George Carlin as doing Irish Comedy.  Whatta bullshit.  If anything, it's Catholic Comedy in general.  He does have bits I remember being about being raised Catholic and crap.  No bits about Irishocity that I could remember, though.  The point is it's still a great class to take.  Anyway, crap and crap.  The next paragraph is the 13th.  That's where I'm at.  Not even counting where I'm at, looking a paragraph ahead.
    Anyway, what the what.  Watched some legitimate Irish comic, from Ireland in class, I don't remember his name, but I remember he was wearing a funny suit.  That's my take away from this last class.  We were talking about the potato famine, and Professor was like, potatoes come from America! and I was like, wait, whaaaaat.  I'm gonna re-appropriate wait, whaaaat, for my own purposes after hearing it on The Best Show.  I'm takin' over all these things.  I hate them so much and Wait, whaaaat, and a third or fourth thing that I don't remember.  I've been writing blobs of paragraphs for years and it's about time my website started acted like The Blob from movies.
    Anyway, what else.  Fuggedaboutit.  I don't know.  Who cares.  Besides me, I mean.  What else is going on. Don't Sound Like Ya Do!, I've used that recently too, from The Best Show.  The point is I'm gonna stop with all that crap.  Except for I hate them so much.  That ones for keepin'.  Frontpage doesn't recognize reappropriation as a word.  Am I just thinking of the word Appropriate.  Who knows for sure.  Not me.  I'm just here to create blobs of paragraphs.  I watched the first thirty minutes of American Gangster yesterday.  This is a movie for some reason?  Nothin new there.  Anyway.  I think the reason I don't go to see movies in the theater anymore is because we started getting Tostitos from the Super Market, and I had trained my body to associate the joy of watching movies in theaters with eating the nachos in theaters and now I can eat nachos at home.
    Good for me.  I do miss getting new pairs of 3-D glasses, though.  The Ballad of the imaginary song All Over You.  That's one way to go if I don't mind people being confirmed about my idiocy and possible mental illness.  The point is I shuld really try to get some adequate lyrics instead of mediocre.  Gotta knock this out of the park, this time it counts.  Other people will be forced to actually listen to it.  It's a once in a lifetime opportunity and I gotta make the most of it.  I'm in love with something Jane/She's in my heart and takes away the pain... That's no good.  The second line.  I'm in love with something Jane, that's gold, gotta stick with that.
    Anyway.  Sixteenth paragraph.  Now we're gettin' into a groove and whatnot.  You know a song is upbeat when the chords go up on the guitar.  E to F#.  A to B.  That's unequivocally up.  Hey, my band is called The Uppers!  Never made that connection until right now.  I just called it The Uppers because I found while listening to my own music it gives me a little bit of a lift.  Like a really, really tame, tame drug.  What else is going on.  The Uppers is a fine band name, it's served me well just fine.  But I'm really proud of making up the term Utility Rock for the kind of music I play.  I thought of it as a joke at first, and would just say it half-heartedly if someone asked me what kind of music it is, if I'd even say it at all.  From now on, I'm committing to it.  It's really grown on me.
    My main association is when you have a baseball team, the utility players are the guys on the bench who can play multiple positions.  I'm all about that.  That didn't come out right.  Probably not.  The point is what else and crap.  Also it's rock that can pay the utilities!  Except for not.  I've given me a lot to think about.  Seventeenth paragraph.  My favorite teens are fourteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, and nineteen.  Because the first syllable is what the digit is.  When I started that riff, I was only thinking of fourteen and sixteen.  Turns out 17-19 also apply.  Now I don't like it as much.  If more than half of the teens are like that, who cares.
    The good news is Huh?  Who knows how long this'll be.  I'm in a groove of bullshit crapdom now, boy.  Every now and then I'll google Utility Rock to see if I have any brethren.  It wouldn't be shocking to see if I had a counterpart whose as creative as I am somewhere.  I mean, they're gonna keep up making new terms for styles of music.  It's only a matter of time.  I like Utility Rock because it's like, it's not Punk, it's not Indie, it's not a third or fourth thing... it's Utility Rock.  Like I said, the term really grew on me.  These are the real issues?  Probably not.  Oh well.  What do you call a band that's like Led Zeppelin or AC/DC.  You can't call it Classic Rock.  It's that style of music, but it's new.  Not classic.  These are the things that keep me up at night.
    That and wondering about where I went wrong.  Nineteenth paragraph.  Coca-Cola Classic.  Where do you get off naming your soda Classic.  This isn't a fine wine.  It's cola.  Get off your high horse and whatnot.  Yeah, I know getting off a high horse is harder than getting off a regular horse, so what, you still gotta do it.  How'd you get on the high horse in the first place.  Well, what else.  Doin' the song on acoustic instead of electric means I can't force myself to using a drum loop.  I do that with most my electric songs these days (I haven't written an electric song in over a year), and I don't know.  Clunks it up a bit, but particularly helps with the composition.  I could take it out after finishing the song, but I leave it in, just for funzies.
    What else.  I feel like now with the longer entries, I talk more about my life and bullshit.  That's okay.  It's remained more or less proportional, that's what counts.  20th paragraph.  Probably gonna keep writing after this one.  The point is What Else And Crap.  Oh, right.  Still have to do my one good thing for the week.  Hmm, let's see.  Mail Anthrax to my congressman?  Wait, no, scratch that.  That's no good.  Especially since I'm pretty sure I'm on the same side as my congressman.  It's a real double negative.  What, no it isn't.  It has nothing to do with double negatives.  Sure it does.  It's a negative thing.  And there was a second negative thing.  Double negative.
    Yeesh.  Pretty sure Holemand Security can lock me up for that paragraph.  Ha.  Holemand.  We have fun here at Crazysheet, don't we?  Right?  Maybe?  What Else Is Going On?  Haven't had to take a Pepcid in a while.  Maybe twice over the last two or three weeks.  That's a relief.  Gotta imagine taking that every day would be a double negative, right?  What else is going on.  Three and a Half weeks till I'm assuming I'll get money on Poker.  It's possible I guess my brother'll be like, No, not gonna do that.  You can't withdraw easily so its a waste.  And I'll be like, I don't care about withdrawing easily, it's not to make money, it's to kill time!  And he'll be like, I don't know... and I'll be like Yes!  When you say I don't know I know you'll always say yes!
    That's how it plays out in my head, and remember, that's the worst case scenario.  Anyway, crap and crap.  22nd paragraph.  Let's get to some comedy and whatnot.  The Ballad of Give Me Money For Poker.  Put that into the Maybe Pile.  I could sure go for a Pepcid right now.  The point is what else.  I don't know.  A few paragraphs to go and whatnot.  Maybe 25, maybe 30, maybe another number.  I've narrowed it down to those three things.  I think it's pretty cool how 22/7 is almost Pi.  Really makes ya think.  That's a real thought I had.  22/7 almost being Pi.  It really makes me think.  What does it all mean, man. 
    It's a great batting average, too.  It's not the largest sample size but it's pretty good all things considered.  Sometimes I think about small sample batting averages and walks and on base percentage.  2/8 with one walk, that's about a good baseline for being productive.  .250 AVG with a .333 OBP?  You could be doing worse than that.  Yep, these are things I really think about.  What else is going on.  I don't know.  Think about slugging percentage, I'm not there yet.  To be honest, I'm not 100% on what makes a slugging percentage.  I have a pretty good idea.  Total bases and crap.  Double worth more than a single, Abbott worth more than a Costello, so on, that kind of crap.
    24th paragraph.  That's how that goes. Man my esophagus is killing me.  Maybe I have cancer in my esophagus.  Or my stomach.  Hopefully that would be a double negative.  Nailed it.  What else is going on and crap.  Is there a treatment for cancer where you give someone another kind of cancer and the cancers battle it out until they both die?  My guess?  Probably not.  Oh well, live and learn.  I gotta quit smoking.  What am I, an idiot?  Yep.  I'm givin' myself till 30, though.  Once I'm 30, definitely, time to quit.  I've got two more years of livin' it up, though.  What else is going on.  Get the gum.  I haven't chown gum in a while.  I only said that because I thought it in those exact words, and was like, Chown isn't a word, what fun! and typed it up based on that premise. 
    What else is going on.  What paragraph is it.  25th.  Alright.  That's pretty good.  Lotta paragraphs, no question about it.  Not quite way too much territory.  I mean, for you, sure.  For me, I'd read this the whole way through.  I know all the twists and turns its gonna take.  It's fun!  The point is the Democratic Party is in disarray and there's only one person who can bring order and hope-- that's right-- Tim Kaine.  When the world calls for a hero, Tim Kaine is the one who answers the call, we hope.  Or Joe Biden.  The internet sure seems to like him now that his eight year term as vice president is over.  You guys couldn't get on board eight years ago?  Too busy, hmm?  Way the suck, Internet.
    What else is going on.  I don't know.  Frontpage stopped forcing Italics on me again.  Seems like it's about 50/50 each entry whether I'm gonna be forced to write in Italics.  Great.  What else is going on and crap.  Weekend.  List of things to do-- Lyric, sing lyric, master song, upload to computer.  Edit Abbott and Costello riffs into one and send it to teacher.  Write Proposal based on what I'm gonna write for final paper/short story, send to teacher.  Print out other people's poems to worksho for Monday.  I think I covered everything.  Alright!  Let's do a Productive this weekend.  I'm due.  What else is going on.  I don't know.  Crap and crap.
    Anyway.  Bought into the daily 10 cent tournament with my Poker Points.  That's great, just great.  What else is great and whatnot.  27th paragraph.  Wonderful.  I'm self concious about coughing outside while I'm smoking a cigarette.  I just imagine some pedestrian being exposed to this scene and thinking, why is this guy smoking a cigarette, he's coughing!  Put it out!  Also, I can't reach that conclusion myself.  I need an imaginary pedestrian to get there.  But I'm not gonna get rid of this cigarette.  I'm smoking this cigarette and that's all there is to it.  Whose gonna stop me, you?  You don't have the gall.  The point is what else is going on.
    28th paragraph.  Gettin' up there.  What else is going on.  I don't know.  Kinda wanna gamble in this tourney, either double or triple up or bust.  Don't feel like it.  Just called an all in for most my chips with JKo, other guy had pocket 3s, I lost.  Great.  That's what I wanted I guess.  Still need to lose the rest, though.  Which is fine.  I got two and a half paragraphs to go, that should sync up nicely.  What else is going on and crap.  Get to re-listen to the crap I recorded to see if it holds up a few hours later.  Maybe it will.  We'll see!  I think it's possible Trump said he'd pick Steve Bannon only to be like, When you see how bad this guy is, you'll forget how bad I am!  If I get rid of him, suddenly I'm not so bad, am I?
    I don't really think that.  I just think Trump is a hateful power hungry idiot and picked Bannon on those terms.  Gotta think something.  What else is going on.  Alright, busted in that tourney.  A paragraph and a half to go.  Everything's coming into place.  Except for how there's a special free roll at 8.  Registration closes at 8:40, thuogh.  So I could take a break and buy in then.  Finish this entry in ten minutes, that's a fifty minute break.  That's pretty good.  Sitting is a pretty big workout and I need a break. 
    Anyway, final paragraph.  Whattado.  Finish watching American Gangster.  I'm invested in it now.  No turnin' back and whatnot.  What else and crap.  Gotta get a new Metrocard next week.  You know what that's like, right.  Probably.  Hmm, comedy, comedy.  Let's see.  I'll see ya later.

-7:47 P.M.
 

Wednesday, November 16, 2016

I've Never Heard Of So Many Plusses!

    Got a poem back today.  Check.  Plus.  Plus.  Plus.  That'll show you all for doubting me.  Next assignment is write a ballad or a song!  I'm a song person.  I already have a song called The Ballad of Uppy Magee.  In the spirit of giving, I'll write a new ballad!  That'll show them all for doubting me.  This time I'm actually gonna make it a song, not like that Raven II shit.  I just recorded singing to a continuous "A" chord, then deleted the A chord, and played random chords under the vocals.  Not even consistent random chords.  Just all over the place.  This time I'm gonna knock it out of the park.  You know, for Strategy?  There are girls in this class.  If I can trick them into thinking I'm talented, well, you know how that goes!!!
    Probably.  Goes nowhere.  Give yourself a Check Plus Plus Plus if that's what your conclusion was.  Also, The Raven II rhyme scheme was roughly based on the original Raven.  This time I can go crazy.  So far I've got one possible chord progression.  E F A B, with the chorus being D G.  Except all a step down.  Also, it's a pretty crappy chord progression.  I can do better one would imagine.  Maybe throw in a Bb in there.  Bb is my favorite chord.  Either that, or Cm.  These are the real issues.  Come up with some riff to go over the over the chords.  Riffs are great.  It's like a chord progression plus even more.  I'm also gonna try to have my guitar tuned.  For Strategy.
    What else is crap.  Gotta be acoustic guitar.  Still haven't gotten my electrics fixed.  I could use Effects on 8 Track to make acoustic sound electric.  That's kinda clunky, though.  Anyway, I'm excited.  At this stage, I can still imagine it'll be good!  What joy.  Anyway, let's get to some goofballs and funnybones.  There's no more Nathan's in School Cafeteria.  Whatta gip.  I used to know someone named Nathan.  True story.  Anyway, crap and crap.  Shorter entry today compared to yesterday.  One would hope.  I was looking at some Breigtbart headlines and boy are they insane.  I think Trump choosing this guy to be some guy whose really important is just his way of saying, Fuck You, I'm Gonna Do Whatever The Fuck I want.  We'll see how long that lasts.  Four years?  I said we'll see!
    As much as people were joking about how after this election, we're gonna go straight to covering the next one, we do need to think that way.  For Strategy.  John Kennedy said Let's Put a Man on the Moon this decade or something!  So now Progressives have to think Let's get a Progressive in the White House and House and Senate!  It's a long process but it's good to be goal oriented, right?  Can't just think Oh well, it's gonna be crap now for a really long time, I give up.  Let's get crackin' folks.  A good first step is collecting your own sand from the beach.  Anyway, what else.  These aren't goofballs and funnybones.  We'll get to that within four years.  We'll see!
    What the what.  It's a long process but if we're dedicated and aim for incremental progress and have long term goals as well, we just may be able to pull it off.  Whose we.  You know, us and crap?  Whatever.  The good news is I'm getting Hot Dogs for dinner anyway.  Screw you school cafeteria.  I thought of a few other funny foods. Cantaloupe.  Grapefruit.  That's all I got so far.  Anyway, what the what.  Four Loko.  Is that still a thing.  Livin' La Vida Loko.  Yep.  Anyway, crap and crap.  Livin' La Vida Loca was the first time I registered as a child, This song is a big thing in culture right now.  I think I approached that thought with One Week, but also Livin' La Vida Loca' was heavily played on the television.  I wanna say MTV. 
    Anyway, what the what.  One Week is about the book of Genesis, right?  One would imagine.  Crap and crap.  Sixth paragraph.  Alright!  Today's Wednesday or something.  I read about it in a calendar.  Frontpage seems to be loosening up on forcing me to write in italics.  Good.  I feel like I watched a movie recently where someone was doing a Bill Clinton impression after he won in 1992.  Wasn't Bad Santa.  Wasn't The Help.  Wasn't The Elephant Man.  I'll figure this out eventually, you can count on that.  Pretty sure it wasn't a commercial.  What The Hell else did I watch in the last two days.  He was on stage or something.  Doing a bad Bill Clinton.  I don't know why I'm so invested in figuring out what it was that I was watching.  For Strategy.  Now I'll know to never watch it again.
    Anyway, crap and crap.  Could it have been Walker Texas Ranger?  I was watching amalgamations of Walker Texas Ranger clips through Conan O Brian Clips.  I think that could be it.  Must be.  Didn't even have my favorites though.  The thing where there's a kid who jumps from a shelf or something because some guy told him he would catch him and then he doesn't catch him.  Walker Told Me I Have AIDS.  A third thing.  Anyway, crap and crap.  They must have had one or two writers specifically assigned jobs to watch every Walker Texas Ranger episode and mine it for clips.  I can't think of any other more efficient way.  Maybe they happened to have a writer who knew all about Walker Texas Ranger already and knew the entire series and each episode verbatim.  That's a strong possibility.  The important thing is Let's figure this one out.
    What the what.  Eighth paragraph.  The way my Professor is presenting us modern day humor is by showing us Jewish American Humor, African American Humor, Italian Humor, etc.  Essentially he's segregating humor.  Separate but equal.  I'm sure in his heart he thinks he's doing the right thing.  But this is the 21st century.  All Humor Matters.  Anyway, what else and crap.  I don't really have a problem with that.  Seems kind of logical when I think about it.  The point is What Else.  The set my humor would be in is Idiotic Humor.  It transcends ethnic groups but not intelligence levels.  One would imagine.  Or hope.  Or believe.  Or other stuff.  Crap and crap.  I guess it's pretty relevant.  Especially in the past, but even today, you were a Jew Comic, or a Black Comic, or whatever.  Whether that's good or bad.  Probably bad.  But maybe good.  Get off my back about it, I said We'll See!
    Anyway.  Started watching a bit of old Def Comedy Jams.  Could that be where I saw the Bill Clint--- no, that was a white guy.  Or maybe it was a black guy but his impression was so good I believed he was white.  Lots of things to consider.  I've given me a lot to think about.  I'm sick of people in my class talking about me while workshopping other people's poems.  The standard comment is something like, Well, when we see a Mike poem, we know it's a Mike poem... usually along those lines.  How dare you.  These poems I've been handing in are shitty.  I don't want to be associated with that crap.  Also, How Dare You.  Does give me a jolt for people to talk about me, though.  I just sort of nod and smile.  That'll placate them.
    What else and crap.  Tenth paragraph.  What the what.  The point is I still need to do something good this week.  What if I sign ten petitions?  Twenty?  How many petitions add up to one good thing.  These are the questions that keep me up at night.  What else is going on.  Speaking of pet-itions, I was thinking about the word Pet.  Pets are our pets, the animals we pet.  Which came first.  Did we have the noun Pets, we call these animals that live with us our pets, and that was expanded to the term we use for touching them nicely?  Or the other way around.  We were all about petting things, and thought, hey, we pet these animals that live with us, lets call them pets!  These are the real issues for some reason.
    Crap and crap.  I'm leaning towards the verb coming first, but I just don't know.  Just don't know.  The song doesn't even have to be a ballad, which is my interpretation of the assignment.  Just write a song.  I can do that.  I'll write a song all over you.  What the what.  Note to self-- put All Over You in the possible song titles pile.  See, writing this entry is already starting to pay off.  Only had to write eleven paragraphs to get here, too.  Anyway... shit, back to reverting to italics.  Anyway, anyway, having a big bottle of alcohol comforts me.  This'll last me a while.  What fun.  What the what.  Same thing with having a box of Product 19 in my room.  I can eat late at night without having to leave my room.  And it's not too many calories.  Snackin' a bunch on it only amounts to 200 calories roughly.
    I can live with that.  I guess I don't really have a choice.  Anyway.  Twelfth paragraph.  Is it called Four Loko because you drink it around the time you eat fourthmeal?  Are they in cahoots with Taco Bell?  These tough questions demand real answers.  Yeesh.  What else and crap.  I don't wanna go over 20 paragraphs today.  Gotta keep it light.  Having to read 42 paragraphs is just work.  Twice as much work as 20 paragraphs.  Why is it Taco Bell.  How does Bell enter into this equation.  There's a good answer for this, I'm sure of.  I just don't know it.  The real crappy thing is the input jack for the headphones on my 8 track is broken and I need to hold it in a very special way so I can hear what I'm doin'.  The alternative is to hook it up to my amp, and hear it through there, but that brings with it its own problems.
    I said WE'LL SEE!  Huh.  What else and crap.  I have the same critique of Beauty & The Beast that I did with Shrek.  It doesn't matter how ugly you are, you can still get the girl!  Unless you're short.  Then you're an asshole.  And Fuck You.  In Shrek, specifically, the bad guy was short and they made fun of his shortness a lot.  One would imagine in Beauty & The Beast there's a short guy for comic relief or something.  That candle stick holder guy is pretty short.  I rest my case.  What else is going on.  I remember seeing Shrek for the first time in Middle School on the school bus on the way to some class trip.  Possibly the same trip that ended with us going to Burger King and trashing the place.  Lotta rebels in sixth or seventh grade class.
    The teachers made us write up what happened anonymously, and apparently half the class implicated me specifically.  I didn't do shit.  All I did was go into the play area meant for eight year olds.  I wasn't throwin' food or anything.  Also, I was muckin' around in the bathroom.  That's not what's being debated here-- we're talking about the food fight.  And that's when I realized my friends were all assholes who had it in for me.  What else is going on and crap.  Fourteenth paragraph.  That's okay.  It wasn't me, Michael's to blame!  What jerkballs.
    What else.  I don't know.  The point is I still haven't submitted my Abbott and Costello riff.  I'll do it tonight.  Probably.  Probably not.  Who cares.  I don't know, what else.  Fifteenth paragraph.  Man, just thinking about Shrek angries up the blood.  I remember going to see one of the sequels to Shrek in the theaters because I was watching a lot of movies at that point in my life, and left halfway through.  Not my cup of tea.  Someone in class was badmouthing Lipton Tea.  Oh, I like tea, except for Lipton's.  Not on my watch!
    Sixteenth paragraph.  What fun.  I don't know.  I can even end the entry here.  I'm gonna aim for that.  This is the last paragarph.  Ya heard.  I have 88 cents on Poker on account of two freerolls.  Gonna hold on to that for tomorrow.  The point is what else.  I also have Points which I can use to enter 10 cent tournaments.  Enough Credit for three, I think.  I don't know for sure.  Maybe one.  Maybe four.  Lots of possibilities is the point.  Hey, I haven't even taken a second Ritalin today.  No wonder I'm tired at 16 paragraphs.  That's how that goes.  Yeesh.  I'll see ya later.

-5:44 P.M.

Tuesday, November 15, 2016

I Like You Do You Like Me?

    Hello friends!  What a great title.  It embodies all that's good about titles.  Emotion-- what the entry will be about-- childish-- question mark.  The point is what's going on party people.  I made a pact with myself to finally hand in the Abbott and Costello riff tonight.  He said we could e-mail it to him.  Done!  Printing stuff out is a hassle I don't need.  It takes upwards of six minutes.  E-mailing it to myself, using downstairs computer, waiting for the printer to power up.  Any number of things can go wrong.  Well, lets keep it between zero and, I don't know five.  Six digits of what can go wrong.  You're six digits short of a phone number.  That should be a euphemism for stupid or mentally disabled people.  You heard it here first.
    Should it be six digits?  Seven digits?  Several digits?  I'm sticking with six.  They got one digit down pat, they can handle that.  The point is what else is going on.  Gas Station starting to expand it's Vitamin Water Zero selection.  Got lemonade.  Perfect, I love it.  I drank it all so quickly I was so excited.  I regretted it afterwards, though.  Gotta ration things out appropriately.  Oh well, live and learn.  Learn to get TWO bottles next time.  Now, lemonade is a good Vitamin Water Zero.  But orange?  Now you're talking great beverage.  What else is going on.  I continue to impress in comedy class.  Tellin' teacher who did Politically Incorrect.  Tellin' teacher his movie is called Religulous, not Religulosity.  Having seen Bamboozled.  Having known what clip he was gonna play from Curb Your Enthusiasm that he introduced about the Holocaust.
    I know my bullshit.  Gotta imagine I get extra credit for that, right?  Let's imagine it.  I do learn some stuff I didn't know, though.  Dick Gregory.  Never heard of him in my life.  Turns out he's good and a forefather of African-American humor.  My life is better now.  Whew, it was really going downhill for a while.  My Mom let me have some of her Dr. Pepper.  Now today is a great beverage day.  One of the best I've had in a while.  This is only the third paragraph.  Oh well.  It rained today.  These are the days of our lives.  Also, can we agree that hourglasses are a more than worthy substitute for clocks?  It's fun.  Watchin' sand filter down.  I could spend my whole day watching sand through an hourglass.
    Well, an hour, at least.  Then it's over.  Wait, I have an idea... flip it over!  The fun never ends when you can watch sand for multiple hours.  Where are they getting this sand.  Do they manufacture sand?  Or do you just go to the beach and load up your truck.  Lots of important questions being raised this entry.  Also, in the ocean, Water water everywhere but not a drop to drink.  So put some in your mouth, gargle, spit it back out.  At least you get the relief of some sort of water in your system, even if you don't swallow it.  At this rate, with these good ideas, I'll be a first mate in record time!  I like how Trump was bragging about all the admirals who supported him during the election.  How many first mates you got?  Skippers?
    That's how that goes.  What can I do in life to be more progressive and help people.  I figure I gotta do something good at least every week.  Every day, that's too much pressure.  Every week, that sounds about right.  That's still very good.  And I'm making a rule-- it can't just be adding my names to petitions.  In the past, sure, that made me feel like I was doing something.  Tough times call for tough measures, though.  That's how I feel.  What can I do this week.  Hmm.  I'll get back to you on that.  Probably won't.  Damnit, my scheme is ruined!  I'll get back to you on this.  What else is going on and crap.
    What else is going on and crap.  Is there a treadmill or elliptical machine where you doing it powers energy.  I'll do that.  Let's get some people working on the science of that.  Thus far, they only use up energy.  Gotta reverse the course of energy equation.  What else.  Oh, from now on, get your own sand from the beach.  These giant sand companies are ruining the environment.  Do it yourself, that's how that goes.  This appears to be the sixth paragraph.  How about that.  Also, why was soap such a big conglomerate that they named an entire hour of programming after it.  Sure, commercials for soap, fine.  But just soap all the time?  Seems king of egregious.
    Dick Egergiousocity. That's how that goes for some reason.  I wanted to set up an appointment for academic advisement but they're all booked up so I'll have to go as a walk-in.  Which could take upwards of some amount of minutes.  Who can say for sure.  What else is going on.  Start drinking Salt Water.  That'll help ease us from the limited supply of fresh water.  I heard the moon was out last night.  Oh My God I Can't Believe It.  I know that place!  That's where astronauts go to play golf.  Pretty easy to play golf on the moon.  So many craters, just take your pick.  They'd have to bring along a fourth astronaut just to caddy, though.  That's his job description. 
    What else.  Eighth paragraph!  Alright.  The good news is it turns out everyone else in Comedy Class isn't doing the homework, either.  So now I'm back to being on top.  In the land of no one doing homework, the man who participates in class like a mother fucker is king.  Well, teacher is still king.  Person in class like a mother fucker is First Mate.  What else is going on and crap.  Lost an all-in with two over cards and an ace high flush draw on flop to an over pair.  I was about 50/50.  I'm fine getting the money in there.  If I had just check called I would have gotten it in on the turn, anyway.  These are the sands of our hourglasses.
    Anyway, crap and crap.  3-d glasses at the movies are two and a half hour glasses.  Then throw em out.  What do you think, this is some kind of souvenir?  They're worthless.  I save all my 3-d glasses.  In the post apocalyptic world, we will use 3-d glasses to watch certain movies in theaters which they have 3-d scenes in.  Sure, the apocalypse happened, that doesn't mean we still don't need to be entertained.  Anyway, crap and crap.  Also, I couldn't check call.  I had position on him.  He bet, I raised.  I could have Wait, Called.  That's how that goes.  Looks like I'll bust in poker today.  Oh well.  Birthday is in several weeks.  Then I'm right back in the game with a relatively huge bankroll compared to what I've been playing.
    Wait, whaaaaat.  It's the tenth paragraph and crap.  The point is people in class before class were talking crap about Aquaman.  Not on my watch.  Except, yeah, on my watch.  I wasn't participating on the conversation, I was just watching.  Essentially, it was specifically on my watch.  If I wore a watch, I wonder which wrist I would use.  I think my right one.  In high school I wore a watch some times.  Because I liked to check how much time left was with this bullshit class.  I also used to bring a mini statuette of Gandhi and put it on my desk.  You know, for flair.  Gandhi draws the girls in, then the watch on my right hand is another piece of conversation, and then I'm in like Gunga Din.  Except for how that never happened.
    Yeesh.  Anyway, crap and crap.  If only the ACLU had a poker website.  I could donate to them through the rake of each pot.  Oh well, I'm out of ideas.  No I'm not.  I said I'll get back to you, and God Damnit, I will do it.  ACLU?  For this entry, more like ACLU NKER.  Nailed it.  I was under the impression we get cash for clunkers?  That's the whole basis of this website.  If Donald Trump cancels Cash For Clunkers I just don't know what I'd do.  Yeesh.  What else and crap.  I want to have a weekly column in some newspaper called What Are You, An Idiot? and each week I talk about another way Donald Trump is an idiot.  Not an asshole-- that would be another column.  This is specifically about his ongoing and continual idiocy.  Usually based on something in the news when applicable.
    The point is Money, Please.  What else is going on.  Well, just got unlucky in poker and now I got nothin' left.  Time to start playing freerolls where, if I'm lucky, I make 55 cents for three hours work.  That's a load of crap.  I might even be able to get Poker Money before Birthday.  Imagine this scenario, if you will-- Thanksgiving.  Brother comes over.  Go up to my room to chat. What do you want for your birthday? my brother asks.  Poker Money, please I go.  Hey, no need to wait for my birthday!  Just do it now!  In a perfect world that's how it might play out.  I know my Brother said he's done with this site because it's really hard to withdraw from it.  Doesnt mean he can't put money on it to give to me.  Right?  Right?
    Anyway, crap and crap.  Also, there's a one-off great Freeroll after class tomorrow.  I can cash in that hardcore.  In the meantime, though, it'll give me ample time to lie in bed and think about where I went wrong.  I don't think it's a coincidence that I do better in Freeroll Tourmanents than I do in 1/2 cent cash games.  I'm just goin' for it.  Not worried about not making big moves to conserve.  Also, other people in freerolls don't care about their chips.  Advantage-- Mike.  Now, let me call a three bet with 46 suited.  I probably like getting three to a flush or a straight on the flop more than most people.  Other people, barely registers.  Me, I'll float on the flop to pick up a draw on the river.  It'll be ever-so-disguised!
    Fourteenth paragraph.  I gotta conserve my Freeroll stack so I have something to do while writing this.  What bullcrap.  Where is justice.  I don't know.  If you're ever at a bar and the bartender asks what you want, say Justice.  Then wink at him and go Understand Puns, Much?  It don't sound like ya do.  That's how that goes for some reason.  No one really knows what.  Anyway, crap and crap.  The good news is there's a new freeroll every forty minutes.  The fun never ends.  Crap and crap.  Two thirds through the entry.  I meant to say three fourths.  But it's not three fourths, yet, to 20.  And I go over 20 sometimes.  I'll stick with 2/3rds for mutiple Strategy Reasons that you'd never understand.
    I don't know, crap and crap.  I told my Dad how a vendine machine ate my quarters and he was like, Did you call them?  Thery have to have a number on the machine.  You gotta call them.  What are they gonna do, mail me a check for a dollar seventy five?  This ain't the amount of liters in the alcohol bottle I got yesterday (1.75!  Remember?!?!).  The point is we can talk about numbers all day, but when it comes down to it, I'm not calling the vending machine company.  I used to be really selfconcious about calling anyone.  When I was first back living at home after the NYU muck-em-up, I'd want delivery, and make my Dad or Mom order.  I just didn't like talking to people.  Especially over the phone.
    Now, it's great!  Hello, China Grill, How Are You Doing Today?  Great!  We're Getting To Be Pretty Close Friends, Right?  Why'd You Do It.  Not sure if that's a thing that makes sense, a thing that almost makes sense, a think that doesn't make a whole bunch of sense, or plain and simple nonsense.  I've narrowed it down to those things probably and crap.  I'm comfortable saying a lot of my favorite movies come from Stephen King.  Shawshank, Green Mile, both in my top 20 movies.  The Shining, It, up there compared to a lot of these other clunkers.  Misery, I liked that.  Cujo.  Ahh, it's a dog.  It's diseased!  Run away!  Dogs are scary, who am I to argue.
    Anyway, crap and crap.  There should be a sequel to Shawshank Redemption and at the very beginning you see Tim Robbins in prison clothes and he goes, Well Guys, I'm Back.  And they're all like, Aww, man, what happened?  And he's like, The found me.  Brought me back. Jeez.  And that's when the fun starts all over again.  At least the bad warden is dead. But now they have an even worse warden!  R. Lee. Ermey, I'm lookin' at you.  I think it's ironic his name sounds like army but he's a marine man himself.  What joy.  I'm also almost certain he's related to Lee Harvey Oswald.  And Edward Le(e).  Who was a kid in my elementary and middle school class.  I added the parenthesis so anyone googling that name won't be directed here.
    The point is let's get paragraphing with it.  Eighteenth paragraph?  Yeah I got some more with me alright.  He also went to Stuy.  Where I promptly lost contact with him.  I shoulda made an effort to maintain my middle school friendships with the people who ended up going to Stuy.  I consider it a huge missed opportunity which would have ensured I'd have Twice the number of friends!  That's right, not two friends, but four!  I think I was too self conscious about not having any friends and didn't wanna come off as needy to the people I knew from Previous School.  That's one way to go.
    Anyway, crap and crap.  Gettin' dark earlier the last few weeks.  If you have an explanation, I'd like to hear it.  I think it's pretty impressive how the Earth rotates around the sun.  That was a real thought I had earlier today or yesterday.  You know what?  This rotating around the sun crap?  Pretty impressive.  Pretty much my thoughts verbatim.  I remember I punched a hole in the wall after I didn't get into Hunter.  That's not the kind of thing you'd forget.  Must have talked about that here at some point.  Pretty sure if I never want on anti-depressants I would have punched a hole in the wall last Tuesday.  Anyway, crap and crap.
    Wonderful.  I think, deep down, punching a hole in the wall was a cry for help.  It wasn't a cry for help.  It was a punch for help.  Punching is much more effective than crying for most things.  Part of the reason I like that story is because I guess I was more physically strong than I had thought/do currently think.  Punching a hole in the wall in one punch, that's no easy feat, especially when you're eleven years old.  What else.  Thirty paragraphs?  Bring it on.  Mission Accomplished.  Operation Let's-Get-'Em.  That was what they called the Iraq war, right?  Anyway, what else and crap.  I had a good idea for a title about a show about comedians and its called Comics.  Money, please.
    Paragraph the 20th.  And by 20th, I mean 21st.  Frontpage is starting to suggest italics a lot again.  Oh well, such is life.  I don't know, crap and crap.  Gonna do the Whose On First bit tonight.  Send it to Professor tonight, at least.  Really.  Okay, if I have to do one good thing a week, no reason I can't do it for myself.  Good thing for this week is handing in homework that was due three weeks ago.  Comic Book Aficionados talkin before class about how Jared Leto was a better Joker than Heath Ledger.  I won't have it!  The Dark Knight is another movie in my top 20.  I haven't seen Suicidal Squadron yet, but, I don't know.  Well, they're the aficionados.  Apparently Leto was closer to the Joker of Comic Books.  I don't know.
    Comics could also be about comic books.  There's two main groups in the sitcom.  Comedians and guys who like comics.  And they have to get together for the good of the team.  Anyway, crap and crap.  A comedian with a sitcom based on his life?  Someone stop the presses!  Don't stop the presses.  What have presses ever done to you.  Anyway, crap and crap.  This show, the protagonists don't have to be real life comedians.  It's all make believe.  You know, pretend?  How is this not registering.  What else and crap.  Stephen King wrote The Dark Knight, right?  Also, did I want that to be in italics?  Originally, no!  But it started out that way and I figured, why not.
    23rd paragraph.  Now we're gettin deep into the shit.  I re-watched Bad Santa last night.  Depending on the mood you're in, it could be funny as crap, or it could be depressing as clunk.  Yesterday was depressing.  Oh well.  Live and learn, as they say.  What else is going on.  Lots of good performances, though.  I really believed that fat kid was a fat kid.  He was good, I tell ya.  Also, all T.V. can be funny or depressing.  I prefer funny.  I find it less depressing.  Wha the wha the what?  Stephen King has a mobile throne.  That's the life, boy.  Did I originally misspell 'throne,' as, 'thrown?'  You bet I did.   
    24th paragraph.  Stupid italics.  It thinks if it just keeps reverting to italics, I'll be too lazy to correct it all the time.  And they're right.  Why Frontpage is in cahoots with Italics, I don't know yet.  But I'm gonna find out.  Anyway, crap and crap.  Crap indeed.  Anyway, what else and crap.  It turns out Trump is gonna be more evil than I hoped.  I was gonna give him the benefit of the doubt of not being 100% evil, but I'm hearing from a lot of people that he's gonna be evil.  People I trust.  Like Different People On The Internet.  I'm not being sarcastic.  It's scary.  But, like I said, I don't have it in me to do good every day to counteract the rising dark-side.  Give me a week to take care of it, I need some time to myself.
    Anyway, what the what.  There can always be the collective realization, even among Trump supporters, in February, Oh, wait a minute.  This guy is fucking terrible.  We'll see how far he gets without his precious, precious supporters.  What else is going on and crap.  25th paragraph.  After this one, 5/6ths through the entry.  Which sounds both like a lot and a little from where I stand right now.  Also, I'm sitting right now.  Full disclosure.  What else and crap.  The point is Let's Go On The Internet About It.  What else is crap and whatnot.  Maybe I should get back into music.  In these days we're living in, music'll make me feel better about things.  Probably.  Can't make me feel worse.  Except if it's even worse than previous musics I've done.  Then I've taken a step backwards and I come runnin' back to Crazysheet.
    I think I have it in me to take guitar/vocal lessons.  I'd need to clean up my room, sure, that's a negative.  But I could become competent at something I like so much!  That sounds like a pretty big positive to me.  Also, expensive.  But I could talk my parents into funding this endeavor one would imagine.  I got a year before I graduate.  Time to get crackin'.  I don't want a stupid job.  Probably not.  Most people don't.  But they're not as creatively inclined as me!  I'm the bees knees, I just need some direction.  Also, I get to come up with a new band name!  The Uppers may have served its purpose.  Time to start all over again!
    None of that will happen.  Can't hurt to dream, though, right?  Unless you dream of losing your teeth.  Then you're hurting other people to the greatest extent possible-- killing them.  That's a lotta hurt!  Where's italics when you need it.  Oh.  One sentence too late.  27th paragraph.  Shittsburgh, I gotta do something when this is over.  Also, how do Billy Bob Thorton and Tony Cox keep getting jobs as Santa and Elf.  John Ritter says, you've come highly reccomended.  They can't get reccomendations.  They steal the money then flee the scene.  And if people were talking about them from mall to mall, it would only be negative.  On account of the burglary.
    The point is Comic Book Fans before class were talking about Zombie-ism being unrealistic.  Finally, my kinda topic of discussion.  I got a lot to say about this.  But I kept my mouth shut.  I wasn't participating in their discussion and I'm not gonna butt in with my stupid ideas.  Anyway, crap and crap.  28th paragraph now.  Alright.  I can go over 30.  Also, didn't mean that to be italics.  I have to sometimes stick with it and qualify it so you know what I'm... uh.. uh, what I'm talking about.  You get a lot of practice in interpreting language with this website.  Really forces you to be firing on all cylinders.
    Ugh.  Anyway, crap and crap.  29th paragraph.  Penultimate?  Possibly.  That's how I feel.  Okay, to do the Whose On First bullshit, I aim to do it around 9?  10?  I can work that into my busy busy schedule somehow.  Ya'll can make my guitar sound like an angel, right?  And my voice sound like the Heavens itself.  Also, when I get my guitar/vocal teacher, I'm gonna pretend to be southerner.  For Strategy?  One would imagine.  The point is in Poetry Class some people need to post some poems tonight.  I'll read your poems.  May not understand them.  But I'll look at the words.  See if you got any really great words in there, and whatnot.
    Yeesh.  Can't leave you this way.  Gotta write more paragraphs to get back on track.  Maybe by the end of this paragraph I'll be able to leave you this way.  I don't know for sure, I don't have all the facts.  The point is I can't watch Bill Cosby without thinking, What a fuckin' asshole.  Which is why I can't watch the news anymore.  You know, because of our President?  It physically disgusts me to be exposed to these people.  Anyway, that's how that goes.  The point is there's no Bet-The-Pot option on America's Cardroom.  You can type in any amount you want.  But they have bet 1/2 the pot, bet 2/3s the pot, and bet all-in on easy to click buttons.  Changes the game entirely.  No one bets the pot anymore.  When I was a kid, we bet the pot all day long.  Bettin' the pot was a huge chunk of post-flop play.
    Stupid kids.  They don't know, they just don't know.  What else is going on.  Is there a larger conspiracy to dissuade people from betting the pot?  Probably.  Only explanation that makes sense.  I'll believe that.  Pot is a multi-purpose word.  Poker Pot.  Chicken Pot Pie.  Marijuana.  Toilet.  Really makin' that word earn its keep.  Which is a phrase that may or may not apply here.  I'm gonna count the paragraphs from the start.  See where I'm at for real.  31.  Just as I suspected.  Anyway, crap and crap.  Have I reached 35 yet?  I feel like I might have hit 35 nce or twice.  Not over it, though.  Pretty sure.  Anyway, crap and crap.
    What else is crap.  Only read one poem that's due today for other people.  Old Lady's.  Well, Middle Aged.  She talks about going through menopause, though.  That makes someone an old lady, right?  In your 50's?  Maybe 40's?  I should consult internet?  Usually between 45-55.  Just as I suspected.  Stupid getting deeper into freeroll.  Gonna commit extra time to it and likely to no avail.  I do have an excuse to keep writing this, though.  Everything's comin' up Mikey!  Actually did a Hero and went to the advising center to set up an appointment.  They do appointments Tuesday and Thursday and walk-ins... I already said this, didn't I.  If not, check it out-- Tues/Thurs appointments, Mon/Wed walk ins.  It's in the same building and floor as my Tues/Thurs class.  Wanted an appointment.  Also would mean I don't have to wait a lot.  They're all booked up!  Gotta do a walk in. 
    Good thing we covered that base.  I guess.  Talkin' about bases to get me in the zone for some Whose On First riffing fine-tuning.  Anyway, crap and crap.  33rd paragraph.  35 is well within reach.  And all I had to do was say a bunch of stupid shit.  We have an assignment in a week or two, for Thanksgiving, in Comedy Class, where we have to bring in the funniest food to us.  That's it.  Bring in a funny food.  First thought was Banana, but that's obvious.  Next thought was Raisins.  Raisins are pretty funny.  I settled on raisins instead of considering it more.  Now, if it was explicitly a Ground Banana, that's a way to go.  Ground Banana is the officially sanctioned funniest food of crazysheet.  But raisins, you know, they're not without their charm.
    Crap and crap.  Now the key is to get one of those little boxes of raisins.  My dad puts raisins in his cereal, he used to get those boxes, but now he gets a big jar of 'em.  I can't bring that in.  Being part of the little box makes it funnier.  Look, it's a little box!  That sort of thing.  I don't know.  What else and crap.  Full disclosure-- over the last couple of weeks or months of oversized entries, a few times I've taken a second Ritalin deeper into the entry.  I'm supposed to take two a day.  I take one right before class on Monday-Thursday, then I take one roughly five paragraphs into the entry several hours later.  Now, sometimes, I take another one an hour or an hour and a half after that.  In terms of rationing, I go a lot of days only taking one.  So it all balances out.  I just need to take them for Strategy reasons, instead of Supposed-to-be-taking-it-at-regular-times-every-day reasons.
    Every-day Raisins.  Raisins.  Hah.  Real funny stuff there.  I think that's an acceptable, doctor-approved way to take Ritalin.  That's the way some people do it.  I'm just doing it without their explicit approval.  Get off my back and whatnot.  At least I don't take it sublingually anymore.  I tried that a few times and it was fine, but I know that's something doctors wouldn't recommend.  So I'm being an Adult about it and not doing it anymore.  The point is how long will this entry last.  What else is going on.  Not only does playing poker make writing the entry easier, but writing the entry makes playing poker for a prolonged period of time easier. 
    Fun, fun stuff.  What the what.  I watched The Help last night.  I liked the part where it's a fine movie.  Entertaining enough to not change the channel.  Good for them.  I went into the experience assuming it was gonna be a subtly racist movie, that they need a white girl to help them.  I went out of it thinking, that was a subtly racist movie, that they needed a white girl to help them... but less subtly racist as I expected.  The degree of racism was fine.  It's only racist if you think its racist.  That's a recurring theme of racism in my mind.  Dick Gregory wouldn't have stood for this!  Now that I know who Dick Gregory is and that he stands sometimes.
    37th paragraph.  Goin for the ever-so-elusive 40.  If someone said to me when I wake up in the morning, You're gonna write 40 relatively large sized paragraphs before the day is through, I'd... well, I'd believe him, because I have a track record of approaching that.  But if someone told me when I was fourteen, one day, you're gonna write 40 paragraphs in a day, I would, well, I wouldn't like it.  That's how that goes.  Givin' up on my own bit.  That's another recurring theme of mine.  The point is crap and crap, three and a half paragraphs to go.  Can't go over 40.  Can't go under 40.  Gotta go for 40.
    Anyway, what the what.  Entertaining to no one but myself.  But, boy, do I find it entertaining.  Anyway.  Watching T.V. after this isn't so bad.  I feel like I'm not in the mood to get depressed by it.  I'm in the mood to be entertained by it.  That's pretty good any way you slice it.  Crap and crap.  Before Poetry Class, we go around the room saying Good Afternoon to each person, someone says it to you, you gotta say it to someone else.  I know maybe a third of these peoples names.  I gotta hope and pray someone gets to me early so I could not embarrass myself.  Or, learn other people's names.  I wanna say one is named Jennifer. 
    Oh well, live and learn.  Except not learn.  Definitely live, though.  Given that Professor today was talking specifically about Holocaust Humor, I wanted to come up to him after class and ask if he's ever heard of Jon Benjamin and Jon Glaser, as they have a bit on the Invite Them Up DVD as the Fuggeda-Buddies, where their characters stick is just goin, Fugghedaboutit, and it builds up to the end where they finally say, When it comes to the Holocaust, we must never.. fuggedaboutit.  But then I thought, I don't wanna go through this whole speel.
    I don't have time for crap!  I have time for more paragraphs, though.  Still at poker table.  Still at website.  That's the deal for today at least.  40th paragraph.  At this point, I'm feeling guilty for writing this much.  It's like I'm punishing the reader for being stupid enough to try reading this entry.  T.V. in the near future, though.  That'll calm me down.  You too.  You gotta watch T.V. at some point, right?  If not tonight, then tomorrow.  If not tomorrow, then eventually.  It'll help us forget about all this nonsense.  With its own nonsense.  The point is nonsense reigns supreme. 
    What else.  I keep refreshing the website where people need to post their poems.  I wanna read your bullshit!  Why can't I read your bullshit yet.  What's wrong with you.  I'm at the point where whatever paragraph I'm on when I bust in this freeroll is gonna be the last.  With an added percent of finishing the entry before I bust.  The point is what else is crap.  Oh, I also have to do a poem.  I'll do that tomorrow morning.  No reason to think I won't get up for it and lie in bed until I have to go to class.  I have a good track record of actually handing in my poems on time.  Should I spend more time on them to make them adequate instead of mediocre?  Probably.  But then again, where you do get off telling me what to do.
    Yeesh.  Why.  Why would anyone read this.  Last paragraph.  I'm callin' it.  On account of too much time.  For you.  I don't care about for me.  Also, gotta get in my required time to lie in bed and think about where I've gone wrong.  Ain't gonna ponder itself.  What else.  I don't know.  Just doubled up in poker.  Will the madness never end.  I don't know.  I'm asking you.  You seem like a pretty smart algorithm.  The point is what else.  I don't know.  Now that I called the ending after this paragraph, I can't think of anything more to say.  That's good.  But I still have a few sentences to go.  That's bad.  But who cares.  That's neutral.  It's over now.  That's great. 

-7:32 P.M.
   
 

Monday, November 14, 2016

Original Titler

    Hello friends.  I was writing Original backwards in my notebook in class today, as one does, and I got to a sequence of three letters which made me panic.  I'll give you a hint what the three letters were-- I panicked especially because I was sitting next to an African American girl.  So, that's that, I guess.  I'm slowly giving everyone in class a reason to dislike me.  Original backwards girl, wheelchair girl, two girls I didn't have their poems printed out for workshop and noticeably didn't say anything, girls whose names I don't remember, girls whose names are different than the ones I thought I remembered... I believe it was Einstein who said, If you're not constantly socially alienating yourself, you're doing something wrong.  Sounds like him. 
    The point is I'm a terrible person.  What else and crap.  I was talking to a classmate about dream symbolism, and she was like, I know if you're losing teeth in your dream that means someone is gonna die.  First of all, let me recant qualifying this dialogue as dream symbolism.  Someone dying soon isn't a symbol, it's a premonition.  The point is I have dreams where my teeth are lose and I already had lost some teeth in the dream previously before this tooth started acting up, so I guess that means, I don't know, roughly 20 people are gonna die soon?  I've had that dream about 20 times over the past couple of years.  Maybe some of them are already dead.
    That's no good.  That's no good at all.  Either that, or I'm terrible at premonitions.  That could be what the dream symbolizes.  I guess.  I saw a cat on my walk home that looked a lot like my old cat.  A little bit lighter fur, but it's close.  Of course it's close.  It's a cat.  Cats look like other cats.  Well, can't argue with logic.  Well, you can.  I don't suggest it though.  What else is going on.  I'm proud to say I finally saw Meet The Fockers last night.  I can't wait till the third sequel is on T.V.!  That would be the second sequel.  Jeez, Count Much?  Man this italics guy is really bringing the party down.  I'm so sorry for him.
    Went Tilto last night and blew a lot of my bankroll.  Still got a little bit left which I can make some moves with.  I'm gonna limit the time I play, though.  To make it last a little bit longer.  Anyway.  I was talking to someone about Metrocards for twenty minutes before class.  My favorite topic of discussion.  Other than spelling words backwards and putting the word Title into phrases that didn't have the word Title in them before.  Metrocards is a solid #3 on the list.  Sure Titling can be a discussion.  Just because we don't discuss it all the time doesn't mean we can't.  Anyway.  Saw my Therapist today.  She asked me about the election.  Hey, have you seen these Democrats?  There-a-pissed!  She didn't say that.  She was thinking it, though.  I'm very good at reading people and I deduced she was saying that word for word.
    Yeesh.  Fifth paragraph.  Four more weeks of school and then I get a few weeks off until I probably take a Winter class which is in January.  That's how that goes.  It's also four weeks till my birthday!  I made two apointments for the day of my birth, 12/12, Therapist and Clozopine Clinic.  I got appointment cards from both.  Or, as I like to think, Birthday Cards!  Is there anything more joyful than a birthday card from a dentists office or an optometrist.  Hey, It Is My Birthday Soon!  Thanks for the heads up!  Now I want to go to the optometrist all the time.  He sure hooked me in, boy.
    What else and crap.  I got a 1.75 liter bottle of alcohol instead of a... what is it.. 1.25?  1.00?  Either way, it was on special, and I got it for the exact same price!  The point is Oh, boy, I get to drink my life away for the near future!  Knockin' Life out of the Park.  Sixth paragraph, too.  That's roughly five more than I had beforehand.  The point is I went to class with the band aid still on from where they took my blood.  Felt like a real rebel.  You don't know where I got this band aid from, do you?  Coulda been something real cool.  Probably.  That's the conclusion I would make.  Hey, guy's got a band aid on his arm.  Musta been something real cool.  That's just following logic, that's all that is.
    Maybe I was writing, "vinaigrette."  And spelling it wrong.  That's the conclusion I'd jump to.  Anyway, crap and crap.  What else is going on.  I was drinking a lot of iced coffee really quickly and it made me throw up.  That's how that goes.  This entry could use a dose of comedy.  Have you heard the good news about band aids?  Frontpage don't recognize bandaid as a word.  Who am I to argue.  Frontpage is a Computer Program.  You know, algorithms and stuff?  I guess it turns out, after checking Internet, which has even more complicated algorithms, that Band-Aid is a brand name.  They can spell it however they want.  Shucks.  Let's get a petition going to legalize bandaids spelling.  I threw up in my garbage can.  Not just now, from before.  Get some multi-use purposes out of the whole thing.  Time for my garbage can to start pullin' its weight.
    What the what and whatnot?  Eighth paragraph.  I'm gettin' pretty good at spelling eighth.  I get a lot of practice.  What else is going on.  I think in Baseball I used to hit 10th or 11th.  They let us have 10 or 11 players.  So that's pretty good.  Actually, let me qualify that.  I'd sit out the first half of the game and then replace the better hitter who was hitting 11th.  Gotta get my time in!  The team needs me.  What else and whatnot.  Hah, there name sounds like Fucker!  Now This I Get.  Are we in the Circle of Trust just by watching the movie?  These are the real issues.  The important thing is Circles have no Edges.  I learnt about it in Math.
    Yeesh.  Crap and crap.  The point is I can't wait for Bad Santa II.  They got the kid who was the fat kid in it again!  And now he's older!  That's not something you see every day.  Only once-- November 22.  Get your tickets in advance, people.  I have a feeling these theaters are gonna be packed.  Anyway, what else and crap.  The good news is checking Internet to confirm if the Fat Kid is still the Fat Kid in the new one, I found out the dwarf actor's name is Tony Cox.  He pops up in a lot of movies.  He's good, I like him. 
    10th paragraph.  Who knows how long this entry will be.  Not me.  I didn't have a premonition about it in any recent dreams to my recollection.  The Teeth dream usually follows this string of logic-- This tooth is loose.  Hey, I'm missing other teeth, too!  Well, let's stop the bleeding here.  Gotta get this tooth fixed up.  Damn, resistance is futile!  I'm gonna lose another tooth!  So that means... what?  I don't know.  Crap and crap.  I found out the Popsicles are only 15 calories.  I enjoy a popsicle after taking the equivalent to a shot or two of alcohol.  Really cleans up the palate. 
    What else is crap and whatnotting.  Ran a tenth of a block to catch the bus today.  Boy was that tough.  You know, on Lungs?  They don't get much practice.  Then I got to thinking how long I could go without breathing until I pass out.  I'm probably pretty bad at that.  I'd give me a minute, tops.  These are the real issues.  It turns out that the average for most people is 30-40 seconds.  Let me amend that.  I give myself twenty five seconds, thirty seconds, tops.  Nothin that out of the ordinary there.  Well, yeah, but now if I die from asphyxiation, we'll have this entry to look back on when wondering,  Well, we know he's dead now, but how long could he have conceivably been going before passing out?
    That's a thing.  I guess.  12th paragraph.  Am I cheating by talking bullshit without being entertaining?  Nope!  Am I cheating by writing paragraphs on the lower end of the spectrum in terms of length?  Yes!  Now that we got that covered lets move on with the rest of the entry.  This vodka isn't flavored.  I guess people who get 1.75 liters of Vodka don't particularly favor having their vodka with a hint of grape.  Anyway, crap and crap.  Stupid alcoholics, I hate th... Oh, right.  Me.  The good news is what else and crap.  FX keeps showing the same Simpsons regularly.  Sure, they show a lot in any given week.  But they just cycle through the same 20 or 30.  Whatta gip.  When I have Smart T.V., I'll watch all the crap I want.
    That'll be the day.  Anyway, crap.  Beef Jerky has a little packet in the bag which absorbs oxygen or something.  To keep it fresh longer.  Hey, we were just talking about breathing!  Breathing is Oxygen!  What a coincidence!  One of the poems we workshopped today that I didn't have it printed out and thus didn't participate at all had the word breast in it 20 times.  Huh, wha, huh.  Then I raise my hand, This poem is making me uncomfortable!  Because I'm a... what's the word.  I wanna say Geek, but that's not quite it.  Oh, right.  Sexually Repressed Weirdo.  That'll do it.  Probably.  I don't know about Repressed.  Well, great.
    Well, great.  I'm not repressed.  I just live a life that is so removed from any sort of sex that I'm not used to it.  Cut To: Mike Jerking Off in bed, thinking about the word, "Breast."  Flash Backward To: Now.  Man, whatta trip.  A trip through time!  What else is going on.  The point is the word Original doesn't particularly lend itself to any palindromes.  Giro is promising, it's almost Gyro.  But overall, nothin' much goin' for it.  Fourteenth paragraph.  When I click the Off button on my phone, just click it, not hold it down, it's supposed to just turn off the screen, right?  Well, it does that.  But it makes a Click sound that resembles the normal sound when people take photos.  Now people think I'm takin' photos in class, I'm takin' photos on the bus.  That's no good.  They must think I'm some kind of weirdo, discreetly taking picture of them.  For Sexual reasons.
    One can only assume.  What else is going on.  Maybe they're just thinking, Man, this guy gets off on turning his phone screen off.  Don't know how that logic works itself out, but it sure takes up space!  Space, huh?  What else is going on.  Fifteenth paragraph.  Man, we're in the shit now.  Just keeps flying by.  The point is Crap and Crap. I feel bad about checking my phone during a Bathroom Break from class.  Some people fake a Bathroom Break just to use their phones.  Bad people.  I'm legitimately using the bathroom.  I check my phone, even if its only in addition to Bathroom Time, how am I better than them?
    These are the real issues.  Crap, this is gonna end at some point!  Then back to lying in bed, thinking about where I went wrong.  Gotta milk this time for all its worth.  What else is going on.  Still the 16th paragraph.  I got that going for me and whatnot.  Yeesh.  Turnin' 28 in a month.  That's right-- Almost Becoming An Adult.  Next year, same thing.  Year after that, same thing.  Maybe when I'm around 40 I'll throw in the towel and consider myself fully grown.  Aww.  What else and crap.  My personality doesn't lend itself well to adulthood.  My writing personality.  It's predicated on the assumption that my humor and insight are equivalent to a six year olds'.
    Good news is More Paragraphs!  I think it takes a child to become 9, 10, to really start appreciating paragraphs.  That's what it says in the manual, anyway.  Manuel?  What the Hell am I up to?  Open to interpretation.  What else is going on.  Lost half my remaining stack in poker.  Great, just great.  Pressures on, now.  Can't bust out of this table.  I've got all my marbles riding on this.  Well, I can always go back to the Freerolls.  Spend 3 hours trying to get 55 cents.  Better than the alternative-- nothing!  Most things are better than nothing.  Most things are worse than nothing.  Nothing has no definable qualities so we can talk about Nothing all night and never get anywhere.
    Huh?  I mean, yeah!  Crap and crap.  There goes Mike, always taking pictures of us, what a pervert.  ... Good guy.  Anyway.  Already up 15 cents!  That almost makes up for the 2 dollars in Quarters I spent at Vending Machine trying to get a soda.  Ate up all my coins, wouldn't give 'em back.  I used my Credit Card to finally get the soda, but boy did that ruffle my feathers.  Boy are my wings tired.  What else is crap and whatnot.  Joke where it's like Back II The Future and Marty McFly inspired Chuck Berry through Marvin Berry but for comedy instead of music.
    You figure it out.  I'm not here to hold your hand for you.  Nineteenth paragraph.  At this rate, I'm aiming for 30.  I like being here.  It's nice and cozy.  That's eleven more paragraphs.  A challenge, sure.  Not insurmountable, though.  Which I have it on very good authority that it is a word.  The point is let's get some jokezzz.  I wonder whose gonna die because of my dream.  It could be you, you, you... or even you.  Sorry to scare you like that.  Welcome to my life.  The Hell Raiser movies are pretty scary.  Spooked me right good.  Wha?  The point is there's a Hell Raiser where Kari Wuhrer is in it.  She had a starring role in the cut scenes of a video game I liked to play.  Also, the masturbations of me.
    Aww, kids.  I mean, aww, me, when I was a kid.  Before I even started thinking about paragraphs seriously.  Lotta sex talk this entry.  You heard it here first.  What else is going on.  I'm glad I don't have the orange flavored vodka anymore.  It made my orange soda taste a little too orange.  Because I'm an imbecile.  What else is going on.  I've been up since 8:30 A.M. today.  That's a long time.  I usually get up around 12.  Oh well, live and learn.  Classes need attending.  They ain't gonna attend themselves.  Although if we could develop classroom technology so that it could theoretically attend its... I'm gettin in way over my head.  Which is a back-up phrase because the phrase I wanted to say after the ellipses I don't remember anymore.
    The point is 21st paragraph.  That's how we do.  I lost another 3 pounds since the last time I checked several months ago.  At this rate, I'll be a healthy weight right in time for being an adult in my 40's.  Pushed it back from 40 to 40's.  For Strategy reasons.  What's going on.  Is Jumanji what they call comic books in Japan that are about Jewish people.  It's relevant because Strategy.  Reminds me of Stratego.  Reminded me of my bit, I don't think I've ever finished a game of Battleship, and, finally reminded me of Jumanji.  You get quality riffs here at crazysheet.  Real great. 
    What else is going on.  My mind is slowly starting to accept the fact that I'll have shit else to do when this is done.  It's a cycle.  I end here, I start again the next day.  And so it goes for the rest of history.  The point is I still haven't handed in my Abbott and Costello riff.  Will tomorrow finally be the day?!  I'm giving myself a 50% chance it will be!  What joy.  Percents.  You talkin' about percents, that lights up a room.  Don't know what that accomplishes.  The point is what else.  People holdin' on to hope that they can change the Electoral College People's vote.  I won't say its impossible, but my stance on that is, Yeah, wake me up if just one of them does that.  Which won't happen.  Which means I get to sleep forever!  It's about time.
    We were talking about getting sick before class, same person, and she was like, I haven't gotten sick yet, as an introduction to a subject.  Apparently she meant this flu season.  I was like, though,  Ever???  It was a memory that will last a lifetime.  My goal is to still have money on poker by the end of this entry.  Live to fight another day.  Or fight to live another day.  That's a different route to take.  Anyway, crand crap.  23rd paragraph.  What a life I lead.  Won some poker money back.  That's great.  That means I potentially got something to do during ttomorrow's entry.
    Was italics really called for there?  Let's talk about it.  Phone me up at 1-800-CrazySh and lets talk all about it.  What else is going on.  I get confused if the number on a menu has a dash and then lists another digit.  I ain't foolin.  I still don't know what it means.  Is that another extension?  That's my best guess.  Don't be hatin'.  Anyway, crap and crap.  Ha.  Phone number.  Where does I come up with this stuff?!  What else.  I don't know why I keep not doing the Abbott and Costello homework.  It's fine if its not long enough, I just have to hand in something.  All I would have to do is look through 3 or 4 entries and put everything applicable into a word document.
    I don't got time for that.  I'm a busy, busy man.  You know, discreetly taking photographs of people?  For sexual reasons?  One would assume?  25th paragraph.  Hey, I'm gettin' there!  Especially with all these candid photographs, oh boy.  Groucho Marx?  It's your Brother-- Harpo Marx-- get a load of this!!!  You don't have to yell, we're in the same room.  Because they're a team.  Don't need to be talking on the telephone, they're around each other all the time.  What else is going on.  I enjoyed that.  Almost brought me to the verge of chuckling.  Chuck Ling-- it's your cousin-- Marvi... eh, fuck it.  And there goes all the good will I built up with myself.
    26th paragraph, though.  Will I finish before dinner?  Will I just eat dinner later?  Lots of unanswered questions afoot.  Chuck Schumer is the new minority leader of the senate.  Hopefully he's getting some advice from his cousin Marvin.  I've worn out my welcome here.  And I'm the only other one here.  There's me and me.  And I'm tired of my antics, boy.  Yeesh.  Where am I.  Doin' something.  This.  Right, right.  It's all coming back to me.  What else and crap.  Four paragraphs to go.  Then it's Lying In Bed time!  I wonder if Blockbuster has Little Fockers.  Probably not.  Oh well.  I'm a fan of using the term Buster as an insult.  I wish it happened more often.
    Don't know.  Just don't know.  KK in big blind.  Fully expect to lose it all.  Hey, I won.  How about that.  What a nice surprise.  The lesson to be learned is that I'm a pessimist.  The 80/20 odds are half empty.  We learnt that last Tuesday.  Politic'd it!  What else is going on.  What, this is 27?  Three and a half to go?  Alright, great.  I also get to eat dinner in a couple of hours.  It's healthy to eat several calories a day.  I learnt about it somewhere.  I used the phrase That'll be the day earlier in the entry and now I can't get the song out of my head.  What bullshit.
    28th paragraph.  Wonderful.  Each paragraph that goes on I get progressively more dissatisfied with the entry.  Because of Facts and stuff.  The Facts that it's no good.  What else is going on and crap.  It's a Monday.  You know what that means.  Tomorrow is a Tuesday.  At least, that's how the days of the week have played out so far throughout history.  Two and a half to go.  And, after one half, penultimate time.  Let's see, crap and crap.  Words.  Crap.  I don't know.  Whattado with the rest of the entry.  Words, that's a given.  Crap, probably.  Maybe if I get in the mindset I'm only gonna do 29 paragraphs, I can get through this next one quicker.
    Yeah!  Almost done!  I sure believe this is the last paragraph.  No reason not to.  Man, wasn't that last paragraph the penultimate one?  For real.  Man, in a month, I'm gonna be able to watch the shit out of T.V.  Because of all the extra avenues of programming.  I don't know. What if I made this the last paragraph-- for real?  I don't know how I'd come to terms with such a thing.  Especially since this is taking up words in this paragraph and then there's just one more after this crap is done and the sentence needs to be a bit longer because the longer it is the more crap I can get done and I can finally lie in bed and think about where I went wrong with my life.
    Yeah!  Almost done!  What else and crap.  I did it.  A lot of people have doubted me throughout this ordeal.  But I have made it to 30 paragraphs.  I deserve props and whatnot for that.  You know, like Carrot Top?  That sort of thing.  Nobody drinks potato juice.  What's the deal with things.  I can still watch the new Simpsons from last night.  That'll be a bunch of fun.  A little too yellow for my tastes, though.  You know, colorwise?  That sort of thing.  Anyway, windin' down now, for real.  What fun was had.  Remember fun?  It was abundant for me while writing, let's say, the first half of the entry.  I'll see ya later.

-6:45 P.M.

Thursday, November 10, 2016

That's About It

    Hello friends and whatnot!  Another week in the books and whatnot.  Really gotta write up the Abbott & COstello riff before next Tuesday.  I think he's giving me some leeway specifically because I participate like a madman, but I gotta do it eventually.  The point is we watched Jewish American comedians in class today.  Jackie Mason-- good.  Henny Youngman-- crap.  Joan Rivers-- alright.  Fourth guy I forget-- crap.  That's what I learned in class today.  Two positives and at leat one negative.  A lesson that will stay with me for eternity.  We also watched Brooks/Reiner's 2000 year old man.  But the professor kept calling it the 1000 year old man.  That must have been the prequel.  Comedy!
    That was fine.  I feel like I don't like Mel Brooks as much as other people.  But I don't dislike him.  For me, he hits some and he misses some.  With a large percent striking me as adequate.  Now, these aren't the same terms when I consider myself.  Him being adequate is light years ahead of me calling myself adequate.  It's a sliding scale you morons.  I was gonna title this entry The Lady And The Trump but while walking home a guy screamed NOOOOOO! from inside his house, and that made me think, Yeah, sounds about right.  So I took that feeling and made that the title.  Gotta do something.  Also, who needs that title.  Better to go with ambiguous nothings at title, no risk of offending people.
    What else is going on.  I think Frontpage adjusted from heavily insisting I use italics.  Whew.  In Tuesday's class, Professor Trump alluded to a comment I just made while talking to another student, Well, Mr. Kornblum's comment... He knows my name!!!  I've probably never felt more proud in my entire life.  Not only does he know my name, but I'm a Mr.!  No "Mike says..."  This is the most respect I've ever gotten.  The point is What Else.  Back on the mediocrity train.  Gotta do something.  My facial hair is starting to grow in faster.  On the one hand, Man. On the other hand, gotta shave more.  Where is justice?  These are the real issues for some reason.
    Fourth paragraph.  Teacher asked the class if any of us were Jewish.  Me and some 50 year old man raised our hands.  I guess I'm Jewish.  I was born Jewish.  Culturally, I'm more or less Jewish.  Faith wise, I'm agnostic.  And not just, Jewish God, or no God, I don't know, agnostic.  I'm agnostic across the board!  I'll consider your crazy God as a possibility, I ain't exclusive.  That's how I feel. My Mom asked me a couple of days ago, You ever light a cigarette and then realize you already had one lit?  And I was like, I don't think so.  Then yesterday I did.  Stupid power of suggestion and whatnot.  Messin me up! 
    What else and crap.  Is there any comedy in this entry?  Nope.  This one isn't for comedy, it's for killing time.  I'll tell myself that to avoid being pressured to write something worth reading.  I dropped my Ritalin right before class started-- twice.  Each time rolled away from me substantially.  If people hadn't noticed I was taking a pill before class before, sure, they know now.  It's an innocuous little pill, though.  Nothin' that crazy about a man taking a pill.  This is real life, kids.  People take pills.  Stupid lost with 2 pair on flop to an overpair.  I knew that's what he had.  Then I lost.  That doesn't make sense-- good things are supposed to happen, right?
    I guess not.  I guess bad things are supposed to happen.  Damn, that's really gonna inconvenience me throughout life.  On Tuesday Professor was referencing Lorne Michaels, and he was like, what's his name... Lorne... And I was like Michaels.  And he looked at me for three seconds like, Why is this kid saying his name?  Then he figured it out and gained 50xp of respect for me.  Is XP the term I'm looking for?  You know, like 50 points in video games.  That sort of thing.  2 pair against an overpair is pretty good.  They don't have as many outs as they might think.  Or they have more outs than they might think.  I don't know what these people are thinking, get off my back!
    I definitely think right on target.  I'm a good poker player, what can I say?  In big flops, I usually look at the bottom right of the screen which says the hand I made, instead of just looking at the flop.  Makes me feel good.  Just won a big pot by getting lucky.  I played it okay, but I was an underdog.  I won, though.  That's how that goes and whatnot.  Seventh paragraph.  That's pretty good.  I'm okay with the number seven.  I'm okay with the concept of paragraphs.  The point is in six weeks I'm down to 5 classes to go.  Winter class.  2 Spring.  Perhaps even 2 summer (There's 2 summer sessions).  By this time next year I could be a college graduate.  You know what that means!!  Feeling shame about not being able to get a job.  Well, that's not shameful.  Feeling shame about possibly being able to get a job and not wanting to take it.  There we go.
    I can't hold down a job.  That's work!  I'm solidly against work.  That means I have less than a year to improve greatly at writing so I can get away with trying to do that instead of a job.  Time to start crunchin' it up.  Hey, have you heard about Comedy?!  Here's the thing, you ever go to Hawaii, and you love the Hawaiian shirts while you're there, but you hate 'em once you get back home?!?!  Money, please.  Yeesh, what else and crap.  Have you ever notice that Boy Are My Wings Tired?  Get a load of this crap.  Take My Wife... I don't like her, get her out of my sight.  That sort of thing.  Gotta write a 'Documentry Poem' for Monday Poetry Class.  If writing a documentary poem is as much fun as seeing a documentary movie, boy, am I in for a treat.
    Ninth paragraph you assholes.  I don't get the Take My Wife joke.  You can just a divorce.  You don't need to beg the people in your audience to get the job done.  There are legal avenues in which you can get rid of her without resorting to this act of desperation.  Anyway, what else and crap.  I don't know.  I can write a Seinfeld Spec Script.  Try to get that made.  I'm pretty sure it's an acceptable exercise to write spec scripts for T.V. shows no longer airing as a demonstration of what you can do.  This whole line of Joke is faulty.  I lost 50 cents because I'm an idiot.  It wasn't that out of line, my play, but still.  Shuolda known better.
    10th paragraph.  How about that.  I just gained 50 cents because I hit a flush draw on the flop.  It all comes out in the wash and whatnot.  The point is What Else.  I don't know.  Crap and crap.  I don't know.  World is goin' to shit.  Oh well.  Live and learn.  I get to pick what I want to eat for dinner.  That's a nice luxury.  You pickin' what you want to eat, you don't got it that bad.  Hit a wall here.  Started this paragraph at least 20 minutes ago.  I got halfway to go.  Livin' on a prayer, and whatnot.  I'm not gonna make it to 20.  Unless I start hittin' the rubber, real fast.  That's almost an expression.  I'm okay with using things that are almost expressions.
    Great!  What else.  I don't know.  There's a girl in Poetry whose smart and kind of cute but in a wheelchair.  Her face is also disabled, but despite that, kind of cute.  Oh well.  I ain't gettin' involved in a wheelchair relationship.  Also, the opportunity isn't there anyway.  But still, probably would err on the side of caution and avoid that whole mess altogether.  Because I'm racist against handicapped people.  Gotta be racist against something.  Handicapped people, that's a relatively socially acceptable people to be uneasy around.  Rollin' into class. 
    Anyway, that's how that goes.  Me being an idiot and whatnot.  If I'm in a relationship with someone in a wheelchair, does that mean I need to get into a wheelchair, too?  For solidarity and whatnot?  Actually that sounds pretty good.  I'll get in a wheelchair and roll around.  It sounds wonderful.  I've come full circle on this.  That's right-- back to where I started.  What else is going on and bullshit.  12th paragraph.  Makin' some progress and whatnot.  I have a slice of pizza and three buffalo wings.  The responsable way to eat dinner is to have that.  If I don't, though, I could finish that in a series of snacks.  One slice of pizza as a snack, that's 300 calories, not that bad.  Each buffalo wing about 100 calories.  I can figure out how to work that into my snacking schedule.
    The question then is, what to get instead.  I feel like a hamburger.  They make me feel good.  And by hamburger, I'm including the possibility of a bison burger.  The day you ate a bison burger was the biggest day of your life, for me, it was Tuesday.  Tuesday was election day.  No!  That's no good.  I don't want to remember that.  Let's just think of Tuesday as the day Bison from Street Fighter destroyed our village.  All Tuesdays.  That'll make me feel better.  I'd watch Street Fighter if it was on.  You know, I might even have it on DVD.  I'd say it's like a 50/50 chance I have it on DVD.  Then I get to watch it!  With director's commentary, maybe, even!  So, this was the scene where we made a movie based on a fighting video game...
    That's how that goes.  I'd jump at the chance to be in a relationship with that girl.  Except not really.  That would sort of insensitive and rubbing it in.  What else is going on.  A comedian could do fuckin' 5-15 minutes on My Disabled Girlfriend... Oh well.  Never gonna happen.  Also, if she can't feel anything below her waist, gotta imagine it's pretty hard to please her-- sexually.  Also, me being me, it's pretty hard to please her-- sexually.  Topics!  Almost done with the 14th paragraph.  That's pretty good.  It looks like I'll get to 20 after all.  And all I needed to do was be insensitive to handicapped people.
    What else is going on.  Probably crap and stuff.  People talking about White Castle on the bus.  I have a recurring dream, well, not a full dream, a reoccurring portion of dreams, where I'm near a White Castle, and thinking about getting it, and never do.  Probably says something weird about me.  I don't know.  It is almost real life.  I can get White Castle Hamburgers from Key Food but never bother.  Those are big boxes.  I can't carry around a box, what am I, superman?  More like supperman.  Also, that's only hamburgers.  No fried, no chicken rings.  That's only 1/3rd of the White Castle Trifecta.  The point is there are things wrong with me.  What else.
    Sixteenth paragraph.  Just like the chapel.  Sure I don't know things.  This ain't an act.  What else is going on.  Weekend when this is done, but a weekend with a moderate amount of work.  Comedy Class Riff.  Comedy Class Proposal of what I'm gonna be doin with the final paper, which it turns out will be a final short story.  Documentary poem for Poetry Class.  I should start workin' on that crap tomorrow, you know, to be a hero.  That sort of crap.  For Strategy.  I don't know.  I've accumulated a lot of empty alcohol bottles in my room.  Four.  Sure, it's been over a month overall.  But I bring down 4 empty alcohol bottles at once, my parents get concerned.  Where is justice.  My parents are already concerned about me drinking.  They bring it up every other day.  Don't need to give them reason to justify that line of thinking and crap.
    Anyway, what else and else.  No more italics being suggested.  Whew.  I guess things are looking up.  What else is going on.  Crazysheet.  Makes me feel good.  Makes me feel bad.  Gives me something to do.  That's the tie breaker.  I've gotten into the habit of getting Green Apple flavored vodka.  For a long time I would switch between flavors when getting vodka.  Finally settled on one that I feel is a choice worth sticking to.  The point is what else.  This is winding down.  Makes me feel good and bad.  Good, I did it again, it's finished and in the books.  Bad, nothin' else to do, gotta go back to lying in bed thinking about where I went wrong.
    Wonderful.  What else and crap.  Shit, still gotta make an advising appointment so I know what classes to take for the Spring.  That's not so bad.  I can make the appointment in five minutes, schedule it for after one of my classes, it really isn't that much work.  Anyway, crap and crap.  I also have three or four 20 oz soda bottles I've accumulated from getting them before class and not finishing them before I get home.  That's not so bad.  Parents aren't gonna go,i you you drink too much soda.  KK in poker!  Let's see how much I lose here.  I didn't lose.  Whew.  That's a relief.  Anyway, crap and crap.  Close to where I started the day in Poker.  I'll take that.  Still up over 10$.  Sustainable, pretty much, unless I either get really really unlucky, or just get really unlucky which puts me on tilt.
    This is a paragraph.  19?  Yup I was right.  Whatta genius.  I'm adequate at counting.  I think I could stand eating a slice of pizza and 3 buffalo wings.  Doesn't sound too bad.  And I'd be being a Hero to eat it like a Responsible.  The point is what else is going on.  Feelin' like going over 20 paragraphs again.  Whose gonna stop me, you?!  What else and crap.  One empty beer can.  That doesn't say too much either way.  It's less than two.  We're talking straight up one.  Anyway, crap and crap.  I don't know.  I wish they were making new Addicteds or Interventions.  I want to see new people with problems.  I've seen these people with problems already.
    What else.  I prefer Addicteds to Interventions.  Focus more on the problems, not trying to get them better.  Where's the fun in that.  Leanin' towards hamburger and fries.  It's comfort food.  Right?  I feel like it is.  I don't know.  What else is going on.  Tomorrow is a bunch of One's.  I can't wait for 11:11.  Both of them!  Finally, something to look forward to.  They say a broken clock is even right twice a day.  Where are they getting that information from.  It's illogical.  The clock is broken.  How can it be right twice.  I don't know what that riff was about.  It made more sense in my head, to be honest.
    Anyway, crap and crap.  21st paragraph and whatnot.  I think we saw a few minutes of Lenny Bruce in class.  A subdued version of him.  It was Fine.  I'm pretty sure the rest of class is just watching comedians or comedy in some form.  That's fine.  I like watching comedy.  In a room full of other people watching it with me?  Even better.  I get to time my laughs for strategy so other people will respect me more for what I'm laughing it.  How I'm laughing.  I've developed a quick, "Ha!" laugh, like a blurt, over the last few years.  I'm pretty proud of it, gotta say.  It's a quality laugh.
    Crap and crap.  I read it's healthy to eat hamburger if there's mushroom on it.  That was the gist of it.  I like mushroom and onion burgers.  I can commit myself to that in general when getting Hamburger.  These are the real issues?  What else and crap.  I don't know.  I don't know why I still get Camel Blue cigarettes.  Over 90% of the time I want a Newport.  But I ration in a few Camel Blues to keep it balanced.  I shuold just stop getting them.  But there is that 1 out of 10 or 1 out of 20 times I want a Camel Blue.  I'll keep you updated on this situation as it develops.  I guess.
    What else.  23rd paragraph.  I feel like 23 is a good number.  They made a movie about it.  In the movie it was a spooky number.  It wasn't a light-hearted romp about the number 23.  It was ominous and whatnot.  Crap and crap, can't end with 23?  Then the movie becomes my life.  Yeesh.  Lucky for us, the next few numbers are pretty good.  24, great.  25, even better.  26, I can live with that.  27, wonderful.  28, don't really care for.  What else is going on and crap.  I'm turning 28 in a month.  Maybe that's why I don't like it.  Who wants to get older.  Am I right?  Probably, I said it.  Why would I say it if I knew consciously I wasn't right.  Ask yourself that.
    Anyway.  I'm pretty impressed at how long Lighters tend to work.  In the post apocalyptic future (by that, I mean 2017), fire is what we will use for currency.  Not sure how the logistics of that'll work, but I said it.  I like saying things.  It's like thinking things but saying them.  That explains that.  The point is What Else.  I could even see myself gettin' to 30 today.  I got shit else to do and whatnot.  I was impressed by how fast Professor got back to me on Tuesday when I e-mailed him my Short Story idea.  Got a response in five minutes.  No heartache about whether it'll be okay.  Found out immediately.  The point is that was before The Occasion and thus a Brilliant but Fleeting memory of my life.
    Yeesh, 25th paragraph.  That's a fine place to end it, too.  We'll see how this goes.  I don't know.  Hittin' a wall, I feel.  Or anticipating hittin' a wall.  Somethin' like that.  Then again, who cares.  I used to have a drawer for socks, and a drawer for underwear.  Now I just use two drawers for socks and underwear.  I can't be bothered to separate these articles of clothing!  I don't have that kind of time to spare unfortunately.  The point is What Time is The Office on Tonight.  Also, bring back the Michael J. Fox show.  And on Fox, they have the Michael J. NBC show!  Sorry about that.  No reason to subject you to having to read that other than it kills time for me.  I could write it and then delete it.  That's still killing time for me.  But that sets a dangerous precident.  If I'm writing things and then deleting them, I'll stop writing them in the first place.  And then no time is being killed.
    The point is let's fuckin' write 5 more paragraphs because why not.  I don't wanna write 5 more paragraphs.  Three, maybe.  That's fair.  Three more paragraphs.  That brings me to 28.  I hate that number so much, jeez.  What else is going on.  I pass a Psychic on the bus to Queens College every day and sometimes I think about going in there.  She could straighten my life out, no problem.  I assume it's a she.  Who wants to see a male psychic.  Nobody needs that.  Tarot readings, palm readings.  She does it all.  At least those two things.  It says it on the building.  I want a handwriting analysis.  I know that's a thing, and slightly more based on science.  You write some crap and they analyze it.  That's not psychictry, though.  It's personality analysis.
    No need for it.  I know I have a personality.  I also know it's the 26th paragraph.  Do you know someone with the letter H in their name?  Yes, Several!  Go On!!!  What else and crap.  Oh, you must be talking about George H.W. Bush.  He's like George W. Bush but with an H!  Figured that riddle out.  The point is what else and crap.  I've fulfilled my civic duty writing this entry already.  The rest is just filler.  Anyway, crap and crap.  I could even get a cheese burger.  I haven't had that in a while.  It's like a hamburger but you eat it quicker.  Because of the cheese.  I don't have all the details but my anecdotal evidence seems to imply you eat cheese burgers quicker than hamburgers.  It's like you take a bite, but it bleeds into the next bite, because of the cheese.
    That's got to be a thing, right?  It would be great to be insightful about something.  The cheese can't be that many calories, a column of string cheese is only 60.  That's roughly how much cheese in a cheese burger.  Certainly no more than 2 columns.  Can't be.  What else.  Didn't lose too much in poker while writing this entry.  Roughly fifty cents.  Not insignificant, but could be worse.  I'm not done yet, though.  I'll keep you updated as this situation develops.  Crap and crap.  Only three more paragraphs after this to get to the magic number 30. I gotta do it.  I'm pot committed.  Gotta do something.
    Alright!  Doin' something!  That's good news.  I feel like the last ten paragraphs have transcended regular entry and just a whole lot of bullshit.  Usually transcending is a good thing.  No reason you can't transcend in the opposite direction, though.  Holy shit, the paragraph after this is the penultimate paragraph.  I can hardly contain my excitement.  Not really trying to, though.  What do I care.  I don't know.  Crap and crap.  Still get to watch the South Park from last night.  South Park stresses me out.  Allusions to the election.  I don't wanna be reminded of That Occasion.  Or Incident.  We can call it The Incident if you're not a fan of The Occasion.
    Yeesh.  Almost done.  I got that going for me.  Back under mediocrity.  Oh well, mediocrity was fun while it lasted.  What else is going on.  I don't know.  Order food when this is done.  Lie in bed.  Think about where I went wrong.  I've got some things on the docket is the point.  Hey, this is the 30th paragraph!  Perfect!  What else and crap.  I'll see ya later.

-6:41 P.M.
   

Wednesday, November 9, 2016

I Need To Get Laid

    100% of the sex I've sex was during Republican presidents.  Gotta look for silver linings somewhere, I guess.  The point is let's get entrying with it.  I wonder if Trump will subsidize grabbing women by the pussy.  As far as I could tell, that's one of his main issues.  The point is, the runner up title for today was Thank You For The Ride.  We had some fun obsessively checking poll numbers.  We had a debate or two.  A large part of the population really grew to like Hillary Clinton.  I'm just happy, in America, we're pretty much shielded from the opposite side.  Everyone In Class and On Bus today was sad.  I can live with an overwhelming gloominess, compared to having idiots celebrating right in my face.
    I thought I made a pretty good Facebook post, "Remember, American's may be stupid, but America is not.  Or the other way around.  The point is what else is on T.V."  That's a pretty good quote.  Twenty years from now, they're ranking quotes of the instant reaction to this election, that quote has gotta make the list.  Also, the pressure's on, now, for us to do something with our lives.  We can't just figure Well, collectively the world is doing good, I'll just ride that wave.  The world is going to Hell!  We gotta make the most of what we got to contribute to society.  In my case, watching T.V. about things.  No!  No more!  Now I gotta do things.  Sure, I've been writing a lot of crap for a long time, now.  It's entertaining enough.  But, I mean, I would love to be a professional writer in some respect.  I can't just ride the mediocrity train forever.  Gotta step up.
    That's my take away.  Shit, you mean I have to Try at things?  It's not all gonna come at once.  It's a gradual process, I'm telling myself so I can accept the crap I'm still doing even as we speak.  The point is Great.  I do get to write a short stream-of-consciousness story for my final paper in Comedy Class.  Gotta really step up.  The point is Step One is Getting Laid.  That'll get me in tune with everything and crap.  It's hard to get laid, though.  We'll see how this situation develops.  Also, in Poetry Class, we were talking about the election, and somehow we got to referring to it as The Occasion.  I like using that phrase for it.  The Occasion Happened.
    Anyway, what the what.  It's not the end of the world.  It might lead to the end of the world, but we'll worry about that when it comes, right?  Right!  The point is what else.  Fourth paragraph.  Can I run back to trying to do music?  I don't know.  Writing comedy crap, I can feel like I'm very gradually getting better.  Music, I feel like the mediocrity there is more permanent.  The point is we've got to Do Something.  Russell Brand had it right in that movie about Mrs. Marshall.  Also, what else and crap.  At least we can call Hillary Madame Runner Up.  That's better than nothing, right?  Half the class didn't show up.  They really think this is the end of the world.  Maybe I'm naive, but I have just enough faith in Donald Trump that he won't single handedly bring upon the apocalypse.
    He's got a good three week window in which I'll give him the benefit of the doubt of not turning out to be an evil dictator who will ruin America's standing in the world and empower our enemies.  Hear that?  21 days.  Get your shit together.  Giuliani, Christie, Gingrich, lookin' for spots in the Trump Administration.  Great.  The real Shit Team.  The real losers here are the people who were getting excited about Trump T.V.  Now what will they watch?  So sad.  My main goal now is going through the next four years avoiding hearing or seeing Donald Trump at all.  Just let me pretend it's not really happening. 
    What the what.  Sixth paragraph.  Watching Colbert last night really made me feel better.  That's part of why I wnat to be a writer now more than ever.  Comedy can be so cathartic.  It was inspiring.  Will I ever reach a level I could make a living off it and whatnot?  Remains to be seen.  But I figure my shot is in the double digits somewhere.  That's not too bad.  I guess I'm a little self delusional to some respect.  I figure I'll just keep riding the mediocrity train and see where I end up.  Maybe even make a transfer to the adequate train at some point.  Then I can get on the Money Train.  I've always wanted to be friends with Wesley Snipes!
    I think we all know Wesley Snipes would be a sharpshooter in the army.  Because of names.  That kind of crap is gonna get me to the adequate train?  For now, I enjoy my mediocrity.  It makes me happy.  Gotta figure out how to evolve from that, somehow.  Its not even mediocre.  It's nothing.  There's no reason to think it, there's no reason to say it.  Oh well, shows what you know!  And whatnot.  And what else is going on. It's funny because I'm stupid.  I've been runnin' with that concept for too long.  I was talking with my Mom before the election turned into a nightmare, talkin' about who would play Trump in the HBO movie about the election.  Phillip Seymour Hoffman woulda been great!  He's got acting chops, I'm not afraid of saying it.
    He might even be so good at acting he's fooled the world into thinking he's been dead for four years.  That's how good he is.  Eighth paragraph and whatnot.  Maybe I'm just terrible.  And I have to get a real job.  And contribute to society in a boring way.  I don't know.  I'm not far enough removed from my crap to look at it objectively.  Watching regular T.V. is ruined.  Now I gotta think I'm watching the same crap as the people who fucked things up by voting idiotically.  We need our own T.V.  Separate but equal.  But not equal.  Separate, sure, why not, what else.
    I don't know.  Gotta put together my Abbott and Costello riff.  Whose on first?  Trump.  No, he's the president!  I almost threw up in my mouth a little bit typing that.  Yeesh.  And we all know who would play Hillary Clinton.  Chelsea Clinton.  She's got the inside track of her mindset and would be a boon to any production of This Occasion.  It's like Macbeth.  You're not supposed to say the name.  Also, it's a tragedy.  Nailed it.  What else is going on.  I mean, Trump may be president, but he doesn't run our daily lives.  We can more or less continue living the way we want to.  I know, I know, there's a lot of shit he could do.  Supreme Court goin' to putt.  But, overall, just live your life.
    That's how I feel.  The point is tenth paragraph.  Gotta look for silver linings anywhere.  Jeez.  I still get to lie in bed and think about where I've went wrong with my life.  No one can take that away from me.  I can still continue getting Metrocards as the situation calls for.  I can still get my degree in a year.  I can still write some The Office Spec Scripts and try to see them getting made.  Hey, the first one I can write, it can be like the story is them picking up six years from the last one.  Alright!  See, things are already moving.  Gotta ride the wave of progress! 
    What the what.  One things for sure, Trump being president will have a huge impact on what we see in T.V. and movies.  More slanted towards viewers who are Trump Supporters.  There can be a show about terraforming called Drain The Swamp.  There could be a show about a hospital called All Lives Matter.  There could be a show about disabled people, and there's no title, it's just a 3 second clip of Trump mocking that disabled person at his rally.  See, there's a fortune to be made in creating content for Trump supporters.
    I ain't no sell out.  Probably not.  I haven't been presented with a situation that calls for me to sell out, so we can't say for sure.  Anyway.  Perhaps the reason I'm tolerating this news a little better is because it didn't surprise me.  I knew he had a good shot going into election night.  Most people just took for granted that she was gonna win.  Oh well.  Stupid Occasion, I hate it so much.  I feel like my classmates are a little naive.  It's like they think, Wait, things that are good are supposed to happen.  This was bad?  HOW COULD THIS HAPPEN?  Stupid naivety, I hate it so much.  Maybe we'll get lucky and Trump'll pull a Harrison.  That's right, I'd be happier with him dead.  I'm entitled to my own opinion... asshole!
    Anyway, crap and crap.  Thirteenth paragraph.  Hey, I did a Productive!  A mediocre Productive, but, hey, gotta start somewhere.  The good news is we're about to find out what all of Trump's secret plans were for dealing with domestic and foreign issues.  He's kept us in suspense, and, man, am I excited!  For sure it won't turn out he has no plans and was just bullshitting his way through debate points.  No, he's got all the right answers, and we're about to find them out!!!  Anyway, what else and crap.  I can see Trump getting bored in office and then lashing out at his supporters, It's Your Fault I'm President, For Electing Me. 
    I guess.  I'm never gonna be a writer.  What bullcrap.  Maybe I'm in a little bit of self denial because I'm a white man.  Probably.  Definitely.  In retrospect, sorry.  I can't do anything about it, though.  I wish I could.  I will continue fighting for everyone's rights the only way I know how-- mediocre comedy blog.  We all need something that keeps us sane.  My thing happens to have the word Crazy as one of the two words.  The point is that Trump is a boulder keeping us down.  We all gotta get up from that individually and together.  Me, I have no friends or social network.  I gotta do it individually.  That's life I guess.  When life hands you lemons, you thank God all you got was lemons and not a Donald Trump presidency.
    Life handing you lemons, that's a good thing.  The generic thing is life handing you nothing.  Now you got lemons.  You're where you were at before this whole thing plus some lemons.  Go crazy with 'em, that's what I say.  I like lemons.  If I could have some calorie free lemonade right now, sure, I'd go for it.  Anyway, what else and crap.  Fifteenth paragraph.  One entry almost down since The Occasion.  That's fine.  Gotta keep on goin'.  It really fuckin' bothers me that the senate didn't let Obama get his supreme cour through.  We were all just assumin', Okay, Clinton wins, doesn't make that much of a difference.  Well, now it does.  They were fuckin' obstructionist assholes and they're gonna benefit greatly from it.
    Man, Fucking Assholes, I hate them so much.  Stupid being a whilte male, makes me not properly sympathetic to other people.  And, most of all, stupid being a white male, being part of the STUPIDEST subset of people in America.  I don't know if I count as College Educated or not.  I'm in college.  I will be college educated.  I am to an extent.  The point is, watching the exit polls, you really come to the conclusion, Man, white people are fuckin' horrible.  Anyway, crap and crap.  Sixteenth paragraph.  Damnit, writing this made me feel pretty better.  Now back to the Hellhole of non-crazysheet life.
    Anyway.  Shit, back on the mediocre train and being comfortable with it.  Such is life.  The point is Mediocre is a sliding scale.  What may have been mediocre a year ago isn't now.  What may be mediocre now won't be next year.  Even the word Mediocre is mediocre.  Don't know how I reached that conclusion.  Probably by thinking of the word mediocre and thinking that's pretty mediocre.  Because of logic.  Abbott and Costello riff due tomorrow.  Probably just wake up early and do it in the morning.  Why not.  Now what's the Democratic Party leadership like.  Can we get back to Bernie Sanders talkin' up crap?  He's great, I like him.
    What else.  Eighteenth paragraph and whatnot.  Once I get deep into paragraphs, all my concerns and worries melt away.  I'm here in my zone doin' my thing.  Crap and crap.  Except the worry of the impending having nothing to do.  There's always crap on T.V.  T.V. has been a good friend to me in life.  My Mom said she's gonna stop watching news except for late night comedy shows.  I highly doubt it, but I'd be a big proponent of that.  No more bullshit when I'm trying to eat my supper.  Anyway, crap and crap.  Green light to write story for Comedy Class.  Poetry Class goin' fine.  Still gotta see advisor about what Spring Classes to take.  The point is my life is progressing not mediocre-ly, but adequately.
    Nineteenth paragraph!  What the what.  How can I even fathom having a writing career when I'm runnin' B's in English classes designed for 21 year olds.  I mean, I'm technically getting A's, but it's not like A is great, it's like an A for a random college student wasting his time with this crap.  Anyway, what the what and whatnot.  At least I get to see Dave Chappelle do sketch comedy in a few days.  That's a win.  Now's the time to build bridges between people who liked Hillary Clinton and people who accepted Hillary Clinton and people who barely tolerated Hillary Clinton.  Unite!  That's how I feel.  Anyway, crap and crap.  I'm doing good in poker.  I can make a living that way.  Not really contributing to society, but it would help me avoid a tedious work job.  If I'm a mega-good player, I could donate to charity.
    If I write enough, I get to the 20th paragraph.  I've come around a bit on considering poker gambling.  It's a game of skill.  But if you don't have a huge bankroll compared to the stakes you're playing, yeah, it's still kinda gambling.  That's why you're supposed to play within your means.  I don't know.  Who cares and whatnot.  No tellin' how long this entry'll be.  Probably at least this many paragraphs.  I'd bet on that every day of the week.  Even some days not in the week.  The days we thought of and never put into action.  Huh?  I mean, the point is, Wha?  What else is going on.
    I've grown so complacent with my mediocrity it's not even funny.  That's the problem.  That explains that.  Crap and crap, what else.  21st paragraph.  21st Paragraph Fox.  The point is Huh.  What else.  Well, made myself feel good about myself for two hours.  That's a net positive.  Even if I'm back to feeling like crap.  What else is going on.  I don't know.  Oh, right, right.  Need to get laid.  Well, my prospects for that are less than good.  Jeez.  I don't know.  One paragraph after this.  Then back to being The Incredible Sulk.  Anyway, what else is going on and crap.
    Last paragraph.  We did it and whatnot.  Yeesh.  I can put off the Abbott and Costello for next Tuesday.  Whose gonna stop me, You?  Probably not.  You wouldn't have a method to stop me nor a motive.  The point is The Weekend Is Long and The Hours Are Plentiful.  Anyway, crap and crap.  Knock some short story out of the park.  I've got it in me, I really feel.  Stream of Consciousness, I've got more practice than a lot of people.  If I try, It can maybe approach being legitimately good instead of just Undergrad-in-class good.  We'll see how this situation develops and what not.  The point is I knew this would pay off some day.  For sure.  I'm gonna do one more paragraph.  I'm stuck in a freeroll on poker so can't leave the computer anyway.
    23rd paragraph.  That's how I feel.  I'm at the most money I've had on Poker other than the time I got 20 dollars from my brother.  That's great.  Havin' something to do is key.  Can blow it all within several bad hours, though.  Nothin' is set in stone.  I can sit at the 1/2 cent tables with a full buy in of 2 dollars, instead of a minimum buy in of 80 cents.  I feel with this bankroll, this rewards outweigh the risks.  It's good to feel stuff.  Huh?  I don't know.  Crap and crap.  I just lost a pot in poker. THAT'S NOT SUPPOSED TO HAPPEN.  ONLY GOOD THINGS ARE SUPPOSED TO HAPPEN!
    Maybe I am cynical, it turns out.  Or maybe it turns out my classmates are just overly naive.  There's some discrepancy there, for sure, it turns out.  24th paragraph.  Microsoft Frontpage keeps goin' back to italics as the default.  Start a new sentence, it goes, Why not say this in italics?  Because SHUT UP ONLY NON-ITALICS IS SUPPOSED TO HAPPEN.  Where is justice.  Maybe I'm suppressing my reaction from the election and it's all coming out now in the form of Caps Locks.  As good a theory as any, I suppose.  The last 2 times I got Buffalo Wings they were too crispy and tasted like pork rinds.  Disgusting.  That is the real issu... WAIT THAT'S NOT SUPPOSED TO BE ITALICS.
    Stupid bullshit, crap and crap.  Boy, is it a good thing I'm in this freeroll, otherwise we would have missed all this wonderfulness!  Great.  I don't know what else and crap.  We haven't elected a Republican President in 12 years.  12 years ago was essentially when crazysheet.com started.  June of 2004, I believe.  And I remember writing an entry in school the day after the election, in colored pencil, because for some reason that's the only writing tool I had.  And I thought that it was appropriate because Bush is childish and color pencils are childish.  And it turned out he liked doing art, too.  The point is those were the days.  Wait, I hated those days.  Some other days were the days.
    Alright and whatnot.  The thing with attempting to write comedy when you're mediocre is, yeah, it's good enough that it's cathartic for me, but I gotta imagine you could care less about this crap.  Stupid mediocrity, I hate it so much.  What else is going on.  Will this entry reach 30 paragraphs?  Seems within reach.  How I do in poker will play a big role in how long this entry is.  Anyway, what else and crap.
    That's how that goes.  That counts as a paragraph?  Sure, why not.  That makes this one 27!  Closin' in on 30, which is pretty much my ceiling, I would imagine.  What else a... Damnit italics.  I hate it so much.  This is such bullshit.  Where is justice.  Maybe it's a sign.  Trump is gonna be the presidential equivalent of italics.  You heard it here first!  Jeez, I don't know.  What the what and whatnot.  Took a Klonpin halfway through election night yesterday.  I've taken like three in the past six months.  It was okay.  Maybe that's why I'm feelin' relatively chill about things.  Drugs!  Also, places legalizing marijuana including California!  You're gonna need it!
    Well, they have their solution.  Now we need ours.  If it was legal in New York, yeah, I'd probably try it again.  Not sayin' I would definitely get in the habit of doing it again, but I'd give it a shot.  As it is, not worth the hassle.  I don't have money or connections and I live at home where it would be easily detectable and my parents disapprove of it at least for me on account of my mental bullshit.  But if it was legal, yeah, I'd give it a shot.  So I got that to look forward to in, what, four, six, eight years?  Only a matter of time.  What's this, the 28th paragraph?  Perfect.  Two more after this.  Just right.
    Okay.  Now-- for our regular segment, A Joke My Mom Made!!-- Christie should be the guy in the cabinet in charge of transportation.  This A Joke My Mom Made segment is brought to you buy My Mom.  Without her, it wouldn't be possible.  What else is going on.  I've gotten in the habit of doing Comedy Class Homework late.  No reason to stop now.  Approaching 10 dollars on poker.  We're gettin' to some stability in the bankroll.  Really gettin' there.  What else and crap.  30 paragraphs.  Probably roughly a paragraph or two overall, put together from pieces, worth reading.  Stupid mediocrity, so alluring, what with its promise of adequateness and its work-required-amount of crap.
    Last paragraph!  Finally and whatnot.  I don't have to sulk.  There's great things on T.V. that need watching.  When the world calls for a hero to watch T.V. adequately, one man answers the call-- The Guy Whose Me!  Alright!  My hair has about a dozen and a half standard ways of looking.  Depending if I just got out of bed, I'm walking to school, I'm in school, I've been at computer for a few hours, there's gotta me almost 20 different looks it takes on.  And, you know what?  Two or three of them are adequate.  And I have no control over it.  I like to look in the mirror and adjust it a bit, thinking I have some input in this equation.  I don't.  I don't even know how to finish an entry.
    31st paragraph.  Still in the freeroll-- get off my back!  My elementary school was P.S.31.  I'm not tellin' tales out of school there.  I'm telling tales of school.  Alright, we're deep in the mediocrity level now.  At best, mediocrity.  In general, my overall mediocrity is moments of adequateness balanced by a whole lot clear-cut shit.  I don't know.  Sure feels like the last paragraph this time.  What else is going on.  I don't know.  Crap and stuff, I guess.  They asked me to see my I.D. when I voted yesterday.  Thats not supposed to happen.  I had it, but I was like, I'm pretty sure you're not supposed to ask that.  And I gave it to him, and was like, If I didn't have my I.D., would you turn me away?  And he was like, No, it's just so I could get to your name quicker.  I wasn't buyin' it but in retrospect that's probably all it was.
    Ok, last paragraph.  I really feel it this time.  32 seems like a good number.  As of now, I don't have a problem with the number 32.  What else is going on.  Entering hand-for-hand play in freeroll.  This is gonna take forever.  Not literally.  Probably not, at least.  The good news is What Else.  Maybe even get started on Short Story this weekend.  We've already established that weekends are long and hours are plentiful.  It's good to take stock in what you've got going for you in life.  About to cash in the freeroll, unless something goes terribly wrong.  That's good.  At least 55 cents.  That's not nothin'.  What else and crap.  Do I have to write a 33rd paragraph.  33 is a number.  I learnt it from fractions.
    Jeez.  I guess this is the last paragraph.  We'll see and whatnot.  As long as I have crazysheet to look forward to and enjoy every other day, I think I may just be okay.  I even have poker to muck around with while I'm writing.  That's great.  Alright, cashed in freeroll.  I did it!  Wonderful.  Last paragraph for sure, now.  What else is going on.  Three of these are roughly 100 paragraph.  That's a lotta paragraph.  The point is most of it is bullshit and crap.  Alright, busted in the tourney.  Did bring me to over 10 dollars, if I can not lose some in the ring game I'm playing concurrently.  Hey, I won a pot instead of losing one.  And this paragraph is pretty much over!  I'll catch you later friends.

-8:09 P.M.
     
   

Monday, November 7, 2016

You're The Cynical One... Asshole!

    Class Workshopped my poem today.  They all loved how cynical it was!  Brilliant cynicism!  I wasn't trying to be cynical.  Cynical is the pits.  When I said that at the end of the workshop, got one of the biggest laughs I've gotten all semester.  Oh, that Michael, always being cynical.  Also we don't know what cynical means.  That's a good possibility on why that crap happened.  The point is what else.  On the bus ride home I realized, whenever you see a basketball hoop in a park, it never has a net.  Did they used to have nets?  Is someone stealing the nets?  What purpose could they have for these nets?  Riff'd it.  I also found a dime while walking home.  That makes today a net win.  Net!  All comes together!
    What a terrible paragraph.  Stupid paragraph, givin' me reason to be cynical.  While waiting for the bus for almost an hour, a girl went to another girl, So-- Ping Pong Tomorrow Night?  Ping Pong Tomorrow Night.  Love it.  If you have Ping Pong Tomorrow Night every day, you never get to play ping pong.  That was my takeaway from that eavesdropping.  Anyway, what else.  The best part of my poem is one line ends with an ellipses.  Nothin' wrong with that.  The point is Hey it's a week again.  That's good news.  Election is comin' soon.  What are the odds Donald Trump sues the American Public for voting against him.  One in One?  Two in one?  Is this a situation where something can be more than 100% possible?
    Probably not-- the real number is roughly 20%.  50% is you expand it from the American Public to the Election division of the government.  Right?  He's gotta sue someone, I'm callin' it.  The point is what else.  Why can't you have ping pong tomorrow night and still have it tonight.  Logic, that's why.  If you were having ping pong tonight, you'd say Ping Pong Tonight?  Or maybe Ping Pong Tomorrow Night And Tonight?  The way it is doesn't leave much room for interpretation.  What else is going on.  I shaved yesterday.  #Adult.  I've written a hundred paragraphs of bullshit in a week.  #Child.  There I go with my cynicism again, oh boy.  What else and crap.  I had a dream I had to do more work for classes than I've gotten accustomed to and it was a nightmare.
    That's how I feel.  Who can say for sure.  Abbott and Costello riff either due tomorrow or Thursday.  Either way, I'm handin' it in Thursday.  That'll show Professor to Shame Me for not doing work on time.  Fourth paragraph.  My Class today is on the seventh floor.  The elevator goes to the sixth floor.  Lately it's been broken and only goes to the fifth floor.  Today I got off at the fourth floor.  For Vending Machine on the Fourth Floor purposes.  Strategy.  So I'd have a delicious beverage to drink during class.  Anyway, crap and crap.  I love listening to my own music.  It's like I get to re-live doing something productive every night.  Sure, there's no productivity in listening to my own music.  But it reminds me that I had written the music.  Productive.  #Adult?
    Maybe.  The point is Supermarket stopped selling Product 19.  What are they, morons?  You gonna make me eat Special K like an animal?  Shame on you.  It's possible they still sell it but people are buying it all up for strategy.  Who can say for sure.  I spilled some soda on the kitchen floor and to my horror I couldn't soak it all up with my sock.  Had to actually get a fuckin' paper towel.  I got no time for paper towels!  Just let me step on the spill, that's the most effort I want to put into this clean up process.  Gonna vote tomorrow.  All I can say is they better have stickers.  These Democrats are gonna rig this election, they're gonna bus me in from half a block away to cast a ballot signifying the candidate I support!  Illegal.
    I'd take that bus.  Just for fun.  I wish there would be poll watchers at my voting station.  Probably not around these parts. What kind of crap could I pull in this situation.  My first thought, go up to them and say, I voted against your candidate you fucking piece of shit.  I need to think of some other shenanigans I could pull. So, how many minorities do you think you scared off today?  Get 'em to loosen up, then, Bam I recorded it on my i-phone.  I'd be a hero.  Anyway, crap and crap.  Apparently Democrats usually lead in early voting.  Wonderful.  I got no subsubstandard riff on that.  I thought I might.  I introduced the fact.  Figured some comedy would come up.  No such luck.  Whatta Cynical.
    Great, seventh paragraph.  That's how We Do.  Poetry Assignment for Wednesday is I gotta write a poem to another poet.  What crap.  I don't wanna associate with the likes of Allen Ginsberg and Walt Whiteman.  What chumps.  I could write to my Professor.  It could be called Hey, Remember Me-- From Class?  Great.  Got the title, that's step one.  Tomorrow is Reckoning Day.  My favorite part is when Hillary Clinton wins and all of our lives instantly become collectively better.  That's not a joke.  We could leave this dark mess in the annals of history books.  Maybe even have some pride in our country.  Hey, when the shit hits the fan, the American people really prove their adequacy.
    And people call me a cynic.  Bah!  Anyway, so-- ping pong tomorrow night?  Love it.  And it's not beer pong.  It's regular ping pong.  These girls have had ping pong on the schedule for too long, now it's almost here.  While waiting for the bus, a girl came up to me and asked about the other bus that stops there that I don't take, did the Q17 come?  Yeah, it comes a lot.  All the time.  Surely it had come in some previous amount of minutes and it will come again eventually, too.  I just said Yeah.  It came.  I had seen it with both of my eyeballs.  I think it's the Q17.  Could be wrong.
    Whatever.  Ninth paragraph!  Great and crap.  About half the class explicity used the word cynical on the workshops I got back.  This wasn't a fluke of the feedback-in-class process.  How dare them.  Maybe I do tend to be a little cynical, but I feel it's balanced out by humor and a general sense of who cares.  Who cares not in a cynical sense.  But who cares in a whatever sense.  Not whatever in a what bullshit sense, whatever in a who cares sense.  I feel I've explained myself adequately.  The point is I'm up a dime from where I was when today started.  Finally, going to QC for the last two and a half years is paying off!  I feel bad for whoever lost that dime.  They're down a dime today and they probably don't even know it.
    Ignorance is bliss.  Pretty sure that's what that saying is for.  Losing dimes.  Tenth paragraph.  Alright!  What else and crap.  I don't know.  One of the poems we workshopped today was called Generation Z.  And everything in the poem is ubiquitous for everyone.  Stupid Generation Z, I hate them so much.  They don't even know things.  Not like Generation Y, we're the cat's pajamas.  Anyway, what else is going on.  Is the next generation gonna wrap around back to Generation A?  Let's hope so.  Things are crap in the news, we use technology.  Who doesn't.  You ain't special.  Generation Y used technology before it was cool.  That's why we're the best.
    I don't know anymore.  I remember a day where it was cool to use Facebook because it was only for people in college.  Now we live in a day where it's cool to use Facebook because movies tell us about it.  Where has society gone wrong.  We used to be able to poke people on Facebook!  Does anybody remember poking?!  They might still have that.  I don't know.  The point if who cares.  And by that I mean whatever.  What else is going on.  Eleventh paragraph.  That's pretty cool.  I remember a day there was a crazysheet.com.  Kids today will never know the joy of crazysheet.com.  How I pity them. 
    What else is crap.  Who are the likely candidates for 2020.  We know Kanye, but who else.  I don't care.  We'll worry about that when it comes-- you know, next year?  Oh, my medication.  What else and crap.  In 2024, one would imagine Tim Kaine being a leading contender.  He's really made a name for himself this year, and, boy, is he getting people excited.  That's probably gonna be the main story from this year.  America getting Tim Kaine Fever.  Yeesh.  Still the 12th paragraph it seems.  That's alright.  I like paragraphs.  They make me happy.  Dave Chappelle hosting SNL this week.  That's great.  I haven't had me some Chappelle Comedy in a dog's age.  Well, a week or two ago when I was watching Larry Sanders.  He has a great role in one episode.
    I'm pro-Dave Chappelle, I don't care who knows it.  When I was in high school, he was the bees' knees.  Everyone loved them some Dave Chappelle's Show, no matter who you were.  Oh, I also watched Robin Hood: Men In Tights a week or two ago.  I guess there's been more Dave Chappelle in my life than I realized.  Apparently Chappelle doesn't like Clinton.  Well, there goes that.  I still get the impression he supports her more than Trump.  Well, close enough.  Anyway.  What do you mean people are entitled to their own opinions?  Huh?  But what if their opinion is wrong?  I'm With Her.  Gotta be with something.  And I'm sort of pot committed to the whole thing.
    Crap and crap.  Fourteenth paragraph.  Dave Chappelle knows all about being Pot Committed!  He made an entire movie about it.  What else is going on.  Good for him.  Maybe he's hosting on Saturday because they're primed to vote for legalized marijuana in some states.  Poor Dave Chappelle.  Just like Bill Maher is pigeonholed for political humor, Chappelle is for weed.  Except Maher also talks about weed.  And Chappelle apparently talks about politics.  The point is Dave Chappelle and Bill Maher are a match made in Heaven.  What else is going.  On.  I may be pigeonholed for Retarded Humor.  Oh well, lots of stuff you can mine there.  Retarded can span pretty much everything on the spectrum.
    Yeesh.  Almost 3/4ths through this crap.  Did I mention I waited almost an hour for Bus?  Pretty sure I did.  It's pretty notable and whatnot.  My Mom didn't know who Dave Chappelle is.  The only reference I thought she would know is Robin Hood.  But it just feels wrong to refer to Dave Chappelle as the black guy in Robin Hood: Men in Titles.  Sorta deligitimizes everything he's done.  The point is what else and crap.  I was sure Chappelle's Show was big enough of a cultural phenomenon that she would know it.  Oh well, live and learn.  I'm losing in poker.  That's not supposed to happen.  And I was just at almost-sustainable amount.  Oh well.  Let's try to make it last another week.  That's a good mindset.  Keep me from gettin' into too much trouble.
    Sixteenth paragraph.  I'm surprised most writers don't constantly tell you what paragraph they're on.  Just lost with a flopped straight to a rivered flush.  Oh well.  He wasn't doing anything wrong, I wasn't.  That's poker.  The point is will I eat dinner when it gets here or save it for a few hours.  I'm leanin' towards saving it.  These are the real issues.  I don't know.  I started this entry forty minutes later than I normally would.  That's the real issues.  Crap and crap.  Probably vote after class tomorrow as opposed to before it.  Because of Strategy.  Strategy to get out of bed as late as possible.
    Whatever.  In the sense of who cares.  Crap and crap.  Gotta take a bathroom break soon.  Just lettin' ya know.  A little Inside Baseball there.  Took the bathroom break.  Went about as expected.  Nothin' great or terrible.  What else is going on.  Down to roughly 4.20 in poker.  My Man!  But it's really 4.18.  No reason to celebrate there.  Crap and crap.  I used to be pretty much addicted to marijuana.  I know it's not chemically addictive, but I relied on it pretty heavily.  Oh well, live and learn, apparently.  Now I drink alcohol like an Adult.  What else is crap and whatnot.  This is the seventeenth paragraph.  You know what that means!  Next is the eighteenth paragraph!  I've crunched the numbers and that's what I came up with.
    Alright, alright.  Losin' a lot in poker.  But still at a decent amount where if I can avoid losing much more I have enough and whatnot.  Anyway.  It's that time again-- tomorrow gotta get a new Metrocard.  Whatta joy.  Not playin' bad, really.  Just runnin' poorly.  Two pair to a higher two pair.  Flopped straight to rivered flush.  Nothin' to be really upset about.  The good news is what else.  Not playing perfectly, for sure.  But not terribly.  The good news is Let's Move On.  Why are motorcycles a lot louder than cars.  I don't like it.  I'm waitin' for the bus, motorcycle drives by, too loud.  Makes my ears hurt.  Makes me want to not even leave the house in the first place.
    Great.  What else.  Now I gotta think about what to do with my time between finishing this and eating.  Lie in bed and think about where I've gone wrong, that's a given.  Gotta allocate a lot of time for that every day.  Anyway.  I don't know.  Check NYTimes and Nate Silver every five minutes.  That'll take up a lot of time.  Crap and crap.  I don't know.  What else.  In Poetry Teacher was like, this poet spoke at Obama's inagouration, this one I thnk spoke at Bill Clinton's, I don't know who did Bush... and I was like, Dr. Seuss?  As a joke.  He reacted like, Oh, really?  That sounds right.  Not a that sounds right like he understood the jokeful content and was like, Yeah, Bush is an idiot, that sounds right.  It was like, Yeah, that happened, you're right, I think.
    Guess I don't have to respect him anymore.  Whew.  20th paragraph.  Whatta joy.  Just folded KK because I was in a rush to use bathroom and misclicked.  Great, just great.  There goes My Life.  I do miss Clicked.  The sequel to Click.  Great movie.  Click is.  Not being sarcastic, I love that movie.  It's funny and its got heart.  Lots of things going for that movie.  Bad Santa II coming out soon.  That might be the first movie I'll see in theaters since GhostBusters.  I went through a stretch after I got sick, seeing a lot of movies in the theaters, for years.  Either I dropped doing it because of school taking over, or there just haven't been any movies I wanna see.  Who can say for sure.  The point is what else and crap.
    Jeez.  No tellin' how many paragraphs this'll be.  Already over the minimum.  21 is where we're at right now.  I did finally do the Comedy Class blackboard post.  #Hero.  Anyway, crap and crap.  The point is What's Happening To These Nets?!  I feel like my intuition is telling me they started out with nets.  But then somebody is stealing them.  That's my gut reaction.  The question is who would steal these nets.  Are they just fans of causing mischief?  There's no logical reason why you'd need a basketball net.  Unless if you got your own basketball stand and hoop, and are too cheap to pay for your own net.  That's a strong possibility I guess. 
    Anyway, What The What.  Basketball Stand.  Sure I know things.  Crap and crap.  I know the phrase 'Nothing But Net'-- but nothing including net?  That's preposterous!!!  Nailed it.  The point is crap and crap.  I messed up one line in the poem we workshopped today.  I mean, the poem itself is a C.  But there's one D line which I coulda done better with.  Oh well, live and learn.  Live backwards is Evil.  I ain't tellin' tales out of school, look it up yourself.  You'll find that I was right all along.  Jeez.  Crap and crap.  That reminds me, I shuld watch this season of Ash vs. The Evil Dead.  I like that kind of crap because that's the kind of crap guy I crap.
    Whatever.  Don't be so cynical.  Sure, great.  Stop being sarcastic.  I... Uhh... I just can't win.  Oh well, what else is going on.  You want cynical, I'll show you cynical.  That should be my mindset going forward with the next poem to be workshopped.  In general, an I'll Show Them, I'll Show All Of Them is a great mindset to be in for most things.  23rd paragraph.  We gettin' there, oh yeah.  Gettin' where?  Only time will tell.  Anyway, what else.  Back to a four day week this time around.  Could be worse.  That's how I feel.  Should aim for a 25'r today.  Two paragraphs to go, essentially.  After this one.  I don't know if I have it in me.  Probably.
    Penultimate Bullshit!  Alright!  What fun.  It's dark outside now.  That usually happens at night.  I've done the math and crunched the numbers.  Crunch is a good candy bar.  It has its name embossed in the bar.  That's how I feel.  I gotta start gettin' into the habit of shaving every week instead of every two or three weeks.  It'll make it easier.  I like things that are easier.  I don't wanna spend 20 minutes shaving my bullshit crap.  The point is what else.  Can't fathom the joy of Clinton winning.  We did it!  We're still adequate!  Can't wait.  Hopefully.  I should write my poem tonight because I'm busy tomorrow night.  Ping Pong is Tomorrow Night.
    Great.  What else.  I don't know.  Crap and crap.  Whatever.  Just won a big pot in poker.  Back to where I started the day, plus a few cents.  You add in that dime I found, I'm doin' pretty well.  Anyway.  I don't want Allen Ginsburg to read my poem.  Sure, he's dead.  But so was Dr. Seuss in 2001.  That didn't stop him from supposedly reading at Bush's inauguration.  What else.  Almost done.  Jeez.  What a productive waste of time.  That's how I feel.  I don't know.  Gotta get drunk and watch the second episode of Tracey Ullman.  Because I'm a creature of habit.  That's how that goes.  I'll see ya later.

-7:46 P.M.
   

Friday, November 3, 2016

Once Upon A Title

    Hello friends and crap.  50/50 I write this entry right now.  If I get into a groove quickly, that bodes well.  If I don't, well, then fuck it.  I got no time for crap that isn't groovy!I used a match instead of a lighter for the first time in years.  Whatta rush!  Feels like I'm doing something productive.  Like I'm gettin' something done.  Exercise, creating fire by myself, it being free.  Lots of good things going on there.  Anyway.  I've adjusted to this new format of the month quite alright.  Who would have guessed.  Not me.  I don't like to guess things.  Too much stress-- what if I guess wrong?  I can't handle that kind of defeat.
    Does this count as a groove?  I mean, it's crap-- but I'm writing it fast.  Counts as a groove in my book.  I guess.  I have a recurring dream I'm a successful comedy writer.  For varying shows, depending on the dream.  But a mediocre one.  One either on the verge of being fired or was just fired.  Oh well, gotta take the good with the bad.  Also, my literal dreams turn out to be the same as my career daytime not sleeping dreams.  You think I'm writing this crap just for fun?  Tryin' to get into a groove.  By 2026 I'm gonna be in such a comedy groove, oh boy.  2026 is the future.  The future is scary.
    By the time, all comedy writers'll be robots anyway.  I just can't win.  I guess.  This new Maury guy, the British guy, he doesn't know what the word however means.  You said No, HOWEVER, the lie detector determined... you were telling the truth.  That's not a however.  I heard one phrase of this show and I'm already smarter than it.  I guess.  Third paragraph.  Looks like I'm groovin' it up, I guess.  Anyway.  I actually have to write two poems this weekend.  One for workshopping due tomorrow night.  Another one just as a regular assignment due Monday.  Great, just great.  At least that increases the amount of words I can make up from 2-4, all the way to 4-8.  Gonna knock some words out of the park.
    I'm tryin' to think of some great words.  So far I have one or two mediocre ones.  First comes the made up words, then comes the poems.  Them comes the women.  Say Hello To My Little Friend.  Then Warwick Davis comes through the door and goes, You Alright?  Cause British people talk that way.  Al Pacino is relatively short.  I would guess around 5'6.  Good for him.  Internet says 5'7.  Figures.  I'm still guessin' 5'6.  I'm a big fan of guessing.  It's like I think it's something and aren't sure if it's right!  That explains that.  Anyway, crap and crap.  What's going on and crap.  One of Trump's only newspaper endorsements is from the KKK paper.  That sounds about right. 
    No joke there.  I mean, in the abstract, sure it's a joke.  But it's a fact and there's no comedy mining that fact.  Well, there could be.  It's beyond me, though.  Great, just great.  This election is like The Furnace to Home Alone Guy.  You hear me?  I'm not scared anymore!  Except deep down, he still is scared.  He won't let on, but you don't get over your fear of such magnitude in just one line of dialogue.  Probably not.  Am I reading too much into Home Alone?  Not possible.  Yeesh.  Let's get to some goofballs and funnybones.  I like having money on poker.  Now, when I go to sleep at night, I'm content that I'll have crap to do the next day.
    I like being content.  It makes me happy.  I guess.  I watched Draft Day yesterday for the first time since I saw it in the theaters.  Not very realistic.  A lot of crap that happens that doesn't follow logic.  I like the special effects, though.  When someone's on the phone, it shows a split screen with each person on the screen at the same time.  It has embossed letters saying what day it is, and crap, and it's in 3-d.  The camera pans across the city of Cleveland and the letters look like they're part of the scenery, being stationary compared to the... thing... they... this makes sense, right?  I'm no good at explaining things.  Also, Terry Crews is in it.  One of my favorite people.
    Anyway, what else.  I have the Eddie Murphy The Nutty Professor saved on my DVR but it won't work.  Damn it all to Hell.  Great, what else.  Seventh paragraph.  Anyway.  Have you heard the good news about string cheese?  Probably.  I feel like I've talked about that already a day or two ago.  The point is I gotta write the poem.  Knock it out of some parks and whatnot.  The question is will I write it in my Notebook or will I write it on Computer.  We'll see how this situation develops.  What will be the content of the poem.  We know it will include made up words.  We know I'll be aiming for an A and settle for a B.  Content, though.  That's tricky.
    Anyway.  Today's Friday.  How about that.  I don't know.  Crap and crap.  Whatta do with the rest of the day.  Not there yet, though.  Only halfway through the entry and whatnot.  The first half.  That goes quicker.  Quicker hardcore.  What else.  Stupid having to light a match.  Now I'm more aware of how many cigarettes I'm smoking.  Somehow it all adds up to a pack a day.  I smoke a lot in a row, though.  I don't know how I pull that off.  Also, I'm pretty sure I don't really inhale fully most the time.  So it's healthy.  Good for me.  Wait, this is the eighth paragraph?  I was sure it was the ninth!  Fuck!  Well, there goes my life.
    Well, this is the ninth paragraph.  That's not so bad.  It's a logical continuation of the end of the last paragraph, so it's pretty close, I feel.  Up to over 6 dollars in Poker!  Alright!  And for sure I won't fall from that.  That's why I feel comfortable talking about it.  I can only go up.  Yeesh.  The point is by the end of this entry I'll have lost three dollars and feel like crap.  Anyway, what else.  Just lost a min pot I could have won if I bet on the flop or turn.  And I had turned a gutshot.  Whatta failure.  The good news is I can only go up from here.  Right?  That's how I feel.  The good news is what else.  Just won a big pot with AA vs KK.  Kickin' ass and not bothering to take names.  Hey, I kicked their ass, it doesn't matter what their names is!
    Whew.  What else is going on and crap.  I wish against wish I could watch The Nutty Professor.  It lay dormant in my DVR for weeks or months, I had no interest.  Now that I can't watch it, I want to watch it exponentially more!  Life is terrible, that's the point.  Well, I guess I can watch The Rap Game III: Back 2 The Rappin' in about a year.  So I got that to look forward to and think about with all my mind.  What else and crap.  There's a great freeroll at 4:30.  Ought to at least start it.  I can start it and go all in and try to double or triple up, and if not, forget it.  Or I could approach it for real.  These are the days of our lives.
    Yeesh, crap and crap.  Double digit paragraph.  I guess last one was, too.  This one is higher than ten, though.  That's a thing.  Double digits higher than ten.  If you ain't got zero, ten is the completion of single digits.  Let's get real.  I can start writing the poem concurrently with this entry.  That would be a hoot and a half.  Alright, wrote a solid B- poem.  It's sixteen lines!  I wouldn't lie to you.  You write a poem, you got 16 lines?  That's pretty good.  I think I made up only one word.  But I use words that don't go together a few times.  That's poetry.  Alright!
    What else and crap, 12th paragraph.  I have to write a second poem.  I should do that before tomorrow, too.  That way I can pick the better one for workshopping.  It's strategy, you wouldn't understand.  Anyway, I did something productive.  Now I'm back here.  I feel pretty great about myself.  I did five minutes of work.  That's more work than I usually do within a five minute span.  Just mucked up a few poker hands.  Gotta get back into Poker Playing Groove.  You know, for strategy?  Right, right... Anyway.  Obama is on Bill Maher tonight apparently.  I like that guy.  Both those guys.  In Larry Sanders, Bill Maher makes an appearance once or twice and does a few jokes, and they're just regular jokes.  Not political.  I kinda feel bad for him.  Now he's pigeonholed into only doing political crap.  I wouldn't like that.
    Pigeonholed is a phrase for some reason.  I don't really wanna find out the reason.  Sounds dirty.  Maybe that's why.  Pigeons are notoriously dirty.  Anyway, crap and crap.  I feel bad for Obama.  He's pigeonholed into only being The President.  That's even worse probably.  What else and crap.  I'm pigeonholed into being an idiot.  We all got problems is the point.  Anyway.  Great Freeroll starts in ten minutes.  I really should add the word Freeroll/freeroll into Microsoft Frontpage Dictionary.  Maybe it's not a word, but I feel like it should be.  My website, I can do what I want.  I say it's a word.  Hey, I didn't need to do it separately for capitalized and non-capitalized!  Saved me a whole ton of time that I can devote to this entry.  Microsoft Frontpage doesn't even recognize Frontpage as a word.  And they use it as a word in their title.  It says explicitly Microsoft FrontPage.  Well, they do count FrontPage as a word it turns out.  You gotta capitalize the Page, though.
    What The Hell am I talking about.  AA!  Won the blinds.  That'll show them.  Fourteenth paragraph.  That's pretty good.  That's a lotta paragraph.  And I write a lotta entry.  I'm stickin' with using entry as plural.  I'm pot committed and whatnot.  I liked the Tracy Ullman show last week.  Probably because I got drunk.  Usually I just get buzzed.  I was drinkin' shots, though.  Not mixin' it in.  That was when I was writin' the song.  Figured I'd loosen myself up a bit.  Just lost about fifty cents in a pot.  I'm fine with how it went.  Had 88, flop was 9 high, I check call.  Turn gives me an open ended straight draw without the card being a 10, I call.  River is a high card, check fold.  I'm fine with that.  JJ!  Won the 6 cents someone bet.  AK suited!  Called a 3 bet preflop.  Flopped nothing!  Checked around.  Turned nothing!  River put 2 pair on the board!  Check called a bet!  We each had AK!
    Man was that exciting!!!  I gotta cool down.  Yeesh.  The point is I made the right call on the river like a pro!  Fifteenth paragraph.  No one wants to read that.  Well, you can extrapolate that to pretty much everything I say.  That'll show you, that'll show all of you.  Not sure what that means.  Or where I am.  Or what's going on.  Anyway.  Callin the 3 bet in the small blind with AK suited.  I don't wanna raise then be forced to flip a large chunk of change.  Just see the flop.  That's how I roll.  If I had a sustainable bankroll, sure, that's a four bet.  Anyway, what else is going on and crap.  Another hand I woulda played differently with a more sustainable bankroll.  678 in flop, I have J9 with three to a flush.  Bet, raise, I fold. 
    Can't be muckin' around with those hands with my bankroll.  Unless I just lost a big pot or two and am on tilt.  Then, let's gamble!  Anyway, crap and crap. 2815 in FreeRoll compared to the 2500 starting stack.  I gotta stop this.  I'm not even just doing interesting hands.  It's all crap and stuff.  Alright, let's get back into CrazySheet groove.  Sixteenth paragraph.  Whattado.  I gotta shave this weekend.  For strategy.  What else is going on.  I could get drunk again tonight.  Nobody's stopping me.  It's all about strategy, what does strategy call for.  That's a good approach to second poem.  One I write sober, one I write drunk.  Then I got Options.
    What else.  Obama raggin' on young people watching Nickelodeon.  I've completed the mandatory maximum of serving as president for eight years, and they stay the same age!  Not sure how that makes sense or is logical or applies.  Sure is one or two sentences, though.  Anyway, crap and crap.  I don't know.  Last entry was, what, 31 paragraphs?  As of now I feel I can go further than the 20 paragraph standard.  We'll see how this situation develops.  Lost most my chips in FreeRoll with three of a kind and top kicker to a full house.  Oh well, crap happens.  I don't know.  Where am I.  Writin' stuff.  Seventeenth paragraph.  Man, I'm a Comedy Machine.  Well, not comedy.  I'm a Paragraph Machine.  There we go.
    What else and crap.  Obama was/is a good role model.  Clinton would be/already is a good role model.  Trump is the biggest asshole you'll ever meet.  Even without meeting him!  That's what's at stake at this election.  Anyway, crap and crap.  He's friends with Home Alone II, though.  I don't know how to feel about that.  Anyway, crap and crap.  Let's get that Pigeon Lady elected president.  What else is going on.  Now we know what Kevin McCallister was screamin' about lookin' in the mirror.  Trump.  No, it was the aftershave.  Get off my website!  What else and crap.
    Nineteenth paragraph.  Gettin' real into the shit now.  Too bad there's never gonna be a draft again.  Finally, being 5'2 would come in handy.  Save my life and whatnot.  Now, it's done shitcrap for me.  Whenever I see a lady whose like 4'10, I'm confident and crap around them.  But that's like, what, 2% of women?  Life ain't fair and I'm gonna talk crap about it!  And the real kicker is women who are 4'10 still prefer taller people.  Whatta jip.  Whatta else is going on.  Whatta watch with the rest of my day.  I've narrowed it down to everything except The Nutty Professor.  Unless they're showing that on live T.V.  Then, Alright!
    What else.  I've fulfilled my mandatory number of paragraphs after this one.  Feels like I'm gonna go over it, though.  Can't argue with a feeling.  Mostly because feelings don't have the cognitive capacity to argue.  They're feelings.  They can't do things.  Right?  Right.  What else.  The point is String Cheese is surprisingly filling.  One column is 60 calories, only 3% daily cholesterol.  Tastes pretty good.  Fills you up.  Lots of reason to eat string cheese for strategies.  I don't even wanna think about putting it on crackers.  That would blow my mind.  Let's not even go there yet.
    Great.  What else.  I don't know.  Who cares.  Anyway.  What.  Huh.  Great.  Last paragraph.  Let's see, words, words.  Poem to write.  Blackboard post to post for Comedy Class.  Maybe I'll finally do it this time.  Abbott and Costello Riff due in a week.  Things are pilin' up, boy.  What else.  I have to e-mail Professor ahead of time to see if I can get away with less pages if I'm doin' the riff for the Comedy Assignment.  I don't know.  A few more sentences to go.  Crap and crap.  I don't know, I'm done here.  I'll see ya later.

-5:45 P.M.

Wednesday, November 2, 2016

Let's Try To Write An Entry!

    Well, you're not really involved.  Just me. I'm gonna let's try to write an entry.  No school today.  Usually write afterschool.  That's how that goes. Jeez this is no good.  Soldier on!  I'm playing Poker.  That's a thing.  That should keep me up on it.  Up on it is a phrase, right?  And it applies here?  Should be.  Not feelin' it.  Maybe come back to it in half an hour or some crap.  Got an Extra Credit in Poetry last class.  Did an assignment he posted without posting the poems we had to write about, I got mine from the internet, most people just didn't do it.  A.  Extra Credit.  That's how I roll and crap.  Got a Check Plus on Song Poem.  Guess the effort wasn't worth a Check Plus Plus.  Or, maybe it would have been, if the song wasn't so terrible.
    Oh well, live and learn.  Now I know it's better to write good songs instead of bad songs.  Who would have guessed.  Cubs won the world series.  Good for them.  Gotta do somethin'.  The point is what else and crap.  Random weird fake websites keep giving me hits on theuppers.bandcamp.com.  Looks like I'm on my way up!  First you get the fake websites, them you get the power, then you get the women.  That's how that goes, right?  Was watching some George W. Bush on Youtube with my Mom.  If I can look back ten years on Bush and laugh, maybe I can look back on Trump in ten years and laugh if he wins.  Probably not.  W. Bush was just a clown.  One in a million, W. was.
    Now he's into Arts & Crafts.  That sounds about right.  Also, I don't get Arts & Crafts.  Arts and Crafts are polar opposites.  Art is art.  Crafts are crafts.  Need I say more?  Hopefully not.  I got no better way of explaining it.  Arts are art.  Crafts are still crafts.  They're different!  Please believe me.  Crafts, that's like blue collar jobs.  Arts, that's just for weirdos who think they're great at creativity.  I wanna say I used to think blue/white collar jobs were blue/white color jobs.  Not 100% sure I thought that, but it seems like the kind of thing people would think as a children.  
    Great.  This entry so far is fine.  Not outstanding by any means.  But fine.  We'll see if I can keep this up.  What happened to W. Bush that the rest of his family is fine and he's more or less retarded.  Was it the drugs he did as a child?  Was it being born again?  Was it being the commissioner of the Texas Rangers?  Some combination of those things?  Also, who the Hell gave George W Bush the idea that he could be president.  He strikes me as the guy who wouldn't have thought of it by himself.  He must have had a lot of people encouraging him.  Probably people who didn't really know his stupidity, they just knew he was a Bush.  Oh well, live and learn.
    Yeesh.  Fifth paragraph.  That's how We Do.  I don't know.  The Night Times still has Hillary at like 87% of winning.  Boy that would be great.  Nate Silver has it at 2/3rds, though.  I guess I can live with that.  I have no choice.  I don't plan on committing suicide soon, even if that number drops.  So I guess I can live with most anything.  Whew.  Living.  That's always good news.  That's how I feel.  The point is what else.  I don't know.  Still gotta make up Comedy Class Online Post.  Teacher really shamed me into doing it.  Well, shamed me into potentially doing it.  I will most likely have did it.  That's how that goes for some reason.
    Alright.  Gettin' into the real meat and potatoes of the entry.  I like meat and potatoes.  I don't care who knows it!  Shit, gotta write Abbott and Costello riff, too.  And e-mail teacher to see if one page is long enough.  One page on Whose on First is a lot.  I feel it would be justified to lessen the length requirements if that's the route I'm taking.  Anyway.  The original riff I did here on Whose on First was okay, but my favorite was a few entries later, the part about how confusing people's names might have been inspired by people confusing Abbott and Costello's names.  I love crackin' codes.  Even if it's bullshit.  Makes me feel warm and toasty inside.
    I don't have to say they definitely did it because of that.  I can just make it an aside, like, they didn't do it on purpose, but I'm sure makin' a riff about it!  Whatta genius.  Anyway, crap and crap.  Abbott and Costello-- when our country collectively realized that fat people and skinny people can get along.  Before then, fat and skinny stayed mostly to their own sides.  Whose on First is a heartwarming tale of human compassion and generous spirit.  That's how I feel.  What's generous spirit.  I don't know.  That's how that goes.  The point is, after two and a half years back in school, I'm finally doing an assignment worthwhile.  About time.
    Abbott time.  Costello.  Anyway.  Eighth paragraph.  That's okay.  The point is what the Hell am I gonna eat for dinner tonight.  Only ordering for one-- me.  Can't get Chinese food, had that recently.  Can't get some other stuff, had that recently.  We'll see how this situation develops.  Anyway, crap and crap.  There was a minute a few days ago I thought I had a kidney stone.  Then the pain went away.  Whatta relief.  About a week before that, I had pizza, put some crushed red pepper on it.  Then went to the bathroom.  Then my dick stung for a few hours.  From the crushed red pepper that was still on my hand.  These are two separate occasions.
    Anyway.  That doesn't sound like it would happen.  But it did.  I don't remember all the details.  I think Crushed Red Pepper being transferred to your dick alone wouldn't have that effect.  It's possible some got in my pee hole, though.  Pee hole, or as I like to call it, The Splash Zone.  I called it that once and I'm runnin' with it.  Pot committed at this point.  Ninth paragraph.  Movin' right along.  I can have Tex-Mex for dinner.  Haven't had that in a while.  Whose gonna stop me, you?  Get real and whatnot.  Let's see, what else.  I could live with 15 paragraphs this entry.  That's still more paragraphs that the majority of people write in entries.
    Great.  I don't know.  Maybe it's called Arts & Crafts because they make art work out of macaroni.  I feel like that happens in entry level Arts & Crafts classes in elementary schooling.  Probably.  Havin' an art is like havin' a craft, man!  Get off my website.  What else.  Pretty sure that's what hippies did.  Made macaroni art.  That was their main thing, right?  Great, what else.  Who knows.  Instead of putting a flower in a gun, they put a piece of pasta.  That would get everyone laughing together and both sides forget what they were fighting about and they throw a big party and everyone's invited.
    What happened.  Where am I.  I watched all of Caddyshack a couple of days ago.  I think I'd seen bits and pieces before.  It's alright.  I went in thinking I wouldn't really like it.  It's fine.  Some great performers.  Especially the guy who played the gopher.  I wanna say Andy Serkis?  Probably.  You're way off-- Andy Serkis played the entire golf course.  Wow!  I knew he was good, but damn!  I really believed they were outside on a golf course, or at least a replica of one.  He should have gotten an Oscar for that.  Probably.  What else.  I don't know.
    12th paragraph.  Gettin' there.  I feel like George W. Bush's presidency should have been a dark comedy with Peter Sellers playing Bush.  Seems like they're about the same thing.  Watching Bush fumble and much around, I pictured that.  What else is going on.  And who plays president of the 1980's, Ronald Reagan?!  Oh, Doc.  When will he ever learn.  Doin' good in poker.  Approaching sustainable level, possibly.  That would be a hoot.  Stuff to do other than lie in bed contemplating where I went wrong.  Now I get to play poker and make mistakes and contemplate why I went wrong.  Big difference.
    Alright!  Goin' for the 20, again.  20 paragraphs.  I can do it, just watch.  And then I can have Tacos.  Does anyone remember Tacos?  Robert Plant used to say that at concerts, I believe.  Does anyone remember laughter.  Yeah, we never forgot it.  It comes up relatively often in our lives!  Well, easy for me to say.  I'm trying to conjure up comedy pretty regularly.  I guess other people don't.  Oh well, sucks to be them.  Comedy is a craft.  It sure ain't art.  Nobody wants to look at comedy.  They damn well sure can admire the craft.  Like this entry.  Damn, this guy is a C- at comedy!  Whatta impressive!  That's how I roll and whatnot.
    Great.  I'm just waiting for the other foot to drop and start hemorrhaging chips in poker.  Is it other foot to drop or other shoe to drop.  I'm gonna consult the internet because the internet is a pretty smart guy.  It's other shoe to drop.  Oh well, live and learn.  Fourteenth paragraph.  Once you're in the teens, you start smellin' sweet completion.  Imagine the tacos that are in your near future.  Maybe a K-Said-E-Ya?  Who can say for sure.  I didn't spell it right because I don't know how.  That'll learn you, that'll learn all of 'em.  Also, I really said it for effect.  Now you know how to pronounce things the way G-d intended.
    Huh?  Wha?  That counts as a paragraph?  Where is justice?  Last I saw her, working for Nickelodeon.  Do you go onto a sex offender list when you're over 21 and watching Nickelodeon?  One would imagine hopefully.  Anyway, crap and crap.  She was in a movie I liked.  I don't have all the details.  I have a lot of details.  It was called Fun Size.  It takes place on Halloween.  It's a family movie with a decent amount of laughs.  I saw it on my television set.  It has the kid from Bad Grandpa.  I just said I didn't have the details because I wanted to look cool.  Hey, crazysheet doesn't have time for details!  My hero!
    That's how that goes.  I got to move to a new table in poker.  I built the stack from 80 cents to 2.51 dollars.  I don't wanna have all that at risk.  Go to another table, start at 80 cents again.  On the other hand, who cares.  What else is going on.  Technically, I built it up from 1.60.  I had lost an 80 cents then rebought.  I think I made my point though.  Now I'm down to 2.33.  Now I need to stay at this table.  I'll show them for winning moderate hands.  That's a good approach when you're playing poker.  The I'll Show Them! approach.  Definitely a good mindset to be in.
    What else.  Alright, now table.  I can go bust with this 80 cents and be where I was when this nonsense started.  Seventeenth paragraph.  Lately I start feelin' sentimental approaching 20.  It's like I don't want this fun to end.  All the laughs induced.  Al the memories made.  All the time wasted productively.  Brings a tear to my tear duct.  The one around my eyes.  I feel bad for Kevin Bacon in Hollow Man.  He can't close his eyes.  The eyelids are see through.  That's gotta be a trip.  I guess he could put electrical tape over his eyes.  But then everyone can see him.  It's a real trade off when it comes to putting electrical tape over your eyes and whatnot.
    Yeesh.  Back to under a dollar at the table.  Makes me play more conservatively.  Which is usually the best route to take at poker.  Being conservative in life and politics?  You're a sucker.  In poker?  You're a quality player.  Up to 1.20!  Alright, thinks keep comin' up Crazysheet.  Eighteenth paragraph.  I feel a little guilty for using shorter paragraphs lately.  I don't know why.  It means absolutely nothing.  Also, why are shoes dropping.  And why are we waiting for them.  A lot of holes in that saying.  Not impressed.  With the guy.  Who thought of it.  Or the people.  Who.  Use it.  Jeez.
    Anyway, what that what.  Thinkin' about stretching it to 21-23 paragraphs.  That would be a hoot and a half.  Stupid to get ahead of myself, though.  That's another of my favorite stupid jokes.  I wish I could get ahead of myself, so I could turn around and be like, "Hey!" You're coming up with that bullshit, you know something is either going very great or terribly wrong in your life.  The line between genius and retard is a thin one.  No it isn't I've seen the bell curve for intelligence, there's a lotta space in-between.  How dare you.  And How Dare You. Also, How Dare You.
    Ugh.  Almost at 7 dollars in poker.  I called 7-8 dollars almost sustainable territory.  Not quite, but gettin' there.  Now I'm thinkin, 11 or 12.  Then I'm really in business.  And I have crap to do.  Instead of doing other crap.  Life is all about the better between two craps.  Anyway.  Don't wanna count my eggs before they've been... how does that work again?  Yeesh.  This is the 20th paragraph.  I'm definitely gonna go for more than this.  I'm on fire and whatnot!  You know, talking about crap.  I don't mean talking crap, I mean literally talking about crap.  It's an interesting subject.  And Sheet is just a bastardized spelling of shit.  So it's pretty relevant, that's all I'm saying.
    Ugh.  What else and crap.  Every day Poker has 1 10 cent tourney.  I could play that and be sustainable.  But it's only once a day.  If they were offering that day around... still wouldn't do it, it takes hours to get to the money and even more to get to the final table.  A ten cent sit n go, though, that would be money.  Ten cent sit'n'gos are so money they don't even know it.  Jeez.  Bullcrap and shit.  What else.  Do people get their eyelids removed.  Is that a thing.  Seems like some morons would be into that.  Made a post on Facebook last night fishin' for likes.  Congratulations Cubs, I Hear You Did Pretty Good At Baseball Today.  Confident I'd get one or two likes.  And I Did!  Life Mission Accomplished.
    So what paragraph is this, 21?  22.  Okay.  Wonderful.  The longer I can delay eating Tacos the more pleasurable it will be.  That's why Taco Bell invented Fourthmeal.  For strategy.  Anyway, crap and crap.  Also, the longer I can sustain at poker, the more Points I get.  After a week of hardcore playing, I get roughly enough points to enter in the 10 cent tourney with those points I accumulated.  Ten cents in a week.  That's not too bad.  That's why Taco Bell invented Fourthmeal.  Huh?  Wha?  Why?  For fun and stuff.  That's not fun.  You're not fun!  That'll learn you and whatnot.  Gotta use some strategy getting Magic Chef.  There's a minimum of dollars you have to order, and ideally, I would be under that minimum.  Gotta really look at my choices when ordering more than I want to.
    Whatever.  What else.  I'm pretty sure I had a dream last night or the night before of a sequel to Encino Man where he's in college and is just a regular person.  He's had a few more years to adjust and now he's just a guy.  Sounds like a good movie.  Triumph of the human spirit.  What's the conflict, though?  I don't know, you figure it out.  Anyway.  Definitely gotta make that Comedy Class Posting tonight.  I'm callin' it, I'll do it.  Just give me some time to get in the zone.  Alright.  I hear the elation of 25 paragraphs calling me.  After this crap, only two more to go.  Seems about right.  Let's go for it and whatnot.
    Alright, penultimate.  Who thought of the word penultimate, right, have you heard about this.  We don't need that to be a word.  Some guy just thought of it, and thought, people are gonna like this.  And another thing, what's the deal with Whose On First?  Who cares.  There's more important issues than baseball, my friends.  Yeesh.  What else and crap.  Abbott getting increasingly angry as the bit goes on. NO YOU FUCKING MORON, HE'S ON SECOND.  I'LL KILL YOU!  That's one way to go one would imagine.  Whatta do after this.  Not get dinner for an hour or two.  Lie in bed.  Think about where I went wrong with my life.  That sort of crap.
    25!  Whatta achievement.  And you all doubted me.  What else is going on.  Gotta clean up my room.  That would impress my parents.  Also, the stipulation on getting my a Smart T.V. for Birthday/Chanukah/Christmas was that I clean up my room.  One things for sure, I need more T.V. in my life.  That's just the motivation I need!  Anyway, what else and crap.  Crap, my birthday is in five and a half weeks.  Then I'm 28.  28 year olds shouldn't be doin' this crap.  They should have jobs and families and probably not living with their parents.  Where does my life get off, being so crap.  I entertain myself, though.  That's important.  Probably.  One would imagine.  One would also imagine a bonus 26th paragraph!!!
    Sorry if you imagined it.  Now you get to see it unimagined.  Your imagination probably coulda done a better job with this paragraph than I will.  The point is What Else.  Why did I start this paragraph.  Pot committed now, though.  Anyway.  Eh, just lost with 3 of a kind to a flush.  Back to where I started the day.  That's life I suppose.  Ups and lows.  Highs and downs.  End up in the middle mediums.  I made the right call, though, I'm not bothered with that.  Over Five Dollars is still pretty good.  If I had only ended this entry last paragraph.  The point is I'll Show Them!  I'm Stayin' At This Table Until That Wrong Has Been Righted!  Or leave when I'm done here.  That's the way to go.  But now I have to write another paragraph.
    27!  Make the poker losings worth their while.  Ha, he lost with 2 pair to a set.  I guess I don't need to show him, he's been shown.  Alright!  Just threw away a quarter.  Because for fun.  I like calling on the river and imagining I have the best hand.  That's how that goes.  It's reasonable I might have split the pot.  The point is Let's Get Some Money In The Middle And Gamble!  That's the best way to I'll Show Them.  4.41?  Crap, I thought I was closer to 5 dollars.  Whata bullcrap.  Oh well, live and learn.  It's hard to multitask.  Down to four dollars.  That's sustainable for a few days.  Yeesh.  I'm playing alright, I think.  Except for a few hands.  The big pots I lost, though, I feel alright with.
    28!  I'll justify my not wanting to give up in poker by writing more bullshit here.  That's life I guess.  Four dollars is that in between, it's not large enough to be sustainable but its not small enough to be resigned to losing it.  That's a good point.  If I end this session at four dollars, still got a little bit of cushion.  What the Hell has this entry devolved into.  Hey, we're going for 30 paragraphs.  That's the trade off we've got to make.  I start tomorrow with 4 dollars on poker, I'm okay with that.  Stop talking about poker.  But that's what my life is these last days!  For what, three or four months.  Years, if you count the play money at Pokerstars.  Decades, if you don't count a lot of years.
    Now the real penultimate.  Not like that last penultimate.  Turned out to be a fallacy.  What's today, Thursday?  I can deal with that.  Thursday.  That's okay.  At least I'm not Gordon Vayo.  That guy's gotta feel like this.  There were two or three or four times if he called the river with the best hand he would have won-- the entire tournament.  He's gotta feel like shit.  It's tough, though.  I feel for him.  I can eat dinner tonight.  That's roughly eight to ten dollars.  That meal is worth considerably more than I lost in Poker.  The good news is I can afford to eat?  That doesn't sound right.  It's good news for a lot of people around the world.  Here, it's more or less a given.  Even McDonalds workers can eat.  They just slide a few double cheeseburgers down their pants, no one would be the wiser.
    Great, this is it.  What fun was had and whatnot.  I don't remember.  I want to say a small amount every here or there.  I can lie in bed and think about where I went right in my life.  That would be mixing it up a bit.  Anyway, crap and crap.  I don't know.  What an entry.  What a spectacle.  Whatta life experience.  Don't get much better than this.  Only a dollar under what I started the day with.  That's really not too bad.  An entry today instead of nothing.  That ain't too bad.  What else.  Crap and crap.  Have I said anything worth reading in a while?  Probaby not.  That's why this is over.  Or we write a 31st paragraph!
    Knock it out of the park.  I'm due, I've been in Crap Mode for a while.  What's goin on In Life.  Moderate amount of Poker Money.  T.V. still exists.  Smoking cigarettes hardcore.  Drinking alcohol like a pimp.  I have a bed.  Enough cash for food.  Things are really going well I have to say.  Good enough to finish this entry hardcore.  Let's see, words, words.  Thursday Night!  The Office is still on, right?  Lots of laughs on that program.  The good news is what else.  Jesus Christ, how many hours have I spent here.  I gotta do something else, mix things up a bit.  I'll see ya later.

-7:52 P.M.  

Wednesday, November 2, 2016

Honorary Assistant To The Bus Driver

    I've put in the hours.  My resume is flawless (Because there's nothing on it).  It's only a matter of time I'm promoted.  Promoted from bus passenger to the title.  Whatnot.  I saw something pretty great walking home.  Two very small kids, maybe four years old, playing with a soccer ball.  One kicks it way off in the other direction.  The second one flips him the middle finger!  That's good enough.  Then, after two seconds, decides to double down!  Double middle finger!  Possibly the cutest thing one could ever see.  I know kids these days are living in a digital world, but this is ridiculous!  Because of puns.  Puns are great and whatnot.
    Good news is that's a paragraph.  Gotta write a new poem for Monday.  Anything I want.  I gotta make up some words.  I've been waiting all semester to make up some words.  Too much words, though, that's no good.  Gotta find a happy medium of making up words.  Anyway.  In the beginning of time, people didn't count on their fingers to solve very simple math problems.  That came later.  In the beginning, people were just trying to figure out how many fingers they had.  Alright, I guess.  No reason not to. The point is what else.  Got a Hillary sticker!  And I didn't even have to make an additional donation.  I knew if I waited long enough I'd get a free sticker.  Check And Mate. 
    Also, it is the kind of sticker on a car.  I was imagining a 2x2 inch sticker.  Boy is my face red.  Hopefully not.  Is that term anti-Native American.  Gotta be anti-something.  Not sure why, though.  You can't argue with a feeling.  These people are Red.  Africans are black.  Chinese people are yellow.  Is it possible that white people are colorblind?  If they were colorblind that would mean everyone's equal.  Yeah... no.  Get off my back about it.  I'll teach you to question the logic of my crap!  I don't know how yet.  I'll come up with some way to teach you.  Give me some time, I'm busy these days.
    Whatever.  Fourth paragraph, though.  That's alright.  I'm up to over 5 dollars in poker!  Almost sustainable territory.  The good news is who cares.  I haven't watched all of the final table yet from yesterday.  I saw some heads up then went to sleep.  Nobody tell me what happens.  I implore you.  The point is its the weekend.  We're gonna party like it's 2014.  I feel like nobody is gonna remember 2009-2016 at all.  I know we used to have a white president... I know we have a white president now... drawin' a blank.  Political humor!  I think it's very possible Obama goes down in history as A President.  I'd put money on it but all my five dollars is all tied up in poker.
    Alright, I guess.  Is this election a referendum of Obama being black?  Let's talk about.  Get to the real roots of these issues.  I got the gumption to go there!  That would be my tag line if I had a Cable News hour T.V. show.  Some real great alliteration and whatnot.  The point is, the more people who get Hillary Stickers, the greater chance she has to win.  Stickers=Votes in this, our country, country of ours.  If an African American Woman developed a dance called The Hillary would that have motivated more African Americans to vote?  One can only speculate on account of it not happening.  Possibly racist humor!  We're covering all the bases here.  Fair and balanced.  One comment anti-racism, one comment pro-racism.  Gotta Keep It Balanced, that's my secondary cable news T.V. show catchphrase.  The dance comment is only racist if you say its racist.  I say it's not racist.  Alright, then.  Whew dodged that bullet.
    I have no idea what I'm talking about.  I do know there have been some number of paragraphs.  Who can say for sure.  How can I be racist, some of my best months backgrounds are black!  That settles that, once and for all.  Now let's move on.  I had a slice of 'Za in class today.  There was some sort of meeting in the room beforehand where they had pizza.  Didn't finish it.  Left it there.  Ha.  I called pizza 'za.  What will I think of next.  The point is there's only roughly how many skittles are racists in a pizza pie probability it being poisoned.  Right, right...  What else and crap.
    Wonderful.  Parents gettin' upset if some parent is giving out Skittles for Halloween.  Don't eat those, one might be a terrorist!  Yeah.  If you eat a terrorist skittle, only one route of action to take.  Call on American Hero Osmosis Jones.  He'll sort that situation out, no problem.  Skittles must have had to put out a press release, None of our skittles are terrorists.  Some people need extra clarification.  Anyway.  I think Hilary from Fresh Prince of Bel-Air is likable enough.  I wonder how that'll play in this election.  Anyway.  I had too many chips.  Donated sixty cents.  I feel a lot better now that that's been done.
    Alright!  Great.  Eighth paragraph.  Whatta grind.  Weekend!  So much free time to contemplate the horror of Trump possibly winning.  I have a feeling that'll take up a bunch of time.  I could contemplate the joy of Hillary probably winning.  That should take up a fraction of the horror time, but still a decent amount of time one would imagine.  I keep getting e-mails personally from Hillary.  You'd think she'd never want to send another e-mail again.  Politics!  Who would have guessed that would be such a huge scandal.  We don't know what these e-mails might have said, but let's imagine they're some really terrible things in there!
    I guess at this point we know what some e-mails said.  And there's a few shitty thing to say, but nothing real bad.  Whatta bullshit, is the point, that's how I feel, and whatnot.  You can't even send messages by carrier pigeons anymore.  Someone is gonna capture those pigeons and get them to talk... the hard way.  We're talking pigeon torture, folks.  That's what our country has come to.  Yeesh.  Anyway.  I had to write a poem about nature yesterday.  Pigeons Are Nature.  The main nature I wrote about in the poem is the dumpster right outside my house.  Dumpsters are outside.  Outside Is Nature.  I did actually go outside for ten minutes, though.  I did my job.  Dumpster is too strong a word.  It's a place where you throw in bags of garbage and they collect it every week.  Yup, that's a dumpster.  Yeah, but a private dumpster.  I'm tellin' ya, it's the best dumpster.   
    Don't know the point of that.  Tenth paragraph.  I'm real happy with the sound my phone makes when I'm checking my e-mail and there's a new one.  Is there a way I could schedule my phone to make that sound every eight minutes?  Why should I have to wait to get an e-mail to experience such joy.  Doesn't seem right at all.  I guess I could start sending myself e-mails.  That's one way to go.  Kinda cheating, though.  Anyway.  That's how Hillary should have been trained.  Write e-mails to herself.  Before you can write inflammatory e-mails to others, you must first write inflammatory emails to yourself. 
    Whatta clunker.  That's life I guess.  At first I wrote noninflammatory.  Getta load of me!  So much fun we have here and whatnot.  Uh-oh.  I did mean non-inflammatory.  Damnit I should have trusted my instincts.  Now this entry is ruined, the website's ruined, my life is ruined.  Fuck!  You can go back and change it.  Yeah, but that's kind of cheating, right?  Also, then we wouldn't have this much fun that we're having right now.  So much fun.  Donald Trump winning would ruin our collective lives.  Not 100%, but to some percent.  These are the stakes.  Also, how stupid are you fuckin' people who support him.  C'mon.  Why.  Anyway.  You call a Trump supporter stupid, it doesn't register with him.  He just double barrels middle fingers at you.  Because they're like four year olds-- crappy four year olds, at that.
    At least legitimate four year olds are cute.  What do you got goin' for you.  Twelfth paragraph.  Movin' right along.  I envy people who only care tangentially about the election.  Envy them hardcore.  Anyway, crap and crap.  I've gone off on a tangent.  Math!  I suppose.  If you're counting your fingers to figure out how many fingers you have, you just might be a Trump supporter.  Hoots and hollers.  Yeesh.  Jay-Z holding a concert for Clinton on Election Eve I believe?  That's good.  People like Jay-Z.  I like him, too.  Rhymes with Crazy.  That's my name!  It's good to be able to relate to people on a human level.
    Whatever.  I heard Bill Clinton requested Jay-Z because he enjoys other people who cheat on their wives.  Is that confirmed, that Jay-Z did that?  Not sure.  Either way, Politics!  What's Tim Kaine up to right now.  One can only imagine.  He better join Jay-Z on stage and start harmonica-ing, that's all I can say.  My mother's father played the harmonica.  It was kind of his thing.  At least that's what I've been told.  He died when I was eight, and the last time I saw him in the nursing home I was too busy playing Game Gear to interact with him.  I think at that point he didn't know who I was 100% anyway.  So it's all fair.  Anyway, crap and crap.  Entry and whatnot.
    Fourteeeenth paragraph.  We're getting there, oh boy.  What if everyone held a concert on Election Eve.  I'm talking about everyone.  That would be pretty great.  The point is I have a lot more paragraphs to get back into my groove.  I really oughtta start setting my alarm clock when I don't have to wake up the next day.  Gettin' up, goin' back to sleep.  Pretty much the highlight of my pathetic life.  Gettin' some more ZZZ's.  Not counting eating some 'Zas.  That is co-best thing with gettin' some 'ZZZ's.  And the third best thing is Jay Z's concert on Election Eve.
    Because of letters and crap?  Give it some time, you'll figure it out.  Odds are I'll stick have Poker Money by the end of the weekend?  I'd put it at around 50/50.  But that 50 where I still do, a large percent of that is I'm more money than I am now.  Fascinating.  Poem due on Saturday 8:00 P.M.  Assumin' that's Eastern Standard Time.  I was imagining it being due Monday At Class.  Forgot I need to give the class time to read it.  Oh well, today's Wednesday.  I have roughly more than three days.  Make up 3-6 words.  That's not overdoing it.  There was a poem today with the word Maine in the title, and I made a comment that there seemed to be ro relevance of it in the text.  Something about Dirty Brown Grass in the poem, so I was like, I don't know if that's indigenous to Maine... got a huge laugh.  I was being sincere.  Maybe it is.  Now that poet thinks I'm an asshole.  Oh well, live and learn.
    The word indigenous is funny.  That's my takeaway from that experience.  Sixteenth paragraph.  The more paragraphs I write, the amount of times I mention the paragraph goes up exponentially.  All the more reason to keep a running tab.  That's how I feel.  Anyway.  Got string cheese today from Super Market.  I've never had string cheese before.  As a kid, didn't like cheese.  As an adult, adults don't eat string cheese.  I'm mixin things up.  Gotta live life to the fullest.  Variety is the spice of life.  That's one of my favorite sayings.  I don't know why.  Spice of Life.  It sounds funny.  And the meaning is funny.  Variety Being The Spice Of Life has a lot of good things going for it, that's just how I feel.
    Wonderful.  Still gotta do the make-up of posting online for Comedy Class.  I'll do it tonight.  I guess.  I could probably set up my phone to make the e-mail sound for everything.  Phone calls, texts, everything.  I'll do it tonight.  I guess.  One column of string cheese is only 60 calories.  That's not so bad, not so bad at all.  My internet just crapped out.  Finally.  Can write some entry in peace.  The good news is what else. ... ... What else is going on.  Imagining people are reading this somewhat relies on being active on the internet at the time of writing it.  You know, for Internet Comfort.  This is no good.  Alright, lets wait it out.  It'll come back.  Just gotta have faith.  Faith hardcore.
    Jeez.  Eighteenth paragraph.  Internet is back.  After restarting Computer.  Sittin' back on my poker table.  Gmail is... working?  I don't get too many e-mails so it's hard to tell.  Alright, let's get back on track.  It did give me a good opportunity to take the Comedy Class Book out of my book bag and put it on my table.  I need that to write my post on line.  Gettin' the book, that's half the battle.  So I consider this internet disconnection to be a Win in my book.  Alright, crap and crap.  Entry windin' down, either way.  Let's see, words, words.  Anyway.  I've been eating dinner later the last week or so.  You know, for strategy?  That way I won't have to eat again several hours after dinner.
    I'm real great at strategy.  That's how I feel.  It's November.  You can't argue with a feeling.  Eh.  Crap and crap.  Watch the rest of poker tonight.  Probably some other things to.  Movies.  Whatever'll keep my mind off crap.  It's Wednesday.  I got that going for me.  Still a paragraph and a half to go.  What did I do to deserve such a fate.  Probably jerking off and crap.  Just got my food delivered.  I wanna eat now.  Can't.  I'm pot committed to eating at ten or eleven.  Can't go back now.  You don't change meals in midstream.  That's a tenet I hold dearly.  Crap, I wrote My Dear Friends in the song, these people aren't even my friends, let alone dear friends.  Gotta imagine that upset most of my class.
    Alright.  Beyond making up four words, not sure what I'm gonna do for my next poem.  We'll see how that plays out in the coming days.  The point is this is the last paragraph.  I ate a few fries and an onion ring.  That's the kind of crap this guy eats for dinner.  Every week or so, at least.  Gettin' Bison Burger instead of Hamburger the last few months.  I heard Larry David order a bison burger in one of the episodes of the last season.  I tried it based on that bullshit.  Liked it!  No goin' back now, I'm pot committed to bison burgers.  Also, it brings joy to my heart that I'm eating an animal that was almost extinct as recently as a century ago.
    Feels like one more paragraph is called for.  Who can say for sure why.  Stupid baseball tonight.  I wanna root for the underdog.  They're all tied up.  Now I have to root for a tie.  It's an underdog in terms of things happening because it won't happen.  That's how I feel.  Got a couple of movies cued up on DVR.  That's better than nothin'.  Kinda like how in poker I'm rooting for someone to knock over everyone's chips.  Cubs/Indians is along those lines.  Just donated 8 cents in poker.  Stupid.  On the other hand, just bit a really good nail.  So I guess that evens it out.  I'll see ya later.

-6:50 P.M. 
   

Tuesday, November 1, 2016

It Burns My Eyes!!!

    That's how that goes.  Ouch.  I'm not kiddin'.  The whiteness is such a shock to the system.  You know, like watching Friends?  Nailed it!  The point is in a week something terrible might happen.  I wish I could do more.  You know, talking to people, gettin' out the vote, donatin' money.  One out of three ain't bad.  I'm definitely qualified to talk to people.  For example, Hello!  Alright, that fills my quota of talking to people.  Helloillary.  Nailed it!  Nope.  If Hillary thinks people hate her now, imagine what would happen if she loses to Trump.  Pretty much literally everybody would hate her.  Once an enabler, always an enabler.  Prove me wrong!  I'm scared, that's all that is.  It's okay to be scared.  Fear knocked on the door.  Faith answered.  Fear did a piledrive on Faith and Fear reigned supreme.
    Anyway, what else and crap.  I hate getting piledriven.  You get pile drived in your life, even once, and you're not a professional wrestler, something went very wrong.  That's how I feel.  Anyway.  Poker is down to Three People.  The guy I like is still in it.  I like him because he's from the internet.  I know that thing!  Gotta write a comment on Internet for my Comedy Class.  It was due last night, but during class he really guilted me into doing it.  Said we would get some credit.  The first thing he did in class was talk about how some people didn't do it and he hated us especially me because I let him down.  Then later he said we could do it and get some credit.  Gotta save face. 
    If I don't do it now, I look like a real asshole.  As opposed to a somewhat asshole who might have had a good reason not to do it possibly.  Oh well, live and learn.  We have a 7-10 page final paper based on the reading, but we can do anything we want.  As long as it references the reading in someway.  I had an idea that I'll ask him if I can do, where I just write a short stream-of-consciousness story that's heavily influenced by the reading-- perhaps even a sequel or prequel to the reading itself!  I've got a decent feeling he might say yes.  Then I get to write a story!  That'll show them, that'll show all of them.
    Anyway.  What's So Funny II: Still Not Funny.  Put that in the maybe pile for sure.  Or I could just write the book backwards, letter to letter, and call it Palindrome.  That'll get people thinking.  Thinking I'm crap.  And retarded.  And most likely mentally ill.  Three out of three ain't bad!  That's how I feel.  Too many 1's in the date today.  And ten days from now is even more!  I can't handle all this excitement.  Anyway, crap and crap.  Sorry Hillary, I would donate another ten dollars, but my parents won't let me.  They have me donating-to-politicians-grounded.  What could I have done wrong to deserve that.  Oh, I know!  Swallowing mouth wash.  Gotta punish me for that or else I'll never learn.
    Why shouldn't my esophagus be as minty fresh as my mouth.  Doesn't seem fair.  Fifth paragraph.  Pot committed to the new format now.  Oh well, live and... learn?  That doesn't sound right.  Are you sure?  Anyway, crap and crap.  Got a little bit of money on poker again.  Will this be the time I build it into something sustainable?  My guess?  Nope.  I need to find someone to back me in poker.  Do you guys know anyone who backs adequate people in poker?  I can make them tens of dollars potentially.  Anyway, what else and crap.  There's Baseball going on tonight.  I'm rootin' for Some Good Baseball.  You know, bunts and stuff?  Bunts, you know, like what my coaches asked me to do with no one on base?  Even with my running being less than impressive?  They just wanted me to make contact and be proud of myself?
    Probably.  Look, I managed to get my baseball bat into the strikezone!  Let's go get a Big Mac with only the bread and the meat to celebrate.  That's how I roll.  Of course, now they have double cheeseburgers.  Don't get the bread in the middle, though.  That's life I guess.  I don't get the McDonalds promotions where they were Monopoly properties on certain items and there's prizes and first prize is a million dollars.  Isn't that essentially gambling?  And kids eat it?  Kids can't gamble?  Now they're gonna not let them do it anymore on account of my expert analysis?  And McDonalds won't let me in their restaurants anymore?
    That's life I guess.  Why would you have a clown that sells hamburgers.  I don't trust clowns.  Who knows what they've got up their sleeve.  Hopefully more hamburgers.  Huh?  Wha?  What's going on and crap.  Seventh paragraph.  One more day in my work week.  We got Thursday off again.  I don't know how much riffing I can do on Whose On First.  I'm gonna ask Professor, if we're doing that, can it be shorter.  It's hard to do two pages solely on Whose On First.  Real hard.  Hard hardcore.  I don't like them showing the WSOP Final Table live, on a thirty minute delay.  I don't want people knowing my hands thirty minutes in the future.  It changes the entire game.  I came to watch regular poker.  Now I'm seeing poker with this mixed in.  No good!  I hate it!
    That's how I feel.  Pretty sure I have a poem due tomorrow.  Great.  I guess.  What else.  I folded a small two pair on the river a few hands ago.  Who knows if that was great or not.  Not I.  And I don't even get to find out in half an hour.  Anyway.  Eighth paragraph.  Wonderful.  Seemed like he had a higher two pair.  Or maybe a straight!  Or a set!  The point is there's a lot of hands he could have had mathematically...!  What else is bullshit.  I feel the same way about Hillary Clinton winning the presidency as the characters of Armageddon did about Bruce Willis blowing up the asteroid with him on it in time to prevent further damage to the Earth.
    That'll do it.  He's Bruce Willis, he doesn't know how to fail.  That sort of thing.  Anyway, crap and crap.  I don't know.  This format is fine, I guess.  Could have been worse.  My eyes have adjusted adequately.  That's how that goes.  Ninth paragraph.  That's alright.  I don't feel the same stamina I've had in the past weeks, though.  I don't know.  Maybe I do.  Stamina is a fickle, fickle thing.  I know Hillary Clinton has stamina.  I've seen her sit in the same place for eight hours.  I couldn't do that.  I top off at maybe three hours, if I'm on a good day.  What else is crap and crap. I'm up to over 2 dollars in poker.  We get to seven, eight dollars, then we're talkin' sustainable probably. 
    Tenth paragraph!  Alright.  I like how in Chinese Poker four of a kind is called a bomb. In regular poker, it's just called four of a kind.  Let's petition Poker to start calling four of a kind a bomb universally, across all games.  If you're gonna be petitioning for something, that's as good a place as any to start.  Also gotta set up a meeting for Pre-Registration.  Two of the five or six more classes I have to take consistently haven't been showing up on CunyFirst even though I'm sure they're being offered on account of the,  thing... the... I can't explain it.  SStupd things I can't explain, I hate them so much.  Generic isn't the right word.  Baseless isn't the right word.  Generic still isn't the right word.  Entry level classes!  There we go.  Even though not quite entry level.  Relatively entry level.  There we go.
    Good thing we settled that.  It's the real issues and whatnot.  Anyway, let's keep it goin'.  Baseless.  You know, because they're near the base... of classes?  Makes sense to me.  Not enough sense to accept it as a proper description.  We live and learn here, though.  That's what I'm all about.  Livin', that's one.  Learnin, that's co-number one.  I shuold get in the habit of only pokering after dinner.  That's the most important time to Have Poker.  I need to sit up after I eat.  But who cares.  Live life!  Learn!  That's what I'm all about!  Who cares.  Not me.  What else is going on.  Gonna sit out for a round soon so I can pour myself some liquid-- liquid for drinking.  Yeesh this has fallen off the rails.  Pretty sure that's an expression. 
    Yeah.  I just want this to last a week.  Can't I make 2 dollars last a week?  Where Is Justice.  Last I saw him, playing for the Indians.  They must've cut him.  Indians vs. Cubs.  I'm indifferent to Indians and I'm indifferent to Cubs.  Now, if Indians were a reference to the country India, now we're talking.  I like the idea of an American baseball team referring to themselves as citizens of a foreign land.  But we both know that is not the case unfortunately.  So much crap I have to do.  Where does school get off giving me crap to do.  Why, I have to work probably an average of ten minutes a day outside of school for school.  That doesn't seem right.  Doesn't seem right at all.
    Hey, it's the thirteenth paragraph!  Movin' right along, indeed.  I've always been jealous of other countries for putting the day of the month first and the month second.  They have no idea how good they've got it.  Also, I must have mentioned this before, but I'm a huge proponent of using periods instead of slashes when writing the date.  Really classes up the whole process.  Today would be 11.1.16.  Or in other countries, 1.11.16.  Man did they luck out being in a society where that kind of thing is encouraged.  Today at the end of class an elderly lady classmate came up to me and said, Are you happy?  I go, Am I What?  She repeats, Are you happy?  I go, what?  She goes, Are you Rafi?  He left a good response on my blackboard post.
    Well, that's nice it ended that way.  Stupid people asking if I'm happy.  I'm great.  In terms of doing great.  Maybe in other terms, too.  I haven't done the math on it but it's definitely possible.  The point is six paragraphs and change to go.  I can do that with my hands.  That explains that.  No, I'm not Rafi, but I hear he's got his head on straight.  Really knocking some comments on other people's comments out of the park.  Good for him.   I should get Rafi to write a guest Crazysheet.  That's a great idea I thought of in a long-gone previous entry.  Guest entries!  You know, for fun, and crap?  I could live with some guest entries.  Lemme know if you're interested.  Also, whatever.  Who cares.
    Great, what else is going on and crap.  In Larry Sanders, he had guest hosts probably around 40% of the time.  You don't see that anymore.  Whatta shame.  The bus today overran the bus stop, on account of there already being two buses there, and no room for a third.  I huffed and puffed and ran my way over to its final destination.  Right up to the door.  Then it takes off.  I was right there!  Stupid busses.  They think they're so great.  The point is what paragraph is this.  Fifteenth paragraph.  That's it?  Apparently.  Gotta do the blackboard posting today.  Gotta write a poem.  Probably a third thing, odds are in favor of a third thing.     
    What else.  Stupid crap and shit, one would imagine.  Wouldn't it be great if before class tomorrow someone says they liked my song.  That would be aces.  Also, it would almost definitely be a girl.  Only one other guy in class.  A girl liking my song?  I'm over the moon.  Anyway, what else.  Just doubed up again in poker.  That's what I'm talkin' about!  Well, it is now.  See me talkin' about it?  The proof is in the pudding.  Didn't double up my whole stack.  Just what I had at the table.  Still, up to around 3.5 dollars now.  Who woulda thunked it.  Let's get goin' with the entry though.  That's what I'm here for.  Also, why can't we count chickens before they hatch.  The idea that they'll die between you counting them and being born, that can't happen that often.  Most of the times you count your chickens before they're hatched you're gonna be 100% right. 
    Sure I know percentages.  What of it.  Seventeenth paragraphs.  I also know counting, you wanna make something of it?  I don't get how Biff becomes such a great guy at the end of Back II The Future Part I: A New Hope.  I guess gettin' hit in the face really straightened him out.  But he's back to being an asshole in the future in Back II The Future: Part II: Quoth The Raven, One More Time.  Really strange character arc going on there, let's talk about it. What else.  I'm doin' this.  Right?  I forgot for a few minutes I was doing this.  That's how that goes.  I don't wanna commit to saying I have 3.5 dollars.  Even though I do.  Let's just pretend I said 3 dollars.  So I could lose 50 cents without feelin' too bad about it.
    These are the real issues.  What else is going on and crap.  Math runs in the family.  Dad's a math teacher.  Dad's mother was apparently a wiz at calculating shit.  You give her 132+148+38+44 and she figured it out in a second.  Good genes, that's all I'm saying.  Multiplication would have been more impressive.  I don't have all the details!  My gut says she could have done that with multiply instead of add.  But I don't know for sure.  Also, not to brag, but my Mother's father knew negative numbers.  Negative One, Negative Three.  He knew all of them.  Jeez.  The point is crap and crap?  Still have fuckin' stupid Chinese Food left for dinner.  Not a lot.  But I still have some Fried Egg I got a few days ago, make that a sandwich, have some pork fried rice, a few pieces of general Tso's chicken.  That's a hearty dinner.  To be a general and have your name associated with chicken seems like the ultimate insult.  Being a chicken is bad in war and conflict.  That sort of thing.
    The good news is it's some really great chicken.  He should put the implications of the word chicken aside and just be happy he contributed to society.  Just threw away twelve cents.  Fine, I didn't even want it!  I had twelve cents too many for my taste.  Much better off without those twelve cents.  Jeez.  The point is Entry.  Ace Jack is the worst hand in poker.  There, I said it.  Except for Heads Up.  Then it's a monster.  Monster hands are good.  They insight fear in your opponents.  Hey, it's the nineteenth paragraph.  Another entry practically in the books.  And, if I showed it to my Poetry Class?  Solid C- in their books.  Good to have things you're proud of.
    20.  Alright.  Could end up being more, we'll see how it goes.  Crap.  Gotta do a Walking Meditation for poetry.  Go outside and shit.  I'm not gonna do that within an hour.  Then it gets dark out!  I have to do it I guess.  That's life and whatnot.  I can do it sitting on my front porch.  That's outside.  Way more outside than inside.  I guess I could look out my window.  But it'll be dark-- hard to see things.  Eh.  Anyway, crap and crap.  It does give me a chance to breathe air.  I'm pretty sure the air in my room is 50-60% cigarette smoke air.  Clean air makes me nauseous.  Oh well.  That's life I suppose.
    I got a lot more paragraphs in me one would imagine.  At least one.  Pot committed at this point.  I can sit on my porch for fifteen minutes.  That's not so bad.  Anyway.  This'll be the last paragraph.  I can knock those fifteen minutes out right now when I'm done.  It's even still light out and crap.  That's good.  That's one thing I won't have to do anymore.  Hey, I can get away with not doing it!  We ain't writing a poem about it specifically.  Just meant to do it.  Then the poem could be inspired by it.  Or, I could make it up.  Alright!  What else is crap and crap.  One more paragraph after this bullshit.
    Alright.  What else.  Even 22 paragraphs for the entry.  Startin' off a new month-- Hey, get to make a new title for the index page, that you see when your browsing websites and this is the title of the website.  Alright.  What fun.  Or I could sit on my front porch for fifteen minutes.  Sounds almost relaxing.  No reason not to.  Except for me not liking to do stuff.  That's a reason.  Oh well, live and learn.  I've been using a third of a Chipotle menu as a bookmark.  Just felt like that was somethin' worth saying, that's all.  I'll see ya later.

-5:55 P.M.