Monday, October 31, 2016

Happy Hollereen

    That's how that goes.  Wrote a song for my Halloween Poem assignment.  Actually went through with playing it over the internet to the class.  Solid C-!  That's what you get with Michael.  Gonna knock some C-'s out of the park.  The C- is adjusted to the curve of what they might have expected.  Not a C- song in general. I'm not that talented.  The good news is what else.  I had some good lines.  Quoth the raven, one more time/I've returned to my ravening life of crime.  Maybe other people interpret that as terrible.  Me?  I think it's possibly the best thing I've ever done in my entire life.  Anyway.  I'm the laughingstock of my Poetry Class.  We wrote a Telephone poem around the class, each person writes one line based on the last line, then we cover everything up until their line, and pass it around like that.  When Professor read it out loud, he said my line "The sun is crap anyway," and everyone was like Oh, that's Michael!  How dare you. 
    Stupid people associating me with the crap I do, I hate it so much.  I ran home to make a freeroll just in time and I busted in the third hand.  And by running home, I mean I ran for twenty seconds, gave up, and walked briskly.  And by walked briskly, I mean I walked somewhere in-between walking regular and bordering on walking briskly.  The good news is its Halloween for some reason.  Everyone likes Halloween.  You show me a person who doesn't like Halloween, and I show you an Asshole.  I don't really like Halloween.  I remember liking it before.  You know, when I was a child?  Then when I became an adult, figured, I'm pot committed to liking Halloween.  No turning back now.  Stupid pot commission, I hate it so much.
    I want to be the chairman on the Pot Commission.  I don't really like pot.  I remember I used to, as a young adult.  Pot committed again.  What else and crap.  I did qualify my song, It's extra scary, because it's not all that good, so it'll be embarrassing for all of us!  Mission accomplished, friends.  Professor came up to me afterwards, How did you do that spooky thing with your voice?  That's my voice.  My singin' voice.  I humored him though, and when he guessed I adulterated it in some way, I said Yeah.  Which is true.  But not the voices.  It might have been spooky because I had 2-4 different vocal tracks, and they didn't sing in tune with each other, thus creating a spooky voice.
    Let's go with that.  That means all my songs are spooky.  Oh well, live and learn.  I live a spooktacular life.  Seems logical that's how my songs would end up.  The point is I breathed the air in the room and deduced from breathing patterns I had achieved a C-.  Better than a D.  I've gone through playing songs for people live and them being, at best, a D.  C-, that I can live with.  Also had to recite a poem from memory today.  Did that pretty easily.  It's a good poem.  I'm happy with how that went.  A solid B+.  They were showing Back II The Future yesterday.  I can only assume for Halloween.  It gets scarier and scarier each time you watch it throughout your life.  I used to like this as a kid.  I guess I'm pot committed.
    The older you get, the less the plot makes sense.  That's one negative.  What else and crap.  Fifth paragraph and whatnot.  Also, I tricked Professor into giving me the password for the school computers.  I was gonna load it up on that, needed a password, he told me, then went, Oh shit I shouldn't have said that.  Mission accomplished.  Then the Password didn't work and I played it on a classmate's laptop.  But now I know the password.  Whatta sucker, thinking I wanted to share a C- song with the class.  It was all a grand scheme to get that password.  Pretty surprised he didn't pick up on that.  WhouWho would have guessed it would happen again/Happy Halloween my dear friends.  I blew it with the dear though.  I imagine the class collectively going, DeDear friends?  We hardly know you.  Whatta loser.
    Probably.  Even they could understand the words.  If they understand the words to a song, that gets you to a C- automatically.  You think these punk clothes are a show?  This is a way of life!  And all I get is, oohooh, you're spooky.  (Change characters--) I like it spooky.  It's from a movie I saw once.  You wouldn't understand.  If I'm making a top ten list of my favorite movies, one would imagine Return of the Living Dead is in there.  I liked it as a child.  Pot committed at this point.  It turns out Adulthood is just being pot committed to what you liked/were like as a child.  For me, at least.  Who woulda guessed.
    Not me.  Seventh paragraph.  Last entry of the month!  Oh, what fun we had.  What else and crap.  It's also possible the reason that's adulthood for me is because I haven't grown at all in the past decade.  Figuratively.  Well, literally, too.  That's the kicker.  Crap and crap.  I ujst got an e-mail from Obama and its a Halloween Themed advertisement for Obamacare.  It lists off some spooky illnesses or disabilities, and then says they're all covered.  At first I assumed it was real crap, but re-reading it, it's just a joke.  Lack of vital organs.  Pretty sure no one suffers from that.  Eh.  I liked it better imagining they were spooky things that actually occurred to people.  That woulda been better. 
    I guess you could lack a vital organ.  Lack vital organs, that's a step too far, though.  Thanksgiving coming up.  I think we should all take a page from the President's Playbook and buy some live Turkeys and pardon them.  Seems like the right thing to do.  I'm sick of the limited selection of Vitamin Water Zeros.  You got five times as many Vitamin Waters as Vitamin Water Zeros.  I'm stuck between choosing two or three.  I should have a dozen.  Stupid Gas Station, I hate it so much.  What kind of a moron drinks regular Vitamin Water.  You know, they taste exactly the same, but I'm gonna go with the one with a debilitating quantity of sugar.  What are you, stupid or something?
    Probably.  What else.  Read the What's So Funny book.  It was alright.  I liked the part where I read the entire thing in three hours.  I bracketed three lines on page 43 or so.  Hey, most books don't get any bracketting.  This one did.  It should be happy with what it got.  Fifty Year Old Woman brought in lollipops to class toady.  Good for you.  Other lady was in mouse makeup.  GOod for you.  Now, let's listen to my song.  Good for me.  How did you make your voice sound so spooky?  Your voice is spooky, get off my back!  Where does he get off and whatnot.  One could only imagine if I had my electric guitar to play the music for the poem.  I woulda punked it up all over the place.  Oh well, live and learn.  It's a Utility Rock song, no need to over think it.   
    Feel free to, though.  If that's what you want to spend your free time doing, go ahead and over think it.  I like, "The Birds."  Oh no, birds!  Summed that movie up in three words.  Tenth paragraph.  We doin' it hardcizzore.  I have to eat Chinese Food for two nights in a row.  Doesn't get much scarier than that.  Probably.  Who can say for sure.  Stupid getting home early, now I have to spend an extra five minutes in my house.  Stupid house.  I guess I have to write spooky poems from now on.  Give the people what they want.  Well, not want.  What they supposedly expect.  Gotta give people what they supposedly expect.
    Pot committed to that!  Let's see, anyway.  Whatta do when this is over.  Gotta do somethin'.  Pretty sure I have some sort of Comedy Class assignment.  Gotta write a new poem for Wednesday.  Things are happenin', my dear friends.  Dear friend?  I'm just not ready for that kind of commitment!  Get real, commitments aren't so bad.  Look at all the pot commitments I've already made in just ten paragraphs.  Not even counting the commitment I made when I got Chinese Food last night.  Anyway, crap and crap.  They were showing Meet The Parents yesterday.  I can only assume for Halloween.  Pot-stickers.  There's some stickers I would want.  Or at least I would have used to. 
    Crap and crap.  Baseball is almost over.  Where do those teams get off not being The Mets.  Jeez.  Twelfth paragraph.  Then back to Zero tomorrow.  Live and learn.  I've been doin' a lot of livin' in my life, not so much learnin'.  I don't even know how to spell learnin' correctly.  Whatta do with the rest of my day/life.  I'm leanin' towards changing the format next month.  Try some black font on white background.  Just for fun.  See what happens.  That's what I'm doin' with the rest of my life.  Some people say that death is the rest of your life.  C-'d it.  Crap and crap.  That's a Halloween.  Great. 
    What else.  I don't want my music to be spooky.  I'm decidedly against spooky music.  That's no good.  You know what, I've been thinking about returning to castle Wolfenstein.  Why would you do that?!  You know, you... get off my back!  That's how that might go.  In an alternate universe I thought of a decent way to end that riff.  Spooky.  Is alternate universe an oxymoron?  Uni means one.  Sure, there's the multiverse.  They say we live in a multi-verse, yet we still call the individual ones universe.  Someone fucked up.  I'm lookin' at you, Galileo!  If people who say we faked the Moon Landing were around in the sixteenth century, would they be saying Columbus faked the America Landing?  Probably.  That's how I feel.  I bet in Columbus' first letter back to his homeland, the theme of the letter was And you all doubted me.
    False history! pushes up glasses Most people agreed the Earth was round already before Columbus! pushes up glasses.  That's my new character.  Guy who wears glasses.  I got inspiration from myself.  Columbus doin' a touchdown dance when he reaches America.  Starts a chant with all his crew And You All Doubted Me!  And You All Doubted Me!  Jeez.  Gets on the East Coast, finds some people.  Hey, these people look different than us!  Let's Kill' Em!  What an asshole.  They introduce him to corn.  Hey, what do you call this?  Maize?  We're gonna call it corn.  Why.  Anyway, crap and crap.  If I had done a B- on my song, maybe one or two people would have asked to hear more.  Oh well, live and learn.  How could I have predicted a C- song would be so mediocre.
    Alright!  Fifteenth paragraph!  Man, whatta ride.  Also, there was no structure for the background music.  I just played chords.  Makes it sound more like a poem.  That's my story and I'm stickin' to it.  I'm pot committed one would argue.  WSOP main event, down to five people.  I watched the first two thirds of last night then gave up.  I began watching it like, Alright, gonna be some good poker!  That's why this is entertaining!  Then I realized the correct way to watch it was What drama!  One of them is gonna win 8 million dollars!  Switched over to that kind of drama.  Oh well, live and learn.  I wonder what wuold happen if halfway through the night someone just got up and knocked over everyone's chip stacks.  Knock em over so much they bleed into each other.  My guess?  They take the million dollars away from you.
    Eh.  In this event, they probably have all the chips calculated after each hand.  In a non-televised event, though, that's one way to mix things up.  I'm pretty sure there's a rule not to knock over someone else's stack.  Seems like that would be a footnote in the rule book.  Anyway.  Stupid election creeping up.  Scary.  This is the sixteenth paragraph, though.  You can't take that away from me.  Unless if you knock over all the paragraphs.  Please don't.  I'll take away the million dollars I was gonna give to you if you read this.  That'll learn you for mucking my shit up.  Also, not happy about the dealer they had at the final table.  Not great at doing the flop.  We see a card for half a second first, then it evens out.  We gotta be seeing these at the same time.  Where'd you learn dealing the flop.  We deserve better.
    Just gave some candy to trick or treaters.  My parents aren't home and I figured I'd perform a Hero.  I don't wanna do that again.  Walking up and down the stairs, rushin' to get to the door in time, that's energy that I just don't have.  I don't even have enough energy to finish typing the word rushin'.  Jeez.  Love chocolate bars where the name of the bar is embossed on the bar.  Makes it that much more classy, that I'm eating letters.  Really makes a man feel like a man.  Should give some loose cigarettes to kids.  Don't tell your parents.  In fact, smoke right here, while I watch you.  Oh yeah.  That's the stuff.  You know, because I'm a pervert?  That kind of thing.
    I don't know what this says about the election, but I can more easily imagine Donald Trump giving candy to kids than Hillary Clinton.  Sure, Donald Trump doing it would be creepy as fuck.  But I could imagine it.  But Hillary doin' it, that would just be neutral.  Trying to imagine it is futile because there's no payoff.  There's my insight into Election.  Riff about Trump giving candy to trick or treaters.  I'm just not in the mood.  Trump just depresses me.  I don't know what this says about the election, but Trump depresses me, and Hillary is just neutral.  Probably a lot, one would imagine.  Jeez.  Crap and crap indeed.
    Nineteenth paragraph already.  That's what happens when 95% of what you say is Crap.  I can't imagine myself giving candy to trick or treaters.  I just did it and trying to imagine it I'm just drawin' a blank.  How do you draw a blank.  That seems like an oxymoron.  That'll show them, that'll show all of them.  Huh?  Oh well.  What else.  The Candy Test is probably because I see Trump as more pandering to his audience.  Clinton does too, I suppose, but I'm on her side.  So that's not 100% how I interpret it.  That's how that might go.  Also, Trump's audience is stupid-- like kids.  That's probably where these feelings are coming from now that I think about it.
    Jeez.  Could this paragraph be the last?  Possibly.  At this rate, I feel like I got some more in me.  That's how that might go.  What else and crap.  Know I'm rampin' up to something great' with "What Else and crap!"  Probably.  There are no more trick or treaters yet!  Doesn't anyone want me?!  Probably not.  Judging by how many trick or treaters I've gotten so far, at least.  Pretty good judgment to make one would imagine.  Let's see, words, words... There's gotta be some words I haven't used yet.  Antidisestablishmentarianism.  I know I haven't said that word yet, I don't have the energy to.  Typing all that took the wind out of me.  Not even counting using Spell Check, and it corrected it to Antidisestablishmentarians, and I had to edit it again.  Whatta load of bullcrap.
    What else is a load of bullcrap.  I got more paragraphs in me!  Finally things seem to be turning my way.  My parents just got home.  What bullcrap.  I was in the zone writing this as the only person in the house.  Now I gotta make a load of adjustments and I don't know if I have it in me.  Baseball has a day off today.  It's about time.  I think I'm back to rooting for The Cubs again.  Gotta go with the underdog.  Except in poker.  Stupid amateurs, I hate them so much.  What else.  One and a half more paragraphs.  And by half a paragraph I mean 3-5 more sentences of bullshit on this one.  Stupid paragraph, I hate it so much.  That's how I feel.  What else and crap.
    Last paragraph!  Let's do it.  I don't wanna write another paragraph.  I'm pot committed at this point, though.  Whatta do with the rest of the day.  Possibly watch some poker if I'm up to it.  Too much drama.  I can't stand it.  I don't like watching people in real time play poker as I know their hands.  I don't want to read you, I just wanna watch some poker!  That's how that might go one would imagine.  So many antics I could pull if I was at the final table.  Let's just imagine some of them.  I don't have time to think of a few.  I'm bringing you into the process, givin' you a chance to some participation.  Don't make me regret it!  Anyway.  I'll see ya later.

-5:51 P.M. 
       
     

Wednesday, October 25, 2016

Good Point, I'm Not That Great

    That's what I gathered from today's Poetry Workshop.  Still, though, How Dare You.  Five day weekend.  Four day weekend in your interpreation of weekend, which is wrong.  If there's one thing I want to get out of this website is to influence how people view weekends.  Particularly when their day of work starts at 1:40.  Extra day that you're not counting you morons.  What do you mean most people's days don't start at 1:40 and end an hour and a half later.  How dare you and whatnot.  I'm pretty sure Hillary Clinton's acceptance speech is gonna be I'm really not that great, tricked ya'!  Damn tricksters.  Always mucking things up for the general population.
    Oh well.  If Donald Trump wins, and I ran a newspaper, my headline would be How Stupid Is America?!  Turns out, in that scenario, pretty damn stupid.  Anyway, crap and crap.  It's almost over.  Not life, the election.  Although life is almost over too in the grand scheme of things.  Even in the not so grand scheme of things.  What's a word for, "Not so grand?"  I don't know.  E-mail me your suggestions.  The point is the week is over.  I do need to write a Halloween Poem for Monday.  He mentioned The Raven as one of his two examples.  Damnit, now my Raven II: Electric Boogaloo idea won't be as cutting edge.  Quoth the Raven, 'Nevermore...' --  or will there be?  CUT TO TEN YEARS LATER, EXT. HOUSE - Night  Poems are movies, right?
    Anyway.  Or I could write a prequel.  How the Raven turned evil after watching his parents fall down a well.  What else is going on.  I don't know.  Quoth The Raven... One More Time.  That's a good title.  The Raven comes out of retirement to do one last Ravening.  It would have been really impressive if Edgar Allen Poe's most memorable poem was I'm Edgar Allen Poe And I'm Here To Say/Gonna Write Some Poetry The Edgar Allen Poe Way!  He was light years ahead of that rhyme becoming commonplace.  He started it.  There, that's a misuse of the term light year.  Great. 
    Crap and crap.  Stupid people, being right about their critiques of my poem.  Where do they get off.  Probably in the genital area.  That's where most people do.  Ext. House.  I'm really good at descriptions.  Gotta leave something to the director's imagination.  Anyway, crap and crap.  Fourth paragraph.  Let's see, words, words.  Baseball is Happening Again tonight.  I mistakenly said that the Cleveland Indians had alliteration between their city name and their team name.  Upon closer inspection, it appears I was wrong.  I do have it on good authority though that Cleveland Rocks.  I heard it from Nobody's Favorite Comedian Drew Carey.
    The good news is what else.  I was mulling it over in my head, and my instinct is to pronounce my band name as Thee Uppers, as apposed to Tha Uppers.  I don't know how I got there because in essence it's the wrong way to pronounce it.  Just feels right, though.  Really classes it up.  And if there's anything I want my Fake Band to be, it's Classy.  Anyway.  Sold a cigarette for a dollar.  Profit!  Some girl was calling out to me Hey, Hey! for half a block.  I finally turn around and realize she's talking to me and wants a cigarette.  These are the stories that will last forever.
    What else.  Probably something and crap.  Odds are there is at least one thing going on that I'm not thinking of.  Anyway.  The good news is what else and crap.  Election heating up.  I'm rooting for the one that's not the worst president we would ever have or even be able to imagine.  The other one, she's got my vote.  I hope I get a sticker for voting.  That's a sticker I could be proud of.  I can buy some stickers off other people voting and then take a picture of myself with all the stickers and that will be my Halloween costume two weeks behind somehow.  I guess.  If I wanted to go that route.  Nothin's stopping me except for the fabric of the space-time continuum.  My Halloween Poem could be called Donald Trump Just Pulled Ahead In The Polls.  That would be scary and all.
    Well, there's a rival idea for The Raven II.  It's good to have options.  Anyway, crap and crap.  Maybe this entry will be like last one and I pick up some steam around here.  One would imagine it's a possibility.  Two things I should do.  Set up Advising Appointment.  Get Guitar fixed.  Those are two things.  That I should do.  Because of crap.  I need to shake things up a bit.  Gettin' guitar fixed, that's a game changer.  For sure.  I don't know.  If only I had a box to put the 8-track recorder on.  Also, it's really a six track.  There's track 1, track 2, track 3, track 4, then a track 5/6 and a track 7/8.  Who you foolin'.  This is a 6 track recorder.  Stupid things, I hate them so much.
    Crap and crap.  Eighth paragraph.  That's how we do.  What else is going on.  Also need to memorize a poem to recite on Monday.  Also need to go to class Monday.  And survive the next several days so I can go to class on Monday.  You know, Wednesday night, Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Monday morning?  You know, Five Days?  This is something I feel very strongly about.  Jeez and Yeesh and whatnot.  The good news is I have a chance to revise my faulty poem.  My classmates won't see it, but I can knock it out of the park.  Get the Letter Grade Equivalent of a Check Plus Plus for all the greatness I injected into it since the last time Professor saw it.
    I was pretty sure I'd get a Check on the poem I got back today.  It was handwritten and pretty terrible.  It was the first draft of another poem I submitted, where everything except for half of one line was discarded, then I realized I needed to hand in another poem, so I handed that in.  These are the days of our lives.  This was the Great, Just Great poem.  That wasn't really great.  Sort of along the lines of the book we're reading for Comedy Class, What's So Funny.  Not that funny.  Well, I haven't read a word of it yet.  From what I've heard, though, not impressed.  Now, let's get back to speculating how Lewis Black will die.  My guess, drug overdose.  They should have gotten Lewis Black to play the PC Computer instead of John Hodgeman.  PCs always yellin' at ya.  Totally unbalanced. Woulda spiced things up a bit. 
    Tenth paragraph?  Yep.  Movin' right along.  74 cents currently in poker.  I can either bust or get double up.  1.50, I can work with that.  Except if I lose forty cents and then double up.  70 cents?  We're right back to where we started!  Even lower!  That's the most likely scenario, I'm callin' it.  How about Edgar Allen Poe Meets The Bride Of Frankenstein.  What would that entail.  Also, it's still not a movie.  It's a poem.  You could write poems about people meeting other people.  No rule says you can't.  At least not one I've come across. 87 cents now.  Gettin' there.  Up a lot of percent from the 55 cents I started the day with.  How much?  A lot.  I'ma say roughly 160-180% overall.  Or, more accurately, I don't know, forty to sixty percent?  Who knows for sure.  Math Is Hard.  
    Crap and crap and whatnot and crap.  I know for voting you need to vote in the right percent.  So if 80 or 90 million people vote, what percentage of that is you casting one vote.  That was my first guess to approximate voting, turns out I lowballed it.  2012 was 130 million.  And that was an election more or less nobody cared about!  Not bad.  Anyway.  So much has happened this year.  Why, there were the primaries.  Then the election.  The the second half of the election.  2016 will surely go down as the year as the year we voted for a president again.  Great.  What else and crap.  Only the eleventh paragraph.  Or, alright, already the eleventh paragraph.  Who knows for sure.  Except that the number of the paragraph will change in three, two, one...
    Called it!  Whatta genius.  Comments on my poem today.  Hey, you have two lines that are decent, why not make the rest of the poem decent?  Good feedback.  Honest, to the point.  Good for them and me and Professor.  Also, everybody else's poems have poetic language and crap, to varying degrees of success.  My poems are all bullshit narrative without any flowery crap and stuff.  I'm no good at this.  Anyway.  Entry now.  Let's focus on that.  You know, bullshit narrative and crap?  What the what.  Also, they were way off.  I have three decent lines.  How dare you and whatnot.  Crap and crap.   
    What else.  I start bleeding a lot in class.  Well, not a lot.  But more than would be expected.  Biting my nails, some skin gets cut, a little bit of blood.  Wipe it off on my looseleaf paper.  Make designs with it.  You know, that kind of crap.  What else.  Is it loose leaf if it's in a note book.  It's not loose.  But it's essentially the same.  Just made a poker mistake because I wasn't paying attention enough.  Called on the river with top pair not fully realizing there was four to a straight.  Oh well, live, and, presumably, learn.  One would imagine.  Gotta do something online instead of tomorrow's class.  I should check out what I have to do.  You know, so I can do it?  Because I have to?
    Yeesh.  Thirteenth paragraph.  I'd say the majority of a time I give someone a cigarette they don't ask for a lighter.  Maybe not majority, maybe 50/50.  That means they're carrying around a lighter... without cigarettes.  Seems kind of stupid to me.  Oh well.  Not my problem.  Maybe they're just forgetting to ask for a lighter, and ten minutes later, they're like, Oh, Shit.  Who knows.  Not me.  That's why I expressed not knowing it.  For accuracy.  Yeesh.  Crap and crap.  Weekend is coming up.  That's a trip.  It's like the week except it's the end.  That settles that.  I don't know.
    What else and crap.  I don't know.  I can't wait till six months from now and I look back on these recent entries and am like Hmm, Turns Out It Was All Shit.  It's good to have something to look forward to.  Fourteenth paragraph.  Alright!  Crap and crap.  Lately my back hurts by the time I'm done with an entry.  From slouchin' over the computer and what not.  That's no good.  I need a computer built for adults.  Or children.  Math is hard.  Can't figure out which way makes it better.  Oh well.  I was thinking on the way home about trying a science experiment where everyone on the Earth jumps up at the same time.  Would hitting the ground throw the Earth out of rotation?  My guess?  Probably.
    What do you mean half the Earth is already walking at the same time.  That doesn't sound right.  You're a liar.  How dare you and whatnot.  Almost 75% done with the entry, assuming 20 paragraphs.  See, I know some math.  I know counting, I know 3/4ths.  That's pretty good.  You know 3/4ths, you're already smarter than the average Trump supporter.  What else is going on.  News about some principal in a downtown Manhattan high school gettin' beat up by a student.  I went to a high school in downtown Manhattan!  Not this one, but hey, I'm practically in the news!  How exciting and whatnot.  Crap and crap.  I'm about three or four levels removed from that story.  That's pretty good.
    Anyway.  What else is going on that I'm almost practically  tangentially related to.  Probably nothin.  Dam.  What else and crap.  Sixteenth paragraph.  Gotta keep a running tab or I'll get confused.  That's how that goes.  Just split a pot in poker I should have won.  Well, there goes that.  Guess my life is terrible.  If one can extrapolate one poker hand with less than a dollar in the pot to represent my entire life.  Why wouldn't you.  That's how I feel.  Keeps gettin' closer to my birthday.  Reasonably sure I can get my brother to give me birthday money on Poker.  Then I can play with a giant cushion, this is the best cushion you're ever gonna see.  It's gonna be huge.  I know Trump pronounces a lot of things funny, but my favorite is China.  No real reason.  Just strikes a chord with me, that's all.
    There's not as many Chinese Gangs in my neighborhood as I would have thought.  By my count, not even one.  These kids of Chinese parents are growing up and they'll be teenagers sooner or later.  Teenagers form gangs.  We'll see how this plays out, I will keep you updated.  Seventeenth paragraph!  We're gettin' there, alright.  Not just Chinese people in my neighborhood, I reckon.  Asians of all shapes and colors.  Even some white people.  More than there used to be.  Oh well.  That's how things go I guess.  What else.  Very close to busting in poker.  Corresponds to the end of the entry pretty well.  Then I can spend my weekend like it should be spent-- lying in bed, thinking about where I went wrong.
    Great!  Doubled up instead of busting.  Shit, just got pocket aces.  Time to bust.  Hey, I didn't bust!  I'll keep you updated on this situation as it progresses.  I guess.  No reason not to.  Back down to where I was before I doubled up.  Jeez.  Let's move on with the entry.  Talking about poker measured in cents can't be that interesting.  The good news is what else is going on.  Two and a half paragraphs to go!  How exciting.  Will they be good?  Will they be bad?  Will they be a level below bad?  I've narrowed it down to those three things.  Jeez.  Alright, busted in poker.  Got unlucky, but ces't la vie.  Which I believe translates to Dondes Esta El Sanitario.
    Crap and crap.  Penultimate paragraph.  Alright, I'll try, get off my back!  Words!  Birthday is in less than seven weeks.  I'll be able to play all the poker I can handle.  Radmobile!  No one understands that.  Wait, no, not Radmobile.  Jeopardy.  There we go.  I find it weird where people talk about Jeopardy like they learn from it.  Maybe some people's brains work that way I guess.  WorWork like that, you mean, able to absorb knowledge?  I guess.  Get off my back!  When it comes to knowledge I'm like Drew Barrymore in 50 first dates.  I can remember everything I learned before a certain point in my life I'm not sure of, and everything after that just doesn't register the next day.
    How about that.  Sure is a paragraph.  Oh.  Gotta read the book this weekend.  That's alright.  I might end up liking it.  Instead of holding hostile grudges against it because this guy made money writing a book that I could do better at.  I'll keep you updated on this situation as it develops.  Anyway, entry, entry.  I went into the World Series figuring I'd root for the Cubs.  Watching half of it yesterday, I thought, Eh, I'd kind of rather root for the Indians.  I'll keep you updated on this situation as it craps and crap and whatnot and bullshit.  More than 20 paragraphs this entry!  I'm callin' it.  How about that and whatnot.
    Jeez.  Gotta wake up early tomorrow so I can participate in the Freeroll that is exponentially better than other freerolls.  I assume.  Math Is Hard, we've established that.  First prize is like 50 dollars.  That's a lot of rides in the Radmobile.  WSOP is on Sunday I believe.  I'm rooting for the guy that was a famous successful online player.  Hey, Online!  I Have That!  Very relatable and whatnot.  I won a standard free roll a week ago which gave me my almost current bankroll.  Over 700 people, first prize was two and a half dollars.  Not bad.  You make two and a half dollars for four hours work, you call that a good day.  You do if you're me, at least.
    What else.  Four or Five episodes of Larry Sanders to go.  I like the part where stuff happens.  That's how I feel.  Crap and crap.  This'll likely be the last paragraph.  Because I'm out of shit to say, that's why.  How dare you.  I don't really need to wake up early tomorrow.  Same time as I would have if I was going to class.  Except this time, I can make fifty dollars instead of going to class!  That's exponentially more money than I would make in class.  The good news is what else and crap.  Nothing, I guess.  See ya later.

-6:28 P.M. 
i got mixed up counting the paragraphs.


     

Tuesday, October 25, 2016

Time To Do Stuff

    Just got my main paper to do for Comedy Class.  Very open ended.  As long as we relate it to the novel, can write about anything.  I'ma write about comedy.  That seems appropriate.  I can even do somethin' referencing Crazysheet. Whose gonna stop me, you?  You don't have the gumption.  The good news is tomorrow is the last day of the week.  About time.  ShowShowed my ID to gas station clerk to buy beer.  Caught a glimpse of the picture of me.  You know, when I was an appropriate weight, I didn't look so bad.  I like the way I worked it no diggity.  The point is Let's Get Comedying It Up.  I'm way better at comedy than this crap book.
    Professor says this book is a sleeper hit.  No one knows about it now, but in 40 years, it's gonna be the talk of the town.  I'm way better than this book. I didn't read it yet, but we discussed a riff where the narrator is getting his teeth done and fantasizing about having sex with the dental hygienist.  How abusurd yet relatable!  That's got nothin' on my riff about trying not to lick the dental hygienist's hands.  That's lightyears ahead of this crap.  It takes the exact same thing, but I go the extra mile.  The point is I'm great and in 40 years I'll be the talk of the town.  Which town?  Who knows.  Maybe in 40 years we'll all live in one big town.  That's how I feel.
    What else and crap.  If I had the work ethic, I could probably go through all crazysheet ever and edit it and put together a stream of consciousness book that's wonderful.  The point is Great.  Nothin' worthwhile in this entry yet.  Give me some time, okay.  Get off my back and whatnot.  Workshoppin' my poem tomorrow.  That'll show 'em, that'll show all of 'em.  I don't know what that accomplishes.  Later I noticed I had mucus in my nose and hoped that dental hygienist didn't notice it.  Never before have I wished I could heckle a book this much.  The title is What's So Funny.  Good point.  That's all I'm sayin'. 
    Final Table of the World Series Of Poker: 2016 Edition Let's Get Pokering With It And Watch It On T.V. So We Could Get Money From Advertisers Because That's How Things Work.  That should be fun.  In the final episode of stuff that already happened there's a big argument between between a guy who keeps table talkin' and a guy who gets annoyed by it.  Guy who does the table talkin' defended it by saying It's Just Speech Play.  Speech Play.  I like that term.  It's great.  Try and convince me otherwise.  You'll fail.  I'm pot committed to enjoying the term Speech Play.  These are the real issues.
    I haven't said anything funny yet.  Wait for it.  It's a-comin'.  Baseball is Tonight.  I'm Rooting For Baseball.  Wait for it...  I don't know.  Both teams logo is just a, "C."  What's The Deal With Things!  Different fonts, though.  That's how we can tell them apart.  And And both teams have alliteration C's with their team name and team city.  Let's get some statisticians working on that one.  The good news is Fifth Paragraph.  Can I go as a Fifth Paragraph for Halloween?  Probably not.  I have nothing to go to places as.  Stupid Halloween being on a Monday.  I can't believe I'm the first one to say this!
    I don't know.  Gotta do something.  Professor said something about the book, It's funnier when its not funny!  Let's hope that applies to Websites.  In that case, I'm knockin' this one out of the park.  Watched a couple of minutes of Sam Kinison today.  Nine minutes of Lewis Black.  Professor asked us how Sam Kinison died, he was like Was it a drug overdose?  And I was like Yeah I think so.  Then someone else said it was a car accident.  And I comitted to my story.  Pretty sure it was a drug overdose.  Now I find out I'm wrong.  Well, there goes that.  Not only did people lose respect for me but I look like an asshole.  Oh well.  I knew he died.  I got that part right.
    What else.  Then Professor asked us to speculate how Lewis Black might die.  Anyway.  I gotta read this book.  You know, for strategy?  So I can write the paper and whatnot.  I do have a five day weekend more or less.  The good news is What Else.  He could have been overdosing while he got into his car accident.  We don't know.  We can only assume Probably.  Maybe his Drug was getting into car accidents and this is the one that finally took him out.  Drug overdose could apply in that very possible situation.  Hillary Clinton's birthday is tomorrow.  Happy Birth...day Mrs. President.  Who would sing that at her party.  Bon Iver?  He's the go-to celebrity sex symbol, right?
    I don't know who Bon Iver is.  All I know is that now I know how to correctly pronounce it after a lifetime of getting it wrong.  I wonder if The JFK Birthday Party Commission had to pay royalties to use that song.  My guess?  Probably.  Who knows for sure.  Gotta write a poem for tomorrow.  I don't know on what yet.  Still waitin' for the prompt that says Make Up Some Words!  I'll make up some great words, let me tell you.  I don't know.  What paragraph are we up to.  Eighth.  Okay.  I can keep this entry short.  No reason to subject you to more pain than I already have.  Anyway, crap and crap.  I don't know. 
    Ninth paragraph.  That's how we do.  I don't know.  Election is in two weeks.  It's still important, because the more Hillary wins by, the worse Trump feels.  Right?  I guess.  I don't know.  I can get Beef Patty + Pizza today.  Was thinkin' about getting Nathans from Campus Cafeteria and bringing it home.  Thought about it.  Decided against it.  I don't wanna spend two minutes after class, delaying my cigarette.  That's no good.  The good news is I'm a paragraph away from a short but sweet but not so sweet but definitely short entry relative to other entry.
    Anyway.  What else.  Hah.  Stream of consciousness about guy who thinks about sex and is self conscious about his appearance.  This is gold, Jerry, gold!  What else.  Who knows.  Maybe I can write some good paragraphs.  It would be a welcome addition to this entry.  You know, on account of all the bullshit?  Let's see, jokes, jokes.  Get a load of Abbott and Costello, have you heard about this.  I wonder if Whose On First is a delightful self-referential romp about how people confuse their names.  Whose Abbott, whose Costello.  Took that and turned it into gold.  Well, cracked that code.
    Anyway.  Last paragraph.  Eleven.  It's better than ten.  I can at least say that.  What else and crap.  Had some buffalo wings that tasted like pork rinds last night.  These Are The Days Of Our Lives.  I always found that show depressing.  Like sand through an hour glass, these are the days of our lives.  Seems counterintuitive.  Making us feel like our lives are being wasted.  Hey, my life keeps goin like bullshit and crap, gonna be over soon too.  Let's watch some more T.V.!  That's how that goes.  For some reason.  Just lost all my poker money.  Maybe that'll free up some attention span to write some entry.  Let's see, words, words.  Let's get to fifteen paragraphs.
    Twelfth right here.  That's good.  Certainly is a number.  Can't argue with that.  I like to imagine that Sam Kinison's last words were AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.  How fitting.  I'd be upset too if I was about to die.  I wonder if Sam Kinison's life flashed before his eyes, it would just be a three second clip of him on stage going AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.  One can only imagine probably.  What else and crap.  The theme today was angry comedians.  The nine minutes of Lewis Black wasn't even of him being angry.  I think Professor just picked it at random.  And felt pot committed after the first thirty seconds of it being subdued and didn't want us to lose respect for him for choosing an inappropriate bit for the lesson he was trying to teach and then bailing on it.  That's pretty much a running theme.  Him pickin' uninsightful clips. 
    The point is let's get him fired.  If you can't utilize Youtube correctly, you don't deserve a job.  What else and crap.  Obamacare going to crap.  Wait, does this mean... Obama... doesn't care?  That's no good.  That's politics for you.  You implemant a plan that neither side is happy with, and then it doesn't work.  #DrainTheSwamp.  I think Donald Trump would be a pretty good casting choice if we're remaking The Creature From The Black Lagoon.  Now that I think about it, he's a pretty good casting choice for any monster-type villain.  Totally believable, 100% and whatnot.
    Yeesh.  I don't know.  Startin' to pick up some pace after I busted in poker.  And it corresponds to taking my second Ritalin of the day and pouring my self some alcoholic drink content.  I guess it turns out drugs are good for you.  That's my takeaway from this experience.  I had a nightmare that people from my high school were plotting against me.  I don't remember all the details but they were conspiring with each other to cause me harm in some way or another.  Probably an accurate memory.  One can only assume people in my high school who I didn't know were plotting against me.  It makes perfect sense now that I think about it. 
    Also, it took place on the first floor of my high school.  Not a lot goes on there.  Second floor is more or less the first floor, on account of the main entrance being on the second floor, and the first floor mainly for show.  Second floor through tenth floor, that's where we take care of business in classes.  First floor, that's where the auditorium was, and a big lobby reserved for cuddle parties.  That's not a joke.  We had cuddle parties going on after school.  They wrote a newspaper article about it.  Very controversial.  The point is I'm already out of my element on the first floor and now I gotta deal with people plotting against me? 
    That's no good.  What else and crap.  Five paragraphs to get to twenty.  Guess I had it in my all along.  Probably.  There's still five paragraphs to get to twenty.  Crap and crap.  Let's see.  This semester really got me in the zone for writing bullshit.  Poetry workshop, lots of creative writing there.  Comedy Class, gettin' me in the zone of thinking about comedy even during class.  Two empty classes I never took, gives me free time to write here.  The point is what's gonna happen in the Winter and Spring!  I can hardly contain my wonderment.  To be honest, not really trying to contain it.  I don't mind if you know all about my wonderment.  I'm happy to be public about that kind of shit.  Anyway.
    Four to go!  Turns out I'ma Did It after all. After all should be accepted as one word.  Afterall.  Or not.  Now that I think about it, yeah, I'm against it.  We'd have to pronounce it differently.  Very similar to the pronunciation of Adderall.  Adderall.  Afterall.  Who knows, in the future, maybe that's the route the English language is gonna take.  For now, though, let's stick with after all.  These are the real issues.  I'm doin' well in a freeroll pretty deep into it.  Great, just great.  Now I'm gonna make 55 cents and lose that.  I'm sick of losing free money.  Also, I lost that 9 cents I had before this all started.  So I'm down 9 cents even when playing with free money.  Great, just great.
    Anyway, crap and crap.  What else.  I've been tasting alcohol more than I used to.  Either I'm pouring more or there's another reason.  I have it narrowed down to those two things.  Great, just great.  What else is great.  Election still isn't over.  Hillary's Campaign's E-mails have a point.  We cannot grow complacent!  I don't know how you guys feel, but if Trump wins, that's bad news bears in my opinion.  Stupid high school people plotting against me.  I'll go back in time and plot against them!  The best defense is a good offense.  Yeesh.  What, two more paragraphs after this?  That's all?  Great.  I gotta get my electric guitar fixed.  One of 'em.  I liked the older one better even though its older and cheaper.  This has been the longest I've gone without playing it since I started.  I wanna say in 2005.  Off chance it was 2004.  I know I started recording my bullshit in 2005.  And I also want to say I started recording my bullshit more or less immediately. 
    I wanna say a lot of things.  And, in talking about saying them, saying them.  That's how that works.  Crap and crap.  I'm gonna check out what poem I have to write.  BRB LOL.  Eh, just some bullshit.  That's where Poetry Workshop really comes into play of helping these entries.  Gets me in the habit of writing bullshit and being complacent with its adequacy.  The good news is More Pimping The Uppers tomorrow on account of my poem being about music and we're workshopping it.  I'll trick people into listening to my crap if its the last thing I do.  Hopefully not.  The last thing I do is gonna be a three second clip of me going "Crap and crap..." fade to black.
    Alright.  I could live with that.  Well, I would have been able to.  Apparently I can't live with that as it's followed immediately by my death.  I can die with that.  20th paragraph.  I got some more in me.  Took a while to warm up but settled into some real adequate territory.  Man, if I was thin, I might even border on being satisfied with my appearance.  That would be a trip.  There were probably three or four months in my life I was happy with how I looked.  Not neccesarily consecutive ones.  Maybe even times where it was only three or four days in a row.  The point is I got a lot to look forward to.  At this rate, I'll be at a healthy and visually not unattractive weight by 2621.  Or, as trump calls it, 621.  I don't even know if it was him who said the year seventeen.  I can't put that on Trump, I might be wrong.
    Good news is what else and crap!  I don't know.  I did something here, today.  I wrote a bunch of paragraphs.  Today could have been a wasted day.  Like sand through an hour glass.  Instead I packed it full of paragraphs that will live on long after I'm gone.  Did It!  And I ain't done yet for some reason.  The good news is What Else.  I don't know.  Now I'm close to busting in the free roll.  That's as good a time to end it as I'm gonna get.  Stupid people hitting five outers on the turn.  I hate them so much.  Depending on the polls you read, all Trump has to do is hit a 2-6 outer on the river.  Let's say you got an open ended straight draw but if one of those cards makes the other person a flush, goin into the river.  That's what Trump's got.
    Oh no!  Good news is what else.  I'm kind of annoyed that having 2nd pair on the flop isn't considered a draw.  What, six outs is a draw but 5 isn't?  Whatta gip.  I don't know.  Crap and crap.  I should get a bass guitar.  That'll show 'em, that'll show all of 'em.  Also, I need probably at least one guitar cable.  I'm not good at keepin' them un-broken.  Oh well.  Crap and crap.  I could write a paper on stream-of-consciousness comedy and how its a good place to start for any kind of comedy.  Or I could write a paper on something else.  I've narrowed it down to those two things.
    What the what.  Anyway.  I could write a paper about Why I'm Better Than This Jerk.  No reason not to.  I could make the paper funny, too!  That's a good idea.  Whatever it is, I can do that.  Knock it out of the park and whatnot.  It doesn't have to be a formal paper or anything, either.  We can just say crap like I think or In my opinion or crap like that.  Wonderful.  At least now I know not to get anchovies on my pizza.  If I've learnt anything the last month writing here its gotta be that.  What else and crap.  I've written so many entry recently.  That's great and whatnot.
    Gettin' real close to the end.  Good shot that this'll be the last paragraph.  What else and crap.  Yeah, this'll be the last paragraph.  Gotta do something.  Stopping doing something qualifies as doing something.  That's how I feel.  24th paragraph.  24 is a good even number, but 25 is even better.  We'll see and whatnot.  Just tripled up in poker.  That bodes well for 25 paragraphs.  Still gotta write stuff, though.  Can't just sit here for twenty minutes and have it written by osmosis.  Also, I wanna see Osmosis Jones.  And I mean right now.  I don't have time to wait to see Osmosis Jones.  No time like the present.  Yeesh.
    Crap and crap.  Yeesh.  Probably gonna get a Smart T.V. for my birthday/Chanukah present.  Then I can watch all sorts of T.V.  Netflix, Hulu, Amazon Prime.  Youtube.  Porn.  I'd be a fool not to get it.  Six outs is a gut shot + making a pair with a paired hole hand.  That's a straight up drawing hand.  Five outs deserves to be one too.  I feel very strongly about this.  Anyway.  Almost done.  Or, instead of T.V., I could just get a box.  That's the practical way to go.  And with all that money, I can get a really good box.  I don't know.  What else and crap.  I don't know.  I'll see ya later.

-6:41 P.M.

Monday, October 24, 2016

Return Of The Living Title

    Hello, friends!  What's going on and crap.  New week, new set of entry.  Let's get the word, "Entry," to be the plural of the word, "Entry."  As in, I've written a bunch of entry.  Makes it sound more sophisticated.  That's how I feel.  The good news is what else and crap.  I have to write a Halloween themed poem for next week.  Great, just great.  "Great, Just Great," was the title of the poem I submitted today.  Great, just great.  I might just hand in the 100 page script for Candyman.  That'll spark some interesting debate.  Anyway.  I don't know.  Classmate talking about Halloween to me before class.  What are you dressing up as?  Now, I know I'm older than most people in my class.  I didn't realize how much, though.
    That's great, just great.  What if that person reads this entry.  That'll be great, just great.  Great, just great.  That was the rejected Hillary Clinton slogan before they settled in Love Trumps Hate.  It was Great, Just Great.  Because they're both three words and rhyme.  That's what they were narrowed down to, apparently.  They knew they wanted three words and three syllables with the last word rhyming with ate.  Anyway, crap and crap.  That can be the title of my next poem.  Crap and Crap.  I'm on the right track, at least.  Gotta write my scathing riff on Abbott and Costello still.  Maybe the reason this was so popular at the time was because people literally didn't know what comedy is.
    Maybe.  Put it in the maybe pile.  People in my Poetry Class starting to impress me more with comments they give.  Maybe I rushed to judgment too quickly, thinkin' I'm light years ahead of these people-- also, sure light years is a measurement of time, it has years in it, don't it-- also, apparently I still used it correctly, I didn't need to riff about how I used it incorrectly-- and maybe these people deserve more respect than I'm giving them.  If that sentence was three times as long it could have been something Trump said.  That's what makes it topical.  My classmate said something about It sucks Halloween is on a Monday... which I took to mean she was planning on doing some trick or treating.
    Stupid young people, I hate them so much.  Finally getting chilly as we approach November.  Probably no overall reason for that.  What else.  Election is in two weeks!  I wonder what T.V. will tell me to care about after its over.  My guess?  Supreme Court gets bumped up to top billing.  And/or the attempted coup Trump supporters try to pull off.  The tricky thing about attempting a coup is you need people to support you.  All you got is three guys named Craig.  I coulda done better with the name than Craig.  Craig doesn't sound like the prototypical Trump supporter, however, it is a funny sounding word.  Craig.  I'm laughin'.
    Fifth paragraph.  When you devote some time to really thinking about it, Hank Kingsley is possibly the most interesting/greatest character that's ever been on T.V. in history.  Let's watch T.V. about it.  I threw up into an empty garbage can a couple of nights ago.  By empty, I mean no plastic bag or anything.  Great, now how am I gonna feel comfortable eating out of an empty garbage can.  I was thinking about it and I miss having a box in my room I ate off of.  I would set the box, a nice sized box, by my bed, put my dinner off it.  Would put my 8-track recorder on it, record off it.  A third thing.
    Crap and crap.  The ironic thing about the Great, Just Great poem is that its terrible.  Hope Teacher gets that I'm employing diverse layers of humor and irony and sarcasm.  Get me some Check Plus Plus in that crap.  I don't get the video game Return to Castile Wolfenstein.  You already got out once, consider yourself lucky.  Returning there?  You're just asking for trouble.  I like how in every video game, you get shot 20 times, and it just decreases your health.  That's not realistic.  Not one bit.  Even getting Upper Cut 20 times would kill you.  Most Street Fighter matches would end up in death in the real world.  Then you're guilty for voluntary manslaughter.  And that goes on your permanent record.
    I don't think I ever had a permanent record in real life.  Maybe they kept records in elementary school and middle school, I don't know.  I do know that I knew that whether they knew or not it would have no impact on my life whatsoever.  In high school, sure, GPA dictates what colleges you can go to.  You get a Needs Improvement in 7th grade Spanish, you throw that report card out and who cares.  What else is Who Cares.  That's why I used Logic to not try too hard in elementary and middle school.  Why put in extra effort if there's no fruits to your hard work.  Let's get real.  Are Permanent Records just plot devices for children's T.V. shows?  Makes sense I guess.
    Eighth paragraph.  Alright!  What else and crap.  When asked what I'd be dressing up as for Halloween, I should have said As An Adult.  That woulda shut her up.  I hate people who make small talk with me so much.  I wonder if I'm ever going to go back to drinking Coke predominently instead of Pepsi.  I feel like I've switched back and forth a few times throughout my life.  Now I drink mostly Pepsi because that's what the Super Market has on sale every week.  They switch to Coke, I'm switching to Coke.  It's something I need to start thinking about now so I'm prepared for when it inevitably happens at some point.  I once went to a weekly meeting for people in my hospital to socialize, I never went again because it was all people in their 40's and 50's who are pointedly worse off than me mentally, but the point is, they had a three liter bottle of a cola brand that's a step below R.C. Cola. 
    No wonder these people are crazy.  Well, there's a correlation there, definitely.  Causation?  If there is, probably the other way around.  The soda isn't making them crazy-- they're buying 3 liter bottles of sub-substandard cola because they are crazy.  Glad I figured that one out.  I feel like my website is the equivalent of the 3 liter bottle of the worst cola you could imagine.  Quantity I'm knocking it out of the park.  Quality-- well, it's technically drinkable, isn't it?  That's how I feel.  I get too many e-mails from the Clinton campaign about stickers.  Want a sticker?  Have some sticker.  Vote on the next sticker.  That gets people pumped up.  Stickers.  Again, what are we, children?  What practical use does a sticker have in an adult's life.  Barely has any use in a four year olds life.
    I got some ideas for stickers.  Sticker that says She's Gonna Stick'er Principles!  Someone get me on the campaign.  If there's puns involved, great, all the negatives go out the window.  Also, I guess you can put stickers on your car windows.  Only place I can imagine putting it.  But then that blocks your view for a 2x2 inch area.  That's dangerous.  I want a license plate that says Proud Owner of a license Plate.  That's how I feel.  Tenth paragraph here.  That's pretty good.  What else and crap.  Wore my grey sweatshirt jacket for the first time since spring.  Then we workshopped a poem called A Grey Sweater in class today.  We had gotten it in advance.  I panicked for about half the class hoping no one thought I was referencing the poem in my attire choices.
    Most people don't think like me, though.  Thankfully.  What else and crap.  I Wore An Orange Shirt, Too, YOU WANNA TALK ABOUT THAT?  That was my prepared response if anyone asked me about it.  Jeez.  I'm not a fan of that book and movie that made the color Grey dirty.  Grey was a great color before all these sexual associations.  Totally ruined grey for me.  That's how I feel.  There's Adhesive On The Back Of This Sticker, Just Like... Hillary?  That's a sticker I'd want.  Oh, I know.  Stick to her principles.  What do you mean I already said that?  How dare you and whatnot.  Democrats Stick Together!  That's one way to go.  Not so popular among independent and republican voters, though.  A little bit too exclusive.
    Yeesh.  I told myself I wasn't gonna donate to anyone, but man do I want those stickers.  Wonderful.  I'd rather vote on Hillary Clinton's policy positions.  That's the future of politics.  Probably.  Who knows.  Twelfth paragraph.  Gettin' there.  We're gettin' there.  This is usually around the place I hit a wall.  12-16 paragraphs.  You know, based on the last couple of weeks?  The good news is What Else and Crap.  I'll always have transitional phrases.  That transition the discussion from Nothing to Who Cares.  I've been considering cutting down drinking lately, mostly due to how it gives me acid-reflux.  Also, is acid-reflux a catch-all term for those kinds of symptoms?  I feel like it should be.  Makes my life that much easier. 
    Crap and crap.  Acid Reflux Capacitor.  What makes Trippy Time Travel possible.  All time travel has got to be pretty trippy, right?  That's why it's in a car.  What else is going on.  Conan is back this week!  I'm all about Conan.  What gets me through the week.  Pretty sure they're new this week.  I remember my T.V. saying something along those lines last time I checked.  Thinking about Hank Kingsley recently got me thinking about Andy Richter.  What were my thoughts about Andy Richter?  Thems Private!  How dare you and whatnot.  My T.V. once told me that Andy Richter controls the universe.  Haven't fact checked that one yet. 
    The good news is what else.  Lots of paragraphs to go, relatively.  That's good.  I'm all about paragraphs.  What gets me through the week.  I guess my Halloween Costume could be writing Happy Holloween on my face.  If you know a better way to celebrate Halloween, I'd like to hear it.  Also, it's spooky.  What's Wrong With This Guy?!  Scary stuff.  Only idea for Halloween Poem I have is The Raven II: More Raven More Furious.  It's a fun idea that I have no idea how to pull off.  I never read The Raven.  I get the gist of it.  It keeps saying Nevermore.  Which seems to explicitly deny the possibility of a sequel.  The Raven is pretty clear about that.  That's why it's so spooky!
    That's how I feel.  My second idea is handing in the lyrics to This Is Halloween from A Nightmare before Halloween, or Christmas, Ode To... Joy?  You know, that kind of crap.  Fifteenth paragraph.  Alright!  The good news is I put a plastic big in my garbage can and now it's pure, empty garbage can with bag.  The possibilities are endless for what ends up in there.  So full of hope and wonder.  Just threw out an empty pack of cigarettes.  That's how it gets started!  How wonderful.  Also, if I quit drinking, I don't have to buy alcohol again.  That's ninety seconds a week I just can't spare.  Wonderful.  What else and crap.  Rip Torn as Artie, Gary Shandling as Larry Sanders.  Completely lose themselves in their character.  What a great show.
    Wonder if that'll get picked up for a new season.  My guess?  No.  What else is going on.  I'm havin' a blast writing this entry.  The Week Has Begun.  Its late years were farther into history that I imagined.  They were making new Larry Sanders as recently as 1998.  That's almost the 2000's.  The 2000's is almost now.  Whoudathunkit.  Someone said something about The Year 17 recently, I wanna say Trump.  But Really?  Is that where we're headed when talking about the year?  I mean, I guess there's nothing terrible about it.  It just seems wrong.  And I don't like it.  Also, Fuck You.  That's how I feel.  Anyway, crap and crap.  I wonder if Talk Show Hosts getting That Much Pussy as Larry Sanders does is real.
    No joke there, just a wondering.  They present is as straight forward, like, Of course Larry Sanders would get this much pussy.  But who knows for sure.  What else and crap.  Late Night Talk Shows are the ultimate aphrodisiac.  What else and crap.  Seventeenth paragraph.  Alright alright.  One would imagine if I ever get a job it would be looked down upon to drink all day.  Damn not drinking all the time, I hate it so much.  Anyway.  Yeesh.  I also threw up a little on my bed sheet.  It's mega-torn though already, I should have thrown it out months ago.  Now I should throw it out again.  We'll see how this situation plays out.  What else and crap. 
    What else and crap.  I would never return to castle Wolfenstein.  Not in a million years.  They got zombie nazis.  Somethin' like that.  I like how in Doom, and probably other games, they have an image of you for how much health you have.  You're down to 77% health after getting shot seven times, the image has a bloody nose.  That seems about right.  I don't know.  What else and crap.  Finally hittin' the wall here.  That's fine.  What else.  Watched Pootie Tang a few days ago.  I liked it.  Liked it just fine.  Workshopping my poem on Wednesday.  Thankfully not Great, Just Great.  I have a feelin' that would have gone over my peers' heads. 
    What else and Yeesh.  You know I'm out of crap to say when I just talk about what I've watched on T.V. lately.  Also, if you're really intuitive.  That's how that goes.  Shagadelic.  Crap and crap.  Stupid Box not being in my room anymore.  Where did I go wrong.  Who knows.  The point is I'm almost done here.  I guess I can order a really large Amp and get a box out of that.  My birthday is coming up.  Or, I could just order a really large box.  Gotta be able to buy boxes somewhere, right?  I don't know.  Crap and crap and whatnot.  I don't know.  Yeesh.  Blanked out completely for 20 minutes.  I gotta close this up with another paragraph.
    The good news is this is that paragraph.  What else is going on.  Gotta get dinner tonight.  That's usually how nights play out.  What else.  Had money on poker for a few days.  Now close to losing it.  That allows me ample time to re-watch Encino Man over and over again.  Blessing in disguise.  Only three day week this week.  No class Thursday.  That makes today Tuesday.  And not having class every Friday makes today Wednesday.  Man is this week flying by.  I don't know.  Crap and crap.  Another entry in the books.  See ya later.

-5:45 P.M.                         

Thursday, October 20, 2016

I Knew This Would Pay Off After Four and a Half Years!

    The Comedy Class assignment ain't no sketch.  It's a parody!  And by parody, He Doesn't Really Mean Parody!  What he means is, we take something we've read or seen, then do a monologue/riff on it.  I'm already halfway there with the Abbott & Costello bullcrap!  Turns out I'm a Productive.  It's about time.  The good news is What Else Is Going On.  Indians goin' to the world series. I got nothin'.  I should practice monologueing to get into the zone.  Let's see.  The Indians goin' to the world series, how 'bout this, have you heard about this. 
    1)  The only people upset the Indians are doing good are the settlers!  2)  Finally, Cleveland might win a sports championship!  3)  Still no word on if they're American Indians or Regular Indians.  4)  I'm sure a lot of them are feeling the pressure of a big series, so my message to them is to Stay Brave.  5)  Hah, brave.  6)  If the Indians are playing the Cubs, we can assume they'll use all of the baby bear.  7) If the Indians are playing the Dodgers, great, two groups of people Real Americans want nothin' to do with.  8) I know Indians are good at beating drums, but baseball teams?!  9)  If a plastic bag floats onto the field, we can expect the Right Fielder to start crying, right?  10)  Cleveland.  C-- Leave Land.  Funny, that's what the settlers told to the Indians to do in the first place!
    Yeesh.  That reminds me of another bullshit I thought of.  People in the middle of the country are all ancestors of people who were moving to California to start a great new life, and got tired along the way.  That's how we should approach these hicks.  Anyway, what the what.  Last debate last night.  My response was, Whew, Trump is still terrible at this and Clinton is still amazing.  That settles that.  Also, best moderating we've seen.  The good news is what else.  I think it's interesting that Trump is 8 percentage points from being the leader of the free world and the thing he seemed most concerned about last night was that he didn't win an emmy a few years ago because it was rigged.  Perked up at that comment and he was like, Ok, now you've gone too far.
    That's how that goes.  I think it's an atrocity how the facts are rigged against Trump.  How was he supposed to know that would happen.  What else is crap.  I'm surprised Trump isn't re-launching Trump Steaks for the last few weeks of the election.  When the country is at stake, buy some of my steaks.  It's a no brainer.  What else.  Fourth paragraph.  Gotta think of some new Who's On First material.  Hey, Costello's Fat!  Just do 20 jokes on fat people.  That's no good.  Hey, I can utilize the last thing I did to try to think of things.  Okay, Abbott & Costello jokes, take one--  1) Is it just me, or is Costello fat... not a promising start.  Who's on First jokes, take two-- 1)...
    Eh, it'll work itself out.  I got two weeks to do it roughly and whatnot.  I could just pump up the jokes I already have.  Flesh 'em out and whatnot, maybe there's some gold there that I could find.  What else is going on.  I wonder if Abbott lives in fear that Costello might one day eat him.  So stupid.  We like Stupid here at crazysheet.  Still gotta write a poem this weekend.  Possibly by Saturday.  MMaybe people liked Abbott and Costello because it proved once and for all a fat person can be friends with a skinny person, without the skinny person living in fear that the fat person will eat them.
    Very forward thinking, that team was.  If Abbott and Costello were so great, how come they're dead.  These are the issues people want to hear about.  Sixth paragraph.  If I were interviewing Abbott and Costello, I'd go-- Abbott, Costello.  What was meeting Frankenstein really like?  That's how that might go.  Remember that time Abbott threw a girl into a lake.  Who could forget.  Originally said Costello threw the girl into the lake.  Abbott is better.  Costello's fat, we all know we can't trust fat people.  Abbott doing it, though, people would never see it coming!  That's how that might go.
    Jeez.  Crap and crap.  My goal by the end of this assignment is being able to remember which one is which.  I feel like I could probably accomplish that.  I know Abbott and Costello were supposed to be revolutionary, but then how come Costello didn't use a treadmill?  Jeez.  I gotta stop with this crap.  I wonder if Abbott auditioned a dozen skinny people to be his partner and finally found Costello and picked him because he's fat.  I was gonna phrase that better, but who has the time these days.  Not me.  Abbott doesn't have time for that.  He's busy managing his baseball team.
    What else.  Abbott-- So I've been managing a baseball team, and...  Costello-- Oh Yeah?  Well Fuck You.  Scene.  What else is going on and crap.  I'm gonna try to see an advisor before Spring Classes.  Just to get on top of things.  Also, I'm pretty sure every time you visit an advisor, they increase your GPA exponentially.  Seems like they would.  Anyway, it's the weekend.  That's great.  So much things to do.  Lie in bed, get ready to lie in bed, get out of bed.  Hopefully I'll be able to pack it in three and a half days.  What else and crap.  Could get Chinese Food for dinner.  Nobody's stopping me.  Unless it's myself.  I'm my own worst enemy when it comes to getting Chinese Food for dinner.
    Yeesh.  Crap and crap, indeed.  It turns out Root Beer and Vodka is Aces.  Who knew.  Ninth paragraph.  Whatta clunker.  Also, I've been paying taxes for 7 years, and I still haven't received my clunker.  Another empty promise from Our Friend Obama.  What else and shit.  I'm almost sure I got an e-mail from Clinton in the last few days that essentially said We don't really need any more money-- just send some anyway!  Ridiculous.  Now, is it still important to send money to House and Senate races?  Sure.  Could you argue it's still important to send money to Clinton?  Absolutely.  But don't admit in the e-mail you don't need it.  You might need it.  I don't know.  The whole system is rigged against people who nobody wants to support!
    I'm for public funding of elections.  Because that's a thing I heard they do somewhere and it seems like a good idea based on my extremely limited understanding of it.  My impression of it is Here, we're giving you both the same relatively small amount of money.  From the government or something.  Good luck!  That's how that goes.  Probably.  Who knows for sure.  Not me.  I already admitted that.  I can't wait till Trump loses, so all the people he's personally insulted, Democrat, Republican-- we can all laugh our asses off at the big loser.
    My downstairs toilet and the urinals in Queens College are made by the same company.  Bathrooms are rigged.  What else and crap.  Eleventh paragraph.  That's how that go.  Only got a week and a half to memorize that poem I got to memorize.  Time keeps on tickin' away.  What device did they have for approximating a sentence before Mississippi.  I wanna know for both intellectual and practical reasons.  Intellectually, I'm sure they had something, would be interesting to find out what it is.  Practically, I wanna switch over.  I don't want to think about Mississippi anymore than I already have to.  Ya can go 1-1000, 2-1000, I've read on internet and I can verify because I've seen that.  Internet also said you could use the word Elephant.  I'll consider that to be true, no reason not to.   
    What else.  One of the movies I have DVR'd is Pootie Tang.  I'm confident it will be good but it's hard to commit to selecting it for instant viewing.  At least for me.  I know I've seen it before but I don't remember a thing.  Except that he says weird things.  Anyway, crap and crap.  I think it's possible that Trump just saw a sign that said Putin Is Our Friend! and took it at face value.  Trump doesn't seem to have a lot of friends so he'll take what he can get.  Clinton deleted her e-mails!!!  So what, I'm sure 90% of you delete your browser history.  You know, because of porn, and whatnot?  Maybe Clinton was cybersexing and that's her own personal business.  You don't know.
    Anyway, what else.  Of course she didn't cybersex with her state department e-mail.  That would involve some pay-to-play thing which is a phrase I heard and assume I know what it means.  She's cybersexing with some guy, next thing you know, he wants some... uh... government thing.  Money?  Eh, doesn't conclude the joke with the oomph I want.  Weapons?  I don't know what weapons are individually called.  The point is let's just hope she had a safe word.  Sure you need safe words in cybering.  Shows how much you know.
    Crap and crap.  It's possible they stopped using the phrase cyber-sex a decade and a half ago.  Fourteenth paragraph.  So much crap to watch on T.V.  A season and a half of Mr. Larry Sanders Goes To Television.  Other things.  The one thing Trump could have said that I'd be on board with is that The Rap Game is rigged.  Prince of New York should have had that locked up.  He's light years ahead of his adversaries when it comes to rappin' it up.  Maybe he's not the best preformer, but he can learn!  Whatta gip.  Trump thinking everything's rigged, with his privledged background.  I think he just thinks, Only good things are supposed to happen to me, if something bad happens to me, its because it's rigged.
    Because he's a fool.  Crazy fool.  What else.  Fifteenth paragraph.  Which based on recent experience, essentially means the end of the entry, then write five paragraphs of What's Crappening.  We'll see how it plays out today.  Cleveland Indians were the team in Major League.  Probably could have rattled off 2 or 3 pieces of crap based on that.  Oh well, live and learn.  What else and crap.  I bought an umbrella today because it said it was going to rain and I didn't bring one.  Never rained.  That's no good.  I don't have umbrella money that I can spend willy-nilly.  I can't afford to amass so many cheap umbrellas.
    That's no good.  Whatta gip.  The weather is rigged.  Rigged against me.  Why wouldn't it be?  What else and crap.  I feel good about writing five more paragraphs.  I can do it.  Knock it out of the park and whatnot.  I don't know.  My habit has been only writing entries after class.  We'll see how this plays out over the next few days and whatnot.  The point is maybe mix things up for November.  Black font on white background.  Feels like it's been a long time since that nonsense.  Who cares.  Me.  It's formatting.  Formatting is good.  That's how I feel.  I keep checking my Poker Balance, thinking, Well, maybe they just decided to give me money.
    It could happen.  Crap and crap.  What else is crappening.  I don't know.  I don't think there's any Sitcom I watch anymore.  There's a bunch I intuitively assume are good.  But can't bring myself to make such a commitment.  These are the real issues and whatnot.  Seventeenth paragraph.  That's alotta paragraph.  What else is going on.  I don't know, probably crap and stuff.  Watched some Colbert in class today from last night.  I gave an adequate comment based on some thing he asked, but after that, I thought of a great comment but it was too late.  Well, there goes that.  Might as well drop out of the class.
    Three to go.  What else is crackulating.  Do I eat the two chocolate chip pancakes remaining from what I ate last night, or go for Chinese Food which would make me commit to probably three days of Chinese Food.  Also, sure I get chocolate chip pancakes for dinner.  Because I'm an adult.  I'm leanin' towards hopin' two pancakes is enough.  It's the responsible thing to do and whatnot.  I'm all about being a Responsible.  I'm turnin' 28 in less than two months.  Time to be an adult.  Probably.  That's what I've been led to believe, at least.
    Crap.  Crap and Crap.  Crappening Crap.  I don't know.  Penultimate Bullshit.  Anyway.  Gonna take the first step towards writing my poem by looking at the possible prompts tonight.  You know, be industrious and crap?  Why not.  Crap and crap.  Weekend pretty much starting when this entry is finished.  More or less.  So much crap to do.  Think about watching Pootie Tang.  I wanna watch Pootie Tang.  It just seems the time is never right.  We'll figure something out, I'm sure.  What else.  Fifteen or Twenty Larry Sanders Introduces The Larry Sanders Comedy Hour.  That's roughly more than several hours.
    Alright!  We did it yet again.  So proud of myself for didying it.  Knocked it out the park like I always do.  Crap and crap.  Someone said something about a cat to me, and I was like, I used to have a cat.  She was aces.  I miss her.  Oh well, live and learn.  What else is going on.  I don't know.  Professor did end up saying something like we'll have to write a Halloween themed poem.  That's no good.  Unless if I write The Raven Part II: The Raven's Revenge.  Well, that's as good as an idea as I'll ever have.  If we do have to do a Halloween poem, I'm 100% happy with doing The Raven Part II: More Raven More Furious.
    What else.  I have to keep playing poker right now so, at least for now, I'll keep writing entry.  For fun, you know.  That kind of crap.  Give myself some time to really contemplate what getting Chinese food would entail.  And, vice versa, the kind of sacrifices I'd be making by finishing my Chocolate Chip Pancakes.  Anyway.  Who's On First.  Let's think about it.  Weekend.  Who needs 'em.  I like 'em.  But I don't need 'em.  Feel the same way about anti-weekends.  Jeez.  What else and crap.  I don't know.  Last entry was 22 paragraphs.  Before that was 21.  Before that was 20.  Guess I gotta go for 23 paragraphs.  This is what, the 21st?  Two more.
    Wonderful and whatnot.  Should get my guitar fixed.  That's been the theme of my Thursdays since this semester started.  Oh well.  Crap and crap.  I have four poker tables open.  That covers my entire scre-- I can make the windows smaller.  Then I can write here hassle-free!  Whatta ingenuity.  And then increase the size when the entry is over.  Also, keeps me on my toes, makes me want to finish this bullshit sooner.  Everybody wins except for me whose wasting my time with five things.  Alright, busted in one tourny.  I can manage 3 screens and this.  Manage it hardcore.  And the good news is once I'm done I get to lie in bed hardcore.  What else and crap.
    Last paragraph.  That's how we do.  Crap and crap.  Just blanked out for thirty minutes.  What to do with this paragraph.  I don't know.  Poker still going.  Gotta good chance of making a hefty haul of 55 cents.  Just gotta not fuck it up, is all.  Great.  What else.  I don't know.  Just blanked out for another thirty minutes.  Gotta close this up and whatnot.  Let's see.  Words, words.  Nothin' comes to mind.  Who's on first. Why not get the pitchers into this nonsense.  Just blanked out for another 30 minutes.  Well, I got a five minute break from poker, and this paragraph is almost done, and that spells I'm done with this crap for a while.  I'll see ya later.

-7:57 P.M.

Wednesday, October 19, 2016

Frankly, I'm Fantastic At Titles

    That's great, just great.  Third entry in a row, assuming I don't bail within the next two minutes.  Anyway.  Missed the Poetry Professor's reading before class today.  Probably for the best.  If he didn't spend thirty minutes talking about I have this great writer in my class I would have just been disappointed.  The point is great.  I did get a Check ++.  Why ain't there a key for Checks.  Probably because the guy who invented keyboards frankly wasn't so fantastic at anticipating the kind of symbols we're using now in the 21st century and whatnot.  When I went to get a liquor bottle on Monday, I was just checking out the different flavors of Vodka, and the guy there was like If there's a specific thing you want, tell me, I'll put it on order.  That's when you know you have an alcohol problem.  When they're keeping things in stock specifically for you.
    So I said, Nope, I'll be fine with what you got.  This is a great story.  I can't wait to tell my grandkids on their deathbeds.  What else is going on.  Big Debate tonight.  The debate between watching the debate or South Park.  I'm leaning towards This isn't a problem in the 21st century and whatnot.  You know, on account of DVR and whatnot.  That settles that.  Now, Donald Trump participating in the debate is a problem in the 21st century and whatnot.  But the debate... T.V... Tivoing is a brand name that took over a function... South...  Oh my medication.  At what point do we start to sexualize Hillary Clinton.  I don't wanna be the first to bring it up because it's terrible, but it's gonna happen sooner or later whether we like it or not.
    Yeesh.  Or maybe our perverted fantasies will be dissuaded by the good in the world.  Here's hopin'.  I'm sick of looking for palindromes that aren't there.  That's how I feel about that.  We all know Hillary Clinton is full of stamina.  She can go all night, no problem.  Sorry about all that.  I'm gonna write a good, decent entry from here on out.  We'll forget all about my misogyny.  Don't shoot me, I'm just the messenger.  Also, don't shoot anybody.  It's against the law and also from a moral standpoint it's kind of shaky.  Maybe the twenty e-mails I get from Hillary a day are just to accentuate her stamina.  Her asking for money just don't quit!  Well, as long as there's a reason other than Let's Bother People.
    What else is going on and crap.  Wore my Bernie Shirt today.  The more time that passes the more people don't care.  Oh well, live and learn.  You jerk, how would you feel about someone objectifying you.  I don't know.  Only one way to find out.  Objectifying someone else and having karma take care of the rest.  It's a science experiment, see?  Also, I'm a copper, see.  Pretty sure they used to call Pennies Coppers.  Apparently pennies used to be made of copper.  Now they're made out of zinc.  Zinc, I believe, is another word for spunk, or moxie.  That kid's got zinc!  That's me.
    What else and crap.  One more day of the workweek.  Really should try to think of some sketch idea(s).  What if it's like this eight year old kid meets this British guy, and hilarity ensues?  Sounds good to me.  Some American trying to prove he's British to a kid whose having none of it.  Good start.  I like where this is heading.  What else and crap.  Gotta think of a reason for Why.  The good news is I have a solid amoun of hours to let it percolate and whatnot.  Or maybe that's enough.  And then in the 15 minute period we're talking about our ideas in groups I can make other people figure out the why.  I'm too close to the project, I need an outsider's perspective and whatnot.
    Great.  Sixth paragraph.  I still have a Beef Patty from yesterday.  Had to order more than I needed so they would deliver it.  That's fine with me.  Half a beef patty is a great and nutritious snack.  I blew it.  What else.  I don't know.  The next poem I have to write is anything goes.  No prompt.  I'm gonna make up some words.  That's poetry.  I've always wanted to make up words.  Now's my big chance.  The point is what else.  I don't know.  Let's see, words, words.  I'm gonna go out on a limb here and be honest-- I don't find Hillary Clinton attractive.  She's like our mother or grandmother, collectively.  Is nothing sacred?
    Outside QC campus, there were some Pro-Russian people.  Their big poster advocated building the bridge heard round the world, starting in Western Europe, going to Russia, going across to Alaska, to the Eastern US.  You know, the world not including South America and Africa?  Who needs em.  The second biggest poster they had was a picture of Putin that said Putin Is Our Friend!  Well, that settles that.  I'm sold.  And since they saw me checking out their signs, one tried to give me some flyer and I was like Nope!  That's how that goes.  Putin Is Our Friend does bring to mind when I wrote a few weeks ago that we should support Clinton because Obama would be offended if we didn't and that Obama Is Our Friend.  So I guess I see a little bit of myself in these protestors.  Not sure if they were protesting.  One would imagine they had some problems with things and whatnot.
    The good news is That's All Over Now.  Whew.  Eighth paragraph.  That's how We Do.  What else.  I don't know.  So deep into the entry yet so far away from the conclusion.  I need to see an advisor about what classes to take in the Spring.  Great.  Doin' stuff.  My worst enemy.  I know what class to take for the Winter.  Assuming I decide to take a Winter class.  Let's assume.  We may end up being wrong, but Lord knows we put ourselves out there and decided to make a stand when it comes to assuming stuff.  Heroes We Are, and Heroes Will We Forever Be.  You know, that sort of crap. 
    Yeesh.  What else and crap.  Pretty much halfway into the entry.  Memories of insensitivity fading... fading... RISING... fading...  Close enough.  Crap and crap.  No one minds when I'm raggin' on Russia.  And they're our friends! based on what poster said.  Yeesh.  Crap and crap.  This Guy Is Our Friend!  Terrifying.  I don't know.  I don't even know how long this entry will be.  Lots of stuff I don't know.  I can't wait for tonight's debate, which I can only assume will be a mature and enlightening discussion of the issues.  That'll make sure I know stuff.  Mrs. Clinton, polls have shown you're a woman.  How do you respond?  She's tough.  Gotta be.
    Tenth paragraph.  Is saying she's tough even slightly misogynistic, too?  What, a woman can't be tough?  It surprising she doesn't have thin skin?  Probably.  Who can say for sure, though.  Not me.  That's why I write Blogs and not Legitimate Writing.  There's some sort of QC essay writing contest where first place gets 1000$, second place gets 500$ I believe, and third place gets roughly 250$ give or take.  I should enter that.  A thousand dollars could buy me two weeks in a dorm.  That's a lot of days.  A fourteen day stay-cation.  Except not stay.  And not a vacation.  Fourteen days, though, that's for sure, assuming my two weeks was an appropriate estimate. 
    Well, solidly into double digits now in paragraphs.  Sure, ten is a double digit-- 10-- see?  Two of 'em.  But 10 is still more of the completion of the single digits.  On account of there not being zero.  Legitimate Writing!  What else and crap.  For Winter, I can either take a Intro II Philosophy or some sort of American Culture class.  Obviously the second one is easier.  The first one might be more interesting and/or relevant, though.  We'll see how this situation plays out.  I don't know.  What else is crappening.  Election is in less than three weeks.  Gettin' down to the wire.  Will Trump Trump Clinton in the debate and start gettin' some mojo?  Let's hope not.  Me, personally, I don't like Trump.  I'm supporting Hillary Clinton.  I want her to be president instead of Trump.
    That settles that.  I feel like a couple of days ago I thought of some word play involving the word Trump but I can't remember it.  I might just be thinking about parodying Lump.  Yeah that was probably it.  My Comedy Teacher asked us if Weird Al was still a thing.  I don't think he's followed Popular Parody Songs in two decades, that seemed to have been his last exposure to it.  The real unnerving part of it, though?  Most of the class seemed to not know who Weird Al was/is.  Poor children.  My heart goes out to them.  I wonder who Weird Al is supporting in this election.  Weird Al classically is the swing vote for presidential elections.  It's pretty relevant is all I'm sayin'.   
    What else.  Thirteenth paragraph?  Movin' right along.  Crap and crap.   Hmm, apparently I made an error earlier.  I thought we had carte blanche to write any poem we wanted.  Turns out he just meant we have a wide selection of prompts.  I guess that's pretty good, but not what I had in mind.  Any prompt from 49-58.  One would imagine one of those would captivate me and set my Poetic Soul on the journey towards Poetic Greatness.  Also I need to write it by this weekend on account of my mistake of volunteering to go in the first round of the first round of poems we were submitting.  Oh well, live and learn.  The lesson is never volunteer for anything.  That settles that.
    Here we go, new paragraph.  Crap and crap.  I don't know.  This could be fifteen paragraphs.  Or it could be something different.  I've narrowed it down to those two things.  Anyway, let's get writin' with it.  You ever notice how when you're pretending to be British there's always some know-it-all eight year old kid whose doubting you?  What would that entail?  You speaking British phrases to him.  Him not buying it.  You talking about Brexit.  Still doesn't buy it.  More British phrases.  Same result as before.  This practically writes itself! Anyway, what else and crap.
    I don't know.  Apparently the Clinton Team's October Surprise is that they're running against Donald Trump.  Nailed it.  Crap and crap.  I want to do 20 paragraphs.  I need to write more to feel proud of myself.  Even if it's five paragraphs of Wide World of Sports! and What's Crappening.  Every little bit counts, gotta go with the flow.  I don't know.  Check Plus Plus.  If anything, it's disappointing, because it means all those Check Plusses weren't the highest grade.  Here I thought I was being a Brilliant and it turns out I'm your run of the mill B+'r.  I'll never get into their Secret English Club at this rate.  That's why I was lookin' forward to making up some words.  Words woulda been really great.  I make up the best words>
    I don't know.  I have to write more.  It makes me happy even if its crap.  I gotta watch all of the Drunk Historys.  I've seen an episode here and there but now I feel like I'm ready to commit to watching all of them.  I enjoy it because it's humorous.  That's that.  Election.  It would be cool if we got the Senate.  Why, we could Senate It Up like we never Senated Before.  House?  House Party.  There's so much fun to be had and so little time to try to make sure it's gonna be fun by donating.  There, did my part.  Crap and crap.
    Four paragraphs to go.  Let's see, what else and crap.  Gotta buy a Metrocard tomorrow.  What fun.  I get to look at myself on the security camera in the gas station store.  Lookin' Good, Mike!  Except instead of that, Jeez, Lose Some Weight, Mike!  I've lost six pounds this year.  That's pretty good.  At this rate, I'll be healthy-skinny sometime around the year 2162.  It's good to have something to look forward to.  Crap and crap.   
    What else and crap.  Three to go.  Gettin' close.  Real close.  Close.  Whatnot and close.  Three.  Paragraphs to go.  The number three.  And the symbol for paragraphs.  Which inexplicitly is not a special character on the keyboard.  This entry really proved the Keyboard Inventor's ineptitude.  Where does he get off.  Probably somewhere.  Keyboard Inventors Have Needs, Too!  That's how I feel and whatnot.  Crap and crap.  Two paragraphs to go after this one?  I'm in Heaven.  Such a great number of paragraphs, you can't believe it.  I hope Trump has a glass of water tonight.  Wanna see if he still does the weird thing where he blows on it before taking a sip.  Does he know something we don't?  Does blowing on water make it more pure, or something?
    One can only speculate.  At least, at this point in time.  Crap and crap.  My guess for what Trump will blame his poor performance on?  The Podium.  Hillary had a much better podium than mine.  They were exactly the same.  Election is rigged.  That's how that might go.  I don't know.  Penultimate paragraph.  Pen an ultimate paragraph?  Sounds like a challenge.  I'll do it tomorrow or something.  Not up to it right now.  I don't know.  It's almost over.  Then get into the real Meat & Potatoes of my day-- lying in bed.  Wondering where I went wrong.  Couldn't be this entry, I've been wondering where I went wrong for a long, long time.
    Last paragraph!  Alright.  I think the first debate question anyone ever asked Donald Trump, back in the Republican Primary, should have been, Donald Trump.  Are you for real?  I mean, really?  That's how I would have gone, at least.  Still not too late.  Woulda been appropriate at the beginning of this nonsense, but he's still never really answered the question.  We'll see how that plays out.  I don't know.  Crap and crap.  Almost done and whatnot.  I've been drinking Vodka & Diet Root Beer today.  That's great.  It's good to do stuff.  That's how I feel.  I did 21 paragraphs yesterday.  Imma do it again.
    Wonderful.  A paragraph is easy.  Just watch.  Crap and crap, world of sports that's wide.  Anyway, closin' it up.  Just like what doctors do to women after they give birth.  Topical.  Crap and crap.  For a lot of people, Thursday is almost the weekend.  Thursday is the last day of the week I have crap.  Wednesday is almost the weekend for me.  That'll show 'em, that'll show all of 'em.  What else.  Also, I'm not proud of the Check Plus Plus poem at all.  I think it's real crap.  Shows how much I know, right.   That'll show me, show all of me.  What else.  Pancakes for dinner tonight!  Whoever heard of such a thing.  Probably people, and sutff.  I did 21 paragraphs yesterday.  Today-- Goin for 22!
    That's a good number.  It's in a book.  I say, you make a book's title as a number, you're doin' pretty good for youself.  I feel like 22 is also some sort of gun.  A caliber for a gun.  I don't have all the details.  I never read Catch-22.  Just seems to be trying too hard.  Major Major.  Pass.  What else.  I think the reason I have so much acid-reflux is because of drinking.  Firstly based on intuitiveness, then ultimately based on Websites That Say That Could Happen.  Also, that one day I didn't drink I had no problems.  Not drinking was a science experiment, see.  I don't know.  I'll see ya later.

-6:10 P.M. 

Tuesday, October 18, 2016

This Sure Is Made Out Of Words

    That's how I feel.  Got back from Comedy Class.  We have an assignment which is a response paper to some bullshit or crap, but he said, in lieu of that, we can write a 2-3 page sketch in the style of one of the pieces of bullshit or crap that we read.  Comedy!  Time for Michael to Knock It Out Of The Park.  Maybe incorporate one of my stable of characters.  Maybe not.  Who can say for sure.  The point is I have to go to class early tomorrow so I can watch my Professor do a reading.  Pretty sure seeing a reading is a requirement for the class and it don't get much more convinient than it being an hour before class in the same building.  Also, me being there shows him that I'm serious about joining his stable of English Friends. 
    Serious hardcore.  I wonder what kind of prizes they have for people in the audience.  I hope great ones.  I know for sure they hand out 3-D glasses before the show.  The point is what else and crap.  Debate is tomorrow.  One would imagine I had some silly thing to say about that, perhaps even a witticism.  So let's imagine that instead of me having to do it.  A picture is worth a thousand words.  And an imagination has gotta be worth, what, like 5 or 6 thousand?  I bet the guy who came up with A picture is worth a thousand words regrets it later on his life.  He's trying to say a picture is worth way more than words.  A thousand isn't so much.  He's probably thinking, Man, should have gone with a million.  To really get the point across.  I fucked that one up.  I could knock a thousand words out easy.
    Before photographs, they just wrote letters with a thousand words in them, right?  Seems equivalent assuming certain 1000 word catchphrase makers are right.  Also, are you allowed to repeat the same words?  Or does it have to be 1000 unique words.  Let's get our best and brightest working on that one.  Said that phrase last entry and I'm runnin' with it.  That's how I feel.  The good news is I found a carton of Newports I didn't know I had last night.  Was runnin' low, found it on the floor, said a prayer to God for yet another glorious bounty of cigarettes, and moved on with my life.  Watched Encino Man for the first time in a while last night.  I think it's implied to more mature audiences they get high all the time, especially Pauly Shore, but they don't explicitly say it, so they're not corrupting our youth.  The clues are there, though, if you're looking for them.   
    Real issues.  What else and crap.  I used to think the convenience store clerks were really angry at Pauly Shore for wheezing the juice, but earlier in the scene, he gets along with them pretty well.  I don't think they would flip on him just like that.  Sure, they don't want him to wheeze the juice, and are upset about it, but in the end they're still friends.  Anyway.  Lotta plot holes in that movie.  I've talked about some of them previously here or the .com.  Sean Astin's entire plan in the movie is-- if we're friends with a caveman, it will make us popular!  Stupid enough, right?  But then, throughout the movie, they're trying to hide that he's a caveman.  Make up your melons.
    The point is great.  Gotta write some stupid sort of a poem tomorrow.  It's hard to knock these out of the park when the prompts are crap.  Anyway, what else.  I don't know.  I always take a Ritalin before class and I used to do it real discrete like, see?  Now, who cares.  I'm taking a pill.  Maybe taking pills is cool, you ever thought about that?  No?  Time to start thinking about it.  At least for two or three seconds.  Just consider it, please!  That's all I'm asking!  I don't know.  What The Hell am I gonna do when this is over.  I've been thinking about it.  We'll see how this plays out.  Crap and crap.  Trump is down to 8% on the Night Imes for winning the presidency.  I've seen people hit two outers before, though.  It happens.
    So let's stay scared and agitated!  No reason not to.  Two of my favorite things.  Other than Wheezing The Juice.  Anyway, what else and crap.  Oh, I know.  Picture of Ricky Gervais and Warwick Davis saying Say Hello To My Little Friend.  That's what they call themselves.  Little people.  If it were just offensive, that's not funny at all.  Little friend, that's a phrase he can say with a smile on without it being in poor taste.  Please believe me!  Anyway, what else.  Warwick Davis is gonna be in a new Star Wars.  Based on his recent roles, I can only assume he's playing a fictional version of himself.  How Did I Get Here Back In Time And In A Galaxy Far Far Away?!  Better Skype With Stephen Merchant To Start Figuring Things Out!
    Great.  Somewhat sure I did that riff a year or two ago.  Well, if yu can even call it a riff.  Call it whatever you want.  I'm here to facilitate your imagination, not mine.  Gonna get some Beef Patties tonight for dinner.  Prove me wrong!  The point is what else and crap.  Seventh paragraph.  Italics!  We did it.  I don't mean to be insensitive, but if there was a real leprechaun in today's modern age, Warwick Davis would almost certainly be his name.  Maybe I'm just thinking that because he did such a great job in that movie I can't separate him from the character.  Could be.  Most likely though, I'm in insensitive moron.  Or a Moronic Insentivityist.  I like that better.  Warwick.  War, because he's a leprechaun.  Wick, because it's candles.  Candles are leprechauns.  Makes sense to me.
    I don't get the Disney attraction It's a Small World After all.  You keep showing me small people and things.  Makes me feel big.  I belong to the big world, after all.  Get it together, Disney.  What else.  Also, was there anyone debating in the mid 20th century whether it was a big or small world.  It's a small world after all.  After all what?  Was there some sort of conversation going on within our society about... eh... I don't wanna finish this.  What else and crap.  Pluto, that's a small world after all.  Stopped being a world for a few years.  Now I believe it is again.  It's a small world, after all.  Now that makes sense.  What else.  Goofy.  Pluto.  Disney.  All comin' together. 
    We listened to some Mel Blanc radio show in Comedy Class today.  He was doin' some Porky The Pig.  How about that.  Ninth paragraph.  That's how we do.  We also watched some Groucho Marx/Marx Brothers.  Great.  I'd never really seen any before but it holds up beautifully.  A lot of wordplay, too.  I like wordplay!  I'd like to think so.  One note, though-- I got a problem with his moustache.  Gotta tell the truth here, that's all.  Also watched the entire Whose On First routine.  I don't find if funny as much as I do impressive.  They memorized that, word for word, they wrote it out so it makes perfect sense, they have good comedic timing.  Impressive, for sure.  Funny?  Eh.
    Anyway.  What's on first.  He's on second.  You numskull, I'm gonna punch you in the gut!  That's how my version might have gone.  What else.  I didn't like the lead in, though.  All these baseball players these days, they got weird names!  No they don't.  Stop lying.  You know I manage a baseball team... No you don't.  Stop lying.  I don't understand your confusion at these names!  Of course you would.  You could clarify the entire lineup in five seconds.  Also, why do you have to manage it.  We know you're a comedian.  You don't manage baseball teams.  Why can't you just say, I happened to see some minor league team, they were great... I got a lot of notes for this one. 
    Anyway.  Now all I have to do is write a Marx Brothers level sketch within two weeks.  Two weeks?!  That's thirteen days more than I need!  Why, I could watch a movie in real time about the Cuba Thing in that amount of time.  Movie in real time.  That's two hours.  You get the picture.  What else is going on.  Some cute girls in this class.  If I could knock a sketch out of the park, who knows.  You never know.  Eleventh paragraph.  Alright!  Ha, last entry, Consume her heat with my feelings.  If there's ever a clip show of crazysheet, gotta make sure that winds up in there.  My website, I make the rules.  Listened to some Lucille Ball radio show.  I understand that at the time it was cutting edge, and now it's been done to death.  I understand that.  Stop saying I don't understand things!
    Comedy Class finally starting to pay off.  Things that I actually have an interest in.  Not like That One Time Edgar Allen Poe Tried To Be Funny.  Also I like to laugh at the Professor's ineptitude to use the computer/hook it up to the projector.  It makes me happy.  But I don't like the wasted class time.  C'mon, these are ten minutes I could be making comments and forcing people to listen to them!  Let's get with the program.  Supposed to come into class on Thursday with an idea of what we want to do for our paper/sketch.  Gotta think of a sketch by Thursday!  Multiple ideas would be even better.  We'll see how this plays out and whatnot.  The good news is What Else.  Hollow Man has a guy who is essentially Paul Giamatti but not quite.  Lemme look up his name.  Joey Slotnick.  Good for him.
    What else and crap.  I remember that one time I was gonna be a rapper we rented Hollow Man and watched it after realizing we weren't gonna be rapping it up all night.  Then the next day I lent some kid 20 dollars and never got it back.  Imagine, I'd have twenty dollars more right now than I would have if I had just gotten it back!  Anyway.  October is flying by.  Why, I can remember a time it was still September.  Crazy, I know?  Probably.  Especially when I'm talking to me.  I know, I know.  Huh.  The point is what else is going on.  I don't know who to root for between the Indians and the Blue Jays.  I don't know either team at all.  The Indians almost have it locked up, though.  All I know is that I'm rooting for The Cubs, and if they don't make the world series, I'll be rooting for the American League.
    That's all I know.  I literally don't know anything else that's not some sort of knowledge contained in that phrase.  Yeesh.  Fourteenth paragraph.  Probably aiming for 20 again.  Whose gonna stop me.  Remember the time there were big blockbuster movies that weren't Super Hero movies?  It was a simpler time when I was a kid.  Or based on some book for Teenagers?  I guess we got that going on too these days.  Why can't Money Train be a franchise.  Woody Harrelson and Wesley Snipes find another money train, thousands of miles away, and get involved in that train's business.  These are the issues and whatnot.
    Six ta go.  Alright!  The good news is what else.  The good news is I can quit after this paragraph.  I wouldn't do that to you, though.  Not after all we've been through.  Crap and crap.  I don't know.  Gettin' relatively deep into a freeroll.  With the potential of making 55 cents!  You know what that means.  Sixty four cents.  Let's get The Beatles on the phone.  Because that number is in one of their songs.  Talk about relevant.  What to watch tonight.  I've got Bulletproof Monk que-ed up.  A second thing.  Escape From New York.  A fourth thing I believe.  The point is I got a lot going on in my life and sometimes it's hard to keep track of it all.
    What else.  I don't know.  We'll see and crap.  Five paragraphs isn't that much.  I've already done three of those.  Crap and crap.  Let's see.  Sketch Idea by Thursday.  I've never written a sketch.  Unless you count Cart People.  Which I don't know why you wouldn't.  Let's count it, I'm pro-counting-it.  The good news is though four and a half paragraphs.  I like writing crap.  I should be happy I get to write four and a half paragraphs.  I should be having the time of my life.  Anyway.  I don't know.  What about a sketch where someone's on first.  I don't have all the details worked out but I think that's a decent start.
    Great.  Who knows what kinda pills I'm poppin'.  Could be cholesterol.  Could be a placebo.  Could be a Ritalin.  The point is it opens the imagination of my classmates and any time I can facilitate some deep thinking among my peers I consider that a good deed done.  That's how that goes for some reason.  What else and crap.  I think when I used to watch Encino Man I didn't really pick up on the sound Pauly Shore and later Brendan Frasier makes when they wiggle their fingers.  Like, I remember hearing it, but my way of processing it was I guess that's the noise that's made by doing that.  Now I realize it was all special effects.  The real question now is Why.
    The real question is three more paragraphs to go.  And Why.  What else is going on and crap.  I don't know.  iHave I talked about Bus Strategy lately.  I don't think so.  Do I have any new insights into Bus Strategy.  I don't think so.  Yeesh.  Who would have thought writing three blobs of words would be so difficult.  Especially since I just did a whole bunch of blobs of words just recently.  I don't know.  I gotta come up with some Cart People genius for this assignment.  Cute Girls' respect and admiration and sexual attractingiveness to me is on the line!  The good news is who cares.  I do.  But other than me, I mean.  I'I'll make 'em care, I'll make 'em all care.
    Two paragraphs to go!  That's practically one.  Anyway.  Poem for tomorrow.  Sketch Idea for Thursday.  Where do Classes get off.  The poem for tomorrow is a Ransom Note.  Cut out parts of newspapers or something to say something or something.  That's no good.  I'm pretty sure putting together phrases from words from a newspaper puts me on some sort of terrorist watchlist.  Also, cutting words out from my computer monitor seems like a real hassle.  Also, if I make it good, people will respect me.  Makes more sense than being friends with a caveman making people respect me.  The point is Sean Astin is short.  That's why people don't respect him.  Also, his character in Encino Man?  Kind of a Dweeb.
    Yay!  Last paragraph.  Poker is great because it gave me a social life in high school.  I wasn't Dr. Popular De La Prom King, but I sure had half a dozen friends.  And people might not have come to my house for some reason because I somehow had a pool for some reason after prom for some reason, but I did okay for myself.  You know, bullshit and crap?  I don't know.  The point is I'm so close to being done I can smell it.  I shold print out two copies of the poems we need to workshop for tomorrow, so I can give one copy each to the Elderly Lady who sits next to me, to show I'm an industrious and thoughtful lover.  Probably.  I feel like I need one more paragraph.
    Good news is once it's done, it's All Done.  All Done hardcore.  The good news is What Else And Crap.  Not a lot of people committing ransom these days.  At least we don't hear about it in The Rigged Media.  Wouldn't be surprised if Trump's October Surprise is the Hillary Clinton is a kidnapper.  Prove me wrong!  What else.  I'm gonna be an industrious and thoughtful student and write my poem tonight.  Really Knock It Out Of The Park.  You know, for respect?  I don't know.  What else.  Found out a classmate got a 20/20 on the Comedy Class Test who also didn't prepare.  And he also said Excellent to one of her paragraphs.  Well, there goes that.  Why even bother.  I'll see ya later.

-6:13 P.M.
   

Monday, October 17, 2016

I Have Upwards Of One Thing Planned For This Entry

     1)-- Is this Trump out of my head I think so.
    2)-- When I climax, I exclaim, Momma Mia!

    That'sa spicy pizza pie.  I've been awake for Hella long.  I got up at eight.  That's practically eight thirty.  That's a long time to be conscious.  No matter which way you slice it.  Slice it into eighths.  Eighths thirtieths.  It's all coming together!  Thank God.  What's going on and crap.  I didn't drink at all yesterday.  As of now, it's been over forty hours since my last drink.  Time to celebrate my sobriety with a drink!  Wouldn't have it any other way.  In Poetry, each class he gives us a one minute prompt and we just talk to the person next to us about whatever the topic is.  Today it was, What do you do when you get angry.  I don't get angry.  I have three modes-- Upset, Slightly Less Upset, and More Or Less Upset.  Anger don't come into the equation at all, I'm happy to say friends.
    Sure I'm happy to say friends.  It's a great word.  I get a lot of pleasure out of saying words.  The good news is what else is going on.  Let's forget about that crappy crap in the first paragraph.  Now let's get to the real issues.  I'm sick of SoundCloud saying I have some sort of update, like a new follower or a private message, and there's nothing new.  This happens like every three weeks.  Something weird is going on there and I'm gonna get to the bottom of it.  In the meantime, though, lets start prepping for that.  I gotta carefully plan my approach to get to the bottom of things.  Don't know what that means.  Not one bit.
    The good news is Too Fuckin' Bad, you're already two paragraphs into this.  Pot committed at this point.  Before my class started, I got there really early, and they were having a conference of some sort, and basically it was all my past English teachers over the last two years in the same room.  One acknowledged me on the way out, and I was like I HAVE CLASS HERE, I'M NOT DOING RECONNAISSANCE.  And they were like, Oh that Michael, let's invite him into our SuperGroup of English Friends.  Speaking of English, I'm well deep into the concoction of a new character whose British.  Jolly Good, Then.  That's as far as I got for now.
    So far I have two characters.  Bright Eight Year Old and English Man.  Gotta start somewhere.  Except if you never plan on doing characters for an audience.  Then take a load off and forget it.  Not needed.  No reason to exert excess brainpower.  The good news is What Else.  I need to start taking my next few poems seriously.  There's only so many poems one can write with the theme being I'm a Jerk Off until it gets stale.  The good news is Tomorrow I get to do something for the second straight day in a row.  Pretty inconcievable, but thems the facts.  Honestly, if I was good enough that my teachers would welcome me into their English Club that I know for sure they definitely have, I'd be thrilled.  The flipside of that is I'm not good enough.
    Also, no work ethic to get better!  See You In Hell writing career!  I guess I could just write a book I'm a Jerkoff.  Sounds too reminiscent of Portnoy's Complaint.  Hey, I have a complaint.  What The Hell is a Portnoy?  Let's get some of our best and brightest working on that one.  I do know that Tropic I Port is a palindrome.  That goes without saying.  What else.  First drink in almost two days---  I don't know why I would build it up as if you're gonna see it or hear it.  I'I'll make damn well sure you'll read about it, though.  After the fact.  Still haven't done it.  Here I go!  Are you pumped or what.  This is it!  Almost now!  Just grabbed the glass, had to update you.  Ok, now gotta start from square one again.
    I did it.  We can all move on with our lives.  Sixth paragraph.  My brother was here yesterday and my Mom was saying something like he needs to get a warm coat, or a winter coat, some sort of coat with a qualifying adjective.  And I was like, That would make a good Seinfeld episode.  The Warm Coat.  Sounds like cooking or something, now that I think about it.  I don't have all the details.  I got to get my guitar fixed again.  It didn't get fixed and then break since our last time together.  I just mean, again, I still need to get it fixed.  It's English you jerk offs.  I speak English Mum, Tally Ho.  Character showing up!  You never know what you're gonna get with me.  I'm a regular William Roberts.
    Is it possible that Mork was his real name and he was so embarrassed he changed it to Robin Williams?  My thoughts?  Almost definitely.  At least it didn't turn out that I didn't have class today and was just outside the room for no reason.  That woulda looked bad.  They'd have called Campus Security.  I'm a shady looking guy is the point.  That's why I write comedy.  No one finds clowns scary!  Except for everybody.  Except for everybody.  What else is going on and crap.  Also, no ones scared of me.  They're just Somethin's Off With This One.  That's about it and whatnot.  I have mixed feelings about 50 year old woman in my class.  We were sitting next to each other, sharing printed out workshop poems, and I felt her heat and consumed it with my feelings.  On the other hand, she could be my mother.
    She probably is my mother.  I'll hold out saying assuredly she is until the test results come back, but I think it's a reasonable assumption to take.  I don't know.  What else and crap.  Eighth paragraph.  Starting drinking was relatively anti-climactic.  Picturing screwing my adopted mother may very well be anti-climax-tic.  Because of words and things?  You get it.  There's gonna be a new poem due Wednesday.  Gotta knock it out of the park.  You know, for some reason, and whatnot?  Jeez.  I'm sick of e-mails from campaigns saying something like this latest one which I'll use as the example, Hillary's organization saying, "Re: why I'm coming to you personally."  I'm pretty sure you don't know what the word personally is.  It's the opposite of what's going on. 
    And I double checked the e-mail, maybe she meant she was being personal in sending the e-mail.  Nope.  Signed by someone else.  The point is LIAR.  Could this be a deciding issue in the upcoming election?  I don't see why not.  Is Trump fast asleep or rocking out with the band.  You know, because of rhyming?  Give it some time, you'll get it.  Too bad Weird Al blew his load doing Gump.  He coulda come out with a real appropriate novelty song.  You know, like Eminem's Mosh for 2004?  That'll learn him.  Any songs that rhyme with Hillary and/or Clinton?  Oh, I know-- The Electric Slide.   
    Well, I accomplished all I wanted to accomplish with that paragraph.  I realized I might have been somewhat insensitive in a previous entry where I said I was lucky to be American, White, and a Man.  I'm not saying Americans or Whites or Men are better than anybody else.  I just meant to call to attention that we're, let's say, more privileged.  Because society is stupid.  That's how I feel about that.  Tenth paragraph.  I keep reloading the Assignments page in the Poetry section on the Online Service for classes.  Wonder what the prompt will be!!!  And now I have that extra motivation to join the teacher's secret club.  Anyway.  They are called The Presidents of The United States of America.  A little foreboding, eh?  That's why I'm supporting A Cover of Video Killed The Radio Star for this election cycle.
    That's how that goes for some reason.  Who can say for sure.  Not I.  Whatsit, Monday?  That's been going on for a really long time.  At least since eight o clock.  I've got a hunch even for a few hours before that, too.  I can sure taste the alcohol more after a little vacation.  Great.  It's like soda but with a kick!  The kick is alcohol.  Soda is still soda.  Rest of the words what you'd expect them to be.  I don't know.  Crap and crap.  Baseball still going on.  I'm rooting for Baseball To End.  At Least For This Season.  If it never ends, we never get to get another chance in some future season (Hopefully 2017).
    Jeez.  The Crap is sure piling up.  What else and whatnot.  When I finally get my guitar fixed, I'm gonna have him increase the tension of the strings.  I'm assuming that's what's prevented me from being great at guitar.  Not the other 98% of it.  Must be the light strings.  I don't even know if string tension is the right way to put it.  I spent upwards of twenty seconds looking online because I don't wanna sound like an idiot, but I gave up.  Partly because I sound like an idiot pretty often so it won't come as a shock to you.  I was thinking moving from light to medium, but why not go all out and get the thing after medi-- heavy.  Thanks Intranet.
    Crap and craptitude.  I thought of a band name on my walk home today but I forget it.  Well, there goes that.  It turns out the Light strings I've been using are actually in the middle.  There's Extra Stupid, that is, errr, Extra Super Light, and Super Light.  Time to move on with my life, though.  Light is for beer and novelty Eminem songs.  Lighters isn't a novelty song.  It's straight up great.  Well, so was Mosh.  I'm being sarcastic you dolts.  What was I talking about.  Heavy strings.  That's probably why I can't do solos.  The strings.  One would imagine, probably, right? 
    What else and bullshit.  Fourteenth paragraph.  Feels like a 20'r.  I'm callin' it.  I was watching Election: The Movie a few days ago.  The Matthew Broderick Vehicle.  That's a weird fuckin' movie.  I don't know what to make of it.  Pretty funny but overall just really depressing.  Anyway, what else and crap.  Let's see, bullshit and bullshit.  I just realized today Lump is about brain cancer.  I thought Lump was just this chick's name and she does things that the song says.  Nothin' gets past me.  We were workshopping a poem about a tree in class today and after 20 minutes talking about it she responded it's about sexual assault.  Woah!  Didn't see that one coming.  In retrospect, though, I get it.  Well done.
    What else is well done and crap.  I was watching Hollow Man last night.  Didn't like how it ended.  Sure, it drove Kevin Bacon mad and he raped someone.  I figure, though, he gets a few rapes out of his system, realizes, I can be a legit super hero.  Crosses over to the side of law and order.  If you just gave him another two weeks he woulda made that leap, I'm confident of it.  These are the real issues.  Fifteenth paragraph.  Gotta keep a running tally.  Otherwise I'll get confused!  Yeesh.  Whatta do with the rest of my day.  So many options.  I could lie down for forty minutes, get up to do something.  Lie down for fifty minutes, get up and do something.  I'll keep my options open for now.
    Yeesh.  I got to recite a poem from memory two weeks from today.  I got a good one.  Real quality poem.  My people are telling me this poem is gonna be huge.  Man, I can't wait for the day that Donald Trump is a totally powerless and non-threatening punch line.  It's gonna be great.  Are we at that point already?  Nope.  Gettin' there, though.  Sure are.  The point is what else and bullshit.  Four and a half to go.  I can knock that crap out of the park.  I already have a band name.  I don't need to think of a new one.  Yeah, but I want a better one.  That's logic, that's all that is.
    What else.  Besides, what I have isn't a band.  I could just go with the logic that it's what I call myself as a band.  If I ever form a band with other people, that wipes the slate clean.  Start from scratch.  The good news is what's the point of the last five paragraphs.  To kill time and crap.  Get on board, c'mon.  What else.  Seventeenth paragraph.  We did it!  Except for the next three and a half paragraphs.  We didn't did it yet.  What else.  Eatin' dinner in 30-40 minutes.  Hopefully the entry will be done by then.  I don't need that kind of interruption in an entry.  It'll throw everything out of whack.  That's no good.  Braggin' about making The Deans List to my therapists.  I maI made the Deans List!  That's nice.  How do you get to school?  I take the bus.  Wow!  Good for you!
    That's how that might have gone hypothetically.  Hopefully the Dean isn't a Richard Nixon-type and the list is of all his enemies.  That would ruin everything.  Pretty much.  What else.  It's relatively plausible I come up with some funny in these last three paragraphs.  It wouldn't be too out of the ordinary.  Let's see, crap and crap.  I don't know.  What else and crap is going on in the wide world of sports.  We covered how Baseball Better End.  That's all I can come up with. 
    Two to go.  Two to go.  Halloween directly coinciding with the date I need to recite a poem.  Shold make it Horror-themed.  Does "Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice" count as a poem?  One would assume so but you never know.  I still have nine cents in my Poker Bank Account.  That's a positive.  That means if I ever get any money on there I'll have nine extra cents.  That's four and a half big blinds at the good ol' .01/.02 cent tables.  Really .01/.02 dollar tables.  Let's get mathin' with it.  Jeez, the end is in sight!  'Bout time. 
    Alright, here we go.  My birthday is on the same week-day as Halloween.  Looks like a Monday this year.  Good to know these things in advance.  Like when I'm planning my big surprise party, Better make it a Sunday.  That way I'll be more surprised.  What else.  Whattado with the rest of the day.  One would imagine there'll be some T.V. watching in there.  Might even turn out to be the main activity when all is said and done.  I wrote a poem about the Mona Lisa and the premise was she was ugly, but hte more I look at the picture, the more and more she turns me on.  I guess that's the age-old mystery and whatnot.  See ya later.

-6:17 P.M.     

Thursday, October 13, 2016

Excellent!  Party Time!

    Hi friends and whatnot.  Been a week since the last entry.  Had my one class today.  Got back a result on the test we had-- 20/20!  Points.  Not eye sight.  Or the year a few years from now.  Or a One on the test.  I guess I knocked it out of the park, what can I say.  He wrote Excellent next to one paragraph.  Don't you know this is bullshit?  I never did the reading and am talking out of my ass?  Maybe that's why he liked it.  He has a twisted sense of humor from all these years of talking about comedy and satire having driven him insane.  He wants me to feel real good about how I did on that test because it gives him some sadistic pleasure to know I'm misinformed about something.
    Stupid teachers, I hate them so much.  I said something that got a laugh in the class but I forget what it was.  Oh well.  Real crapstorm for the Republican Party.  Well, that's what you get when you nominate King Shit of Fuck Mountain to be president.  Serves you right.  Anyway, I don't know.  What else and crap.  My Mom was like, I hope you don't say anything about me on your website.  Of course not.  Except for that.  And that.  And this.  And this again.  That.  Here.  Now.  This.  It's like that scientific principle that by observing something it changes it.  By observing I don't talk about my Mom I unwittingly said something about my Mom.  Also, I'm sure I've said other crap about My Mom.  There was the joke where she either didn't know there were channels other than MSNBC or that she didn't know how to change the channel.  That comes to mind because I wrote it like a week ago.
    Remember that joke?  Oh, how we all laughed.  It was a real bonding experience between me and my computer.  Crap and crap.  Middle of October.  It's about time.  I'm so sick of that beginning of October crap.  Who needs it.  Have to write Two Poems and Revise Last Poem and Write a response paper to a real poem by Monday.  Good time to put into practice Operation: Don't Put It All Off To The Last Minute.  We'll see how that goes.  Anyway.  My Bed collapsed.  Something went screwy and now the middle of the mattress/bed is sunken.  You know what?  Like it better this way.  That'll show my Bed for trying to trip me up.  I welcome the physical distortion!  Gimme more!
    Stupid bed.  That's how I feel and whatnot.  Got a new Metrocard today.  That'll show the bus, that'll show all of 'em.  Am I overusing that now?  Probably.  Who knows for sure.  Crap, I'm about to bust in this freeroll I'm in.  I need a secondary activity to compliment writing this crap.  Oh well.  Hey, tripled up!  That'll show... eh.  I've gotten in the habit of getting a bottle of soda from Dunkin Donuts.  I'm there to get an iced coffee, but part of me goes, I don't wanna go through the hassle of explaining exactly what I want.  And then waiting for it.  Let's take the easy way out.  That's how I roll.
    Probably.  Who can say for sure.  What the Hell did I say that got a laugh.  I don't get a lot of laughs in this class.  Musta been real great.  Fifth paragraph and whatnot.  Gotta knock these poems out of the park.  I've put myself into a corner, with all my great poems, that my teacher and peers respect me-- almost too much-- that anything other than A Brilliant would be a let down.  Oh well, live and learn.  Next Debate is in Las Vegas.  We all know how the saying goes-  What happens in Vegas, is a precursor to what will decide the next American Presidential Election.  Oh well, live and learn.
    Crap and crap.  Two more seasons of Larry Sanders And The 8G Band to go.  My guess?  He's gonna continue to host talk shows.  Watched some of The Mummy Presents: Chinese Mummy Thing last night.  My thoughts on how they worked on that franchise-- Let's make each movie progressively worse for some reason.  Now, if only I could figure out the reason.  I don't know.  Maybe the crap i wrote for the test just happened to be in the sweet zone of the kind of crap he likes.  I got lucky.  Well, I just busted in the freeroll.  Just in time to enter the next freeroll.  Everything's coming up Michael.  I'm thinking about putting another album on theuppers.bandcamp.com full of acoustic rejects.
    God knows I have enough.  Of course he does, he knows everything.  Yeah, but he really knows this.  Yesterday was Yom Kippur.  My line of preying/atoning was, C'mon, I don't know.  I'm entertaining the possibility there's a God.  Isn't that enough?  Then he goes, You mocked the guy saying to fear me.  Time for you to Go To Hell.  That would be terrible.  I hear some really nasty things about Hell.  My people have told me it's not a desirable place to be.  Anyway.  I got a new wallet two weeks ago and I still have yet to transfer Old Wallet Paraphernalia to New Wallet.  That's a 90 seconds I just don't have.
    I guess I could watch the 25/50$ ring game.  Look at 'em!  Spending real money and whatnot.  I wish I had some of that money!  Real triumph of the human experience and whatnot.  Huh.  Crap and crap.  Eighth paragraph.  I got a Metrocard today.  Real triumph of the human experience.  Poems have to be based on a photograph.  That's no good.  I don't know why.  I just know I don't like it.  Anyway.  I guess I can watch Jurassic Park: The Lost World.  I forget who wins.  Dinosaurs or Humans.  Also, if Raptors are so smart, why can't we just reason with them to not eat us.  Hey, if we just get on the same side, we can arrange for you to have all the dino-meat you want.  We can accomplish more as a team. #StrongerTogether.
    That's how that goes.  Lots of fun stuff you can do with that.  A picture of Jerry Seinfeld and Wayne Knight shaking hands, with the text Stronger Together.  A third thing.  A fourth thing.  A fifth thing.  Stuff like that, you know.  At the beginning of the next debate, when they both come out on the stage, Hillary Clinton should go to Trump, Helllo Newman.  No reason not to.  Not that I can think of.  Anyway.  What else and crap.  I was thinking about the movie Jaws recently.  Jaws.  Jews.  Wonder if there's something there.  One would imagine almost definitely.  What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas.  I hope they're talking about Trump.  It's the perfect plan.  Lure him into Vegas, then he can't leave.  I learned about it from an advertising campaign.
    Don't know.  Just don't know.  Woman from Las Vegas comes out against Trump, saying he sexually assaulted her.  He goes, Hey, I thought what happened in Vegas stayed in Vegas!  I'm going to sue the Nevada Board of Tourism!  Well, he's got us there.  What else and crap.  What happens to a woman's body stays in the woman's body.  Argument for anti-abortionist folks.  Tenth paragraph.  Feels like a 15'r, don't it.  Probably.  Crap and crap.  Watched some Vaudeville today.  Vaudeville--> Radio.  Radio--> Television.  Television--> Pornographies.  The evolution of art in America.
    What else and crap.  I don't know why I get anchovies half the time I get pizza.  It always seems like a good idea at first, but whenever I get it, and this has happened dozens of times in a row, I don't like this.  I'd rather just eat it plain.  I never learn, though, do I.  Definition of insanity.  But it seemed like such a good idea at first!  When will Michael ever learn.  Maybe when he meets God and God goes, You really shoulda feared me.  You messed up big time.  There's still time to realize the err of my ways.  I do fear God.  I fear that his priority is that we fear him.  That's a scary kind of God.  Better fear him.
    Yeah.  Twelfth paragraph.  I was reading an article Obama wrote for some technology/science magazine and he was like It's a great time to be alive!  I've had that thought before.  Lots of crazy crap going on all around us, it's madness.  Another similar thought is I'm a white man born in America.  Really hit the jackpot there, too.  That's how I feel and whatnot.  Pretty much any crappy thing can happen in my life and I'm still playing with House Money.  Anyway, what else and crap.  Three paragraphs and change.  Almost did't it.  Plus, I've got my own Website.  Does it get much better?
    Let's hope so!  Yeesh.  I am 5'2.  That's unlucky.  But I'm 6'6 in brain power.  That's good!  I'm Jewish-- that's a wash.  More or less.  I live in the upper middle middle class.  That's good.  I live in New York.  That's one of the best places ever.  The point is what else is going on.  I have a sunken bed.  That's a six out of ten.  Jeez.  All in all, though, what else is going on.  Two and a half paragraphs worth of crap, I'm betting.  Anyway.  I got Cool Ranch Doritos like a chump.  Figured I'd mix things up from getting Nacho Cheese Doritos.  Boy, was I wrong.  I remember liking them just fine as a kid, but now, no good.  I guess our taste buds have all got to grow up at some time.
    The good news is two more paragraphs.  I don't know.  Whattado after this is done.  Probably some bullshit and crap.  Watched Mystery Men last night.  That's a pretty good movie.  I liked the parts where stuff happens.  A little disappointed Rey Mysterio wasn't in it, but oh well.  I'm not a fan of how everyone ironically likes Ken Bone.  Get a life you morons.  Besides, he wasn't even the best undecided voter on the stage there.  There was a guy even fatter than him who I took an immediately liking to.  That guy should be the thing, not this guy.  My Dad went, He must be the 400 pound guy Trump was talking about.  He hacked his way onto the debate stage!  This guy's more than 400 pounds.  Donald Trump did him a solid by underselling his weight. 
    Great.  I can write more paragraphs after this.  We'll see how it goes.  Probably not.  But that means I have to do something else.  I don't have something else to do.  Oh well.  Anyway.  Just blanked out for twenty minutes.  Gotta finish this crap and whatnot.  Crap and crap.  What else and crap.  Poems to write about photographs.  Whatta snooze.  I can't write about the time I filmed myself jerking off when I was 15.  That's a moving-picture.  Can I write about a stickman?  That's like a moving-picture but just a rapid amount of photographs.  And by photographs I mean drawings.  And by drawings, that's what I mean.  I mean drawings.
    Okay, one more paragraph.  That should do it.  There's a good picture of my Dad and my brother as a baby.  It's a really good photo.  But that's not me, that's my brother.  Who gives a fig.  I wish it were me, I hate my brother so much.  What else and crap.  I can write about the time I wrote Happy Birthday on my face and posted it to Facebook.  You know, to celebrate my birthday?  If you know a better way to celebrate your birthday, I'd like to hear it and whatnot.  I could write about the time I photo-shopped a Kitty between the Twin Towers and added the text Hang In There.  Not sure why I would do that.  Anyway, crap and crap.  One more paragraph.
    You know, cause these paragraphs are all great?  That sort of bullshit.  Alright, last paragraph.  Here we go.  Let's do it.  I wouldn't mind writing a poem watching my 15 year old self jacking off.  Don't have the tape, though.  There goes that idea.  What else and crap.  It's commonly known that the male sex drive peaks when you're 15, and video taping yourself.  What else and crap.  Gettin' deep into the freeroll I previously reported that I was almost busto.  At this rate, I have a one in three chance of making 55 cents!  It's about time.  I can use the Hindenburg Photo.  First thing that came to mind.  And this has been in my mind for days.  About time a first thing came to mind.      
    Three paragraphs to go to get to twenty.  And I'm stuck here playing poker anyway.  Let's keep it goin'.  What else and crap.  You know what else and crap is going on?  Let me know while I'm here, in the past, compared to you reading this.  Gimme some sort of clue.  What else and crap.  100% and a free sheet of looseleaf paper out of the deal?  I call that a great experience.  Great triumph of the human experience.  I don't know.  What else and crap.  What Else And Crap has been the theme of the last several paragraphs.  Serves you right for reading this crap. 
    Yeesh.  Two to go!  That's good.  I did it.  Almost.  Great.  Wonderful.  Brilliant, that goes without saying.  Even thought I said it.  And if I didn't say it you would be unaware of it.  That's how that goes.  I feel bad about making you read this bullshit.  Sorry.  Still, gotta continue.  I'm OCD a little bit, I guess.  Needs to be the right number of paragraphs.  So, it's worth making you read crap.  You reading crap I wrote-- negative.  Me making myself feel better by giving into my OCD-- positive.  Positive wins.  That's how that goes. 
    Well, great.  Here we are and whatnot.  I watched Ride Along II.  It's like the first one but this one was released in 2016.  Anyway.  I'm gonna end up having wasted hours on this freeroll with nothing to show for it.  Except extra paragraphs made out of bullshit.  I don't know.  What else.  Apparently you're supposed to give charity on Yom Kippur.  That doesn't add up.  Charity is doing something.  You're not supposed to be doing things.  I call Shenanigans.  It's Prey, Atone, Charity, according to Wikipedia.  I preyed-- Hey, maybe you're up there, who knows.  I atoned-- Hey, if, by next year, you prove your existence, I promise to atone 100%.  I charitied-- This.  Covered all my bases.  See ya later.

-6:43 P.M. 

Thursday, October 6, 2016

I'm Not Falling For That One Again

    Hello friends and party people.  The Mets did less good at Baseball than the team they were fighting last night.  Oh well, live and learn.  Now we know that Who really cares.  One class in the next in the next ten days.  It's about time.  Here I've been going to four classes a week, like a chump.  Finally starting to pay off and whatnot.  Teacher gave me another poet to check out.  Yeah, I get it.  You know of a lot of poets.  Quit yer' showboating.  I got a check Plus on The The Uppers acrostic.  I think it would have been a Check Plus Plus Plus if I had a better band name.  The Uppers?  But we're reading this from top to bottom.  Contradiction!  These are the kinds of things that I think about.
    At least I'm thinking about kinds of things.  Better than nothin'.  Some Christian spouting nonsense on a bullhorn outside Campus.  Did I have the urge to heckle him?  Sure.  Did I?  No.  You know why?  Couldn't be bothered.  Except for how he bothered me.  Couldn't be bothered any more than I was already being bothered.  He really wanted us to fear God.  That was the gist I got from the thirty seconds I heard him.  You know what it says in the Bible.  God goes, Get With The Program Or You're Outta Here.  Luke 21:12.  Anyway.  I've discovered I'm really good at writing the first half of palindromes.  #Stupid't'd.  What's going on party people and crap.
    Third paragraph.  Startin' the count too early.  Who are you to tell me what's early and not.  Who made you the authority on Early.  At least now The Mets have time to catch up on Fear The Walking Dead.  I bet Billy Beane likes The Walking Dead.  Good to get undervalued Dead People.  Moneyball.  If we were watching zombies play baseball, or we were playing baseball with zombies watching, would anyone be able to tell the difference?  These are the things I think about.  Well, not really.  Never thought about it before.  Hopefully I'll never think about it again.  If I do, oh boy, are my thinking capabilities in trouble.  Mike Pence would be believable as a zombie.  And that's not political bias, I said the same thing about Kerry in 2004. 
    I used to know a guy named Kerry.  He was Asian.  Case closed.  What else is going on.  He's got all this pence-up anger, that's what his extreme lethargic-ness is covering up.  Puns that aren't even puns.  My favorite thing.  Cliton on the upswing again. I guess that five dollars I donated made the difference.  Good for me.  Clinton's team comes across too desperate asking for donations, though.  Apparently what I hear, what people are telling me, they're doing fine.  Their message, though is, HOLY SHIT THINGS ARE GOING TO CRAP WE HELLA NEED FIVE DOLLARS.  I bought into it, hook line and sinker.  Also I get five e-mails a day going, you donated five dollars, do it again.  Do it again.  Do it again.
    C'mon, where you going.  Give me five dollars.  Give me five dollars.  Get off my back Clinton Campaign, is the point.  If your friend jumped off a pier, would you do it too?  Sure-- pier pressure.  #NailedIt.  That's the hashtag the Romans used.  #GetOffMyBackChristianWhoThinksMan'sWorthCorrelatesToHisFearOfGod.  Where does he get off.  Havin' a bullhorn and stuff.  I want a bullhorn.  You don't see me gettin' a bullhorn and spouting off nonsense, do ya?  Well, do ya?  I shoulda gone up to him and said,  Can you keep it down, some of us are trying to pray.  See how he responds to that.
    What else and crap.  Sixth paragraph.  I'm doin' it!  Ask him some practical questions. Excuse me, sir, I was about to smoke a cigarette.  What does it say about smoking cigarettes in the Bible?  Or Hey, where'd you get that bullhorn?  Or I've got some real disbelievers in my neighborhood, you wanna come back there with me when you're done here?  Or a fourth thing.  Or give him a dollar and go Oh, I thought you were homeless.  My mistake.  Where would a homeless person get a bullhorn.  Think, Michael, Think.  Anyway.  A homeless person with a bullhorn.  He'd be the envy of all other homeless person.  Walk right by him, suddenly you hear extremely loud and amplified, Give Me Money.  Really puts the pressure on you, now pedestrians are watching to see what you do.
    Crap and crap.  Got some Halloween candy.  I've already eaten four minipieces of crap over the last 24 hours.  That's a lot of crap relatively!  Homeless people going trick or treating.  C'mon, you're giving candy to kids.  Yeah, but they're kids.  You're homeless.  Get Out Of My House!  Serves you right for letting them in your house in the first place.  Eatin' too much candy is probably how they got homeless in the first place.  Makes sense to me.  Seventh paragraph.  So much vacation.  It's about time.  Whattado with my seven day weekend.  Probably stupid crap and stuff.  Ten paragraph entry today, I'm callin' it.  Probably.  Gotta do something.
    What else.  I could get high by getting drunk again.  Unless that was a one-time thing.  No way of knowing for sure unless I try.  Crap and crap.  I don't wanna try that.  I'm a Responsible these days recently.  I'm watching a high stakes cash game on Poker and I keep forgetting I don't have to play each time the hand is over.  I hear the little sound effect and see the dealer chip move and I get ready to press some buttons.  Don't need to, though.  I'm not sitting at this table!  I'm observing it-- watching it from afar!  It does bring to mind an interesting point of contention which is that I should get points for watching tables.  Gimme a few cents every hand, you can afford it.
    Two more paragraphs to go.  It's about time.  Then I'll have nothing to do for a long time.  It's about time.  I clipped a really good nail last night.  Perfect clipped nail.  Don't mean to brag.  What else and crap.  I don't know.  Nothin's goin' on in my life.  I got a bunch of empty days to fill.  Four or five seasons of Larry Sanders Presents:.  Hopefully getting my guitar fixed.  Then playing it.  I don't know what you guys like to do with your guitars, but I enjoy playing them.  There was a Simpsons where Bart got a guitar and was playing it lefty poorly then Otto takes it and plays righty proficiently.  I don't know if the reason Bart was playing it poorly was because he was playing it with the wrong hands or if it was just some egregious oversight that took me right out of the plot.  Either way, this is a paragraph. 
    Bart's probably a lefty because he's a bad person.  Stereotypes.  Also, they both got sound that was clearly created by an amp, but neither had one.  Took me right out of the episode.  What else is going on.  Stupid nothing to do.  I hate it so much.  There's movies I can watch.  You know, that one, that's on that channel?  You know what I mean.  It's available through T.V. technology.  Wonder if Hillary Clinton wants any more money.  No way of knowing.  I'll see ya later.

-5:28 P.M.            

Wednesday, October 5, 2016

Stop Signs Are Just Suggestions

    Hello friends and whatnot.  Start of a new month.  That hasn't happened in roughly a month. Killin' It.  Got some comments on my latest poem.  Everyone liked it!  Professor said some really nice things that he surely meant.  Sure, he passionately says nice things about other peoples' poems.  But with me, he means it.  He's just placating their childish desire for approval.  For me, he goes, alright, get to say some great things I really mean for once.  Thank God this kid is in my class.  The point is Everyone Else Is Crap.  What's going on party people.  Met Game tonight.  I'm rooting for The Mets.  I'm pretty much pot committed at this point. 
    What The What.  Donald Trump tweeted that Tim Kaine reminds him of a villain from Batman.  I guess somebody saw my Tweet that Hillary Clinton looks like The Joker.  It's about time.  I thought Tim Kaine won the debate.  Did he come off a little bit annoying?  Maybe.  I'd describe it as passionate.  He was ready to go, in it to win it, a third thing.  Pretty sure Mike Pence thought he was just having a lucid dream and was too lazy in his assumed sleep to do anything about it.  A vote for Pence is a vote for progress.  Not really.  I just felt like saying it or something.  Seems like a line Mayor Goldie Wilson would use in the 1980's in Hill Valley.  It's got that down homey feel that electorates crave.
    I think because Trump was so weird the first debate, it conditioned us to tend to look at the guy whose not speaking more than the guy who is.  Wonder what kind of facial movements this jerk is gonna make.  Movin' where he's looking.  He looked away!  He looked right at the camera!  He looked down!  Fascinating stuff.  Pence putting down Putin for being a Small Man.  Hey, fuck you!  Small men are the shit.  I'm basing this on personal experience-- you know, me?  Also, racist.  Am I being racist by associating putting down with giving a negative comment?  Sure, maybe.  Let's go to the video tape! 
    Huh?  That was odd.  After the debate I randomly thought I want some White Castle.  Probably because of the extreme whiteness of what I had just endured.  And castle.  Castle is Politics.  I learned about it in History.  Anyway.  If Trump's main agenda is riffing on my jokes, I don't know, maybe that's a program I can get with.  Hey Trump, how do you feel about Everyone Else Is Crap?  Seems like something you can get behind.  What else and crap.  Teacher didn't collect the second poem that was due today.  At the end of class, I went to the girl sitting next ot me, He didn't collect this, right?  And she goes, No, don't say anything.  Thought about it for a while.  I don't want to be that guy, but I really would feel better with confirmation from the teacher that he didn't collect it.  It would help me sleep at night.  Asked the teacher.  He didn't collect it, he will tomorrow.  Girl loses respect for me.
    I guess I'm an asshole.  Who saw that coming.  Coulda been like, Hey, Fuck You, It Was Due Today, Not My Fault.  Coulda been.  Wasn't had.  Shoulda could.  Didn't do.  Maybe.  What happened?  Oh, right.  Paragraphs.  Maybe this website is good practice for writing poems.  The poem was pretty much a derivative of the kind of crap this is.  The point is it's October.  Now, I've gotten some positive comments on my workshopped poems.  But, so far, no Let's Fuck.  Kinda what I'm holding out for.  If there's one thing I know, it's that casual irreverence is the ultimate aphrodisiac.  If there's two things I know, the second thing negates the first thing.  If there's three things I know, it's I can't keep track of all these things.  I barely remember the second thing.  First thing was probably pretty accur-- crap I just remembered the second thing! 
    Not sure if that's a thing or not.  Makes sense to me.  Mike Pence kissin' men on the cheek after the debate.  Not quite sure what to make of that.  Maybe it's a religious thing.  Maybe he's just a weirdo.  Who can say for sure.  Sixth paragraph.  That's how We Do.  Back to 0 money on Poker.  That's great, just great.  What else.  When Donald Trump reaches 0 in his bankroll, he hits up his family for wealth.  How does that make him a good business man.  If he didn't have the extra back-up capital, he'd be back to zero like the rest of us.  Politics!  I liked Mike Pence's defense during the debate.  Basically saying to Tim Kaine and the Moderator, You keep saying things, but I don't want to respond to them!  It's a decent strategy to go with if things in general make you look like crap.
    Crap and crap.  I shaved yesterday.  #Hero.  I need to get some followers on Twitter.  All my great tweets are getting ignored.  Each tweet makes like 100 impressions, though.  Man, to make an impression on 100 people?  Not bad at all!  What do you mean that's not what it means.  I know what words mean.  Are you calling my dictionary a liar?  I don't know.  What else and crap.  Mike Pence deployed the ingenious strategy of shaking his head.  Can't fact check someone shaking their head, they didn't say anything.  But we know the truth.  Oh boy, do we.  If Bill Clinton plays the Sax, Tim Kaine plays the Harmonica, we're gettin' close to setting up a band there.  Tim Kaine and Bill Clinton jamming in a private room at the White House while Hillary Clinton is gettin' shit done in the Oval Office.  Seems like a fun scenario for the next eight years.
    What else and crap.  I guess this lesson for poetry is to just embrace my crappiness.  The prompt included a bunch of specific things to include, and my crappiness just engulfed those things.  Gave me a base to stand on for my crappiness.  Future times?  Come up with my own prompts, work backwards.  Think of four or seven things, just write crap and knock 'em off, one by one.  It's a plan so crazy it just might work!  We all know how if things are so crazy, it increases their chances of working.  That's just common sense.  Especially if you read this riff a week ago when I originally wrote it.  I made a groundbreaking change in my cigarette choices.  Went back to regular Camel instead of Camel Blue.  Will it pay off?  If by paying off, I mean still give me cancer, I think it will!
    That's how crap goes and stuff.  Ninth paragraph.  I talk about cigarettes in every other poem I write.  Don't get much more poetic than cigarettes.  It's like Freud said, Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar.  Sometimes, it's a great device for poems and short stories!  He knows what's up.  Turns out they didn't have Camel Regulars, only Camel Blue.  What a shocking twist of fate.  I'm gonna need a few days to really process this.  Too bad I already wrote the poem that was due today that we're handing in tomorrow.  Coulda written a top notch poem with this kind of inspiration. 
    Gotta change the title of the poem, though.  Last poem I titled Poem 39, because that was the assignment number in the book that gives poems prompts, but also because it's a great title.  When it comes to insinuating random numbers, 39 ranks high on the list.  And that's how the rest of the class interpreted it, correctly, instead of just assuming I didn't really title it.  Next poem I have titled as Poem 41.  Now, I wanted that to be a unique title, too.  But if they see that, they'll incorrectly go, Oh, he's just not titling his poems.  I can't be having that.
    Huh?  I split that into two paragraphs.  It was originally one.  I got crap to do, though.  I can't pass up an opportunity to increase the amount of paragraphs by one.  Eleventh paragraph.  Great.  I'm tired of politicians always saying America is the greatest country in the world.  We gotta be number 3 or 4, tops.  Japan is pretty great.  They look at weird porn on the subway.  That gets you at least into the top two.  I guess that's it.  Fine, America can be number 2.  But we're decades behind Japan when it comes to Weird-Porn-On-Subway technology.  Oh, they also sleep in drawers.  Talk about a #1 country.  And I say that not just because it's the best country, but also because #1 Country is a good title for Japan.
    I don't get it.  Crap and crap.  The only feedback I want to give other poems is, I guess this poem is okay, but can't we just talk about My Poem some more?  I think we all liked it, right?  Let's give the people what they want.  Also, we are the people.  We the people.  Constitution.  No?  Anything?  That might be The Declaration Of Independence.  Is that way nobody's responding?  Probably.  What else and crap.  Pretty sure it's the constituion.  We hoWe hold these truths to be self-evient, blah blah blah.  Sure seems like constitution filler instead of declaring independence filler.  In-De-Pence-ence. 
    Talk about history.  That's what I would have said in the one session of observing classes at Stuy that I was supposed to lead.  I told the teacher a week in advance, for my class, I need to actually be the teacher for one day, okay?  And we agreed on a day.  That day comes, he just steamrolls right on, not giving me an opening.  Maybe he was waiting for me to take an active role and jump in, to test my confidence and enthusiasm.  Well, I can proudly say I failed those tests.  AAnyway, split paragraphs into two, again.  Except this time I'm explaining it at the end of the second paragraph.  This is what people wanna read about.  Paragraph construction.
    I'm pretty sure there's tens of dollars to be made if you're a successful poetry writer.  The teacher gave me a comment that my writing is reminiscent of Samuel Amadon.  I'm gonna look him up right now!  Well, here's my first impression-- he's a real poet.  Name checks out and everything.  Second and final impression-- got bored two lines into one poem.  If anything, Samuel Amadon is like Me!  Let's get real, I get top billing in this comparison, whether he's good or not.  My website, I make the rules.  Fourteenth paragraph and what not.  Playin' some Pot Limit Omaha freerolls.  That's great.  I don't know what I'm doin'.  That's great.  I know high cards are good.  Two to a flush is good.  Straight draws are good. 
    That's poker for ya.  What's going on and crap.  I'm satisfied if the Mets make it to the division series and lose.  Just get to one multiple-game playoff.  Good enough for me.  And great they might even win that.  Let's do it Mets.  Hey, I got an Ace.  I got a feelin' that's a positive thing.  What else and crap and whatnot.  Briefly considered switchin' up the background/text colors for this month.  Haven't done that in a while.  I feel like I'm in a groove the last few weeks, though, so don't wanna clunk it up.  You don't mess with success.  No trading horses in midstream.  Ask not what you can do for something, but what something can something I forget. 
    Five paragraphs to go.  How about that and whatnot.  My focus is a little distracted on account of the two Omaha freerolls I'm in.  Each one has a prizepool of 8 satellite seats worth 30 dollars.  Ideally they'd let us unregister and just get the 30 dollars.  Either way, though, it's worth roughly 40 dollars.  I crunched the numbers and whatnot.  Freerolls is underlined in red, prizepool is underlined in red, unregister is underlined in red.  Microsoft Page hopefully steps up its game in Microsoft Page 2004.  I'm stuck at Microsoft Page 2000.  Having a dozen new words in the e-dictionary is the main thing they improve on, right?  Sure.  Who cares.  What a clunker.  
    Four paragraphs to go.  Alright!  Next week I have three days off.  That's even more than this week!  I essentially get a 7 day weekend after class tomorrow.  I need to memorize a poem to recite before class on Oct 31th.  I'm goin with Auto Lullaby, by Franz Wright.  It's a poem I learned in High School Poetry that's relatively short, real chill, and not so hard to memorize.  If I wanted to be a jerk about things I could to like a four line poem.  This one is like 12 or 16 lines, though.  That's not so bad.  And I've got a month to memorize it.  Just recite it to myself each night for four weeks, it'll seep into my memory location of my mindbrain.
    Three paragraphs to go!  Greatness.  My teacher did say something interesting, though.  Something like, the main thing modern poets do is write to other poets.  I think he meant figuratively.  Like imagining another poet as your audience.  That's an interesting way to approach things and crap.  What else is things and crap.  What kinda front would I be givin' for another poet to write to me.  I don't wanna be like that.  You can't de-fine me, man!  How dare you and whatnot.  The good news is what else.  If Tim Kaine looks like a Batman villian, then Mike Pence looks like an Alfred who got cut in the first round of cuts.  They didn't even want to look at him but his family is friends with one of the executive producers.
    He really blew it when he didn't wear stage glasses to the audition.  Anyway.  Pence ain't even in the same universe of Alfred.  I know, that's why he was cut.  Immediately.  Might as well say he was cut from playing Batman.  He can play Batman as an old man.  Ok, he's cut from playing Commissioner Gord-- Hey, he can be a Commissioner Gordon!  Or at least get an audition.  Of which he'll be cut in the first round of cuts.  That settles that.  We need to get Batman's attention, but I don't feel up to turning on the Bat Signal.  Can't somebody else do it.  That sort of bullshit.  What else and crap.  One and a half paragraphs to go.  Great.  If I have to keep playing poker I might stay here and write some extra paragraphs.  You know, be productive and whatnot?  Can't somebody else to do it.
    Wonderful.  Should think about adding that to my transitional phrase repertoire.  You know, for fun and stuff.  People can't imagine writing poems to me.  I'm too cynical.  No way I'd like your poem.  Poems are crap.  The poet I write to that I want to impress is me.  That's how it should be.  Write to yourself.  That makes a whole ton of sense.  This is the 20th paragraph.  That's great.  It's a lot of paragraphs for sure.  And, of course, if Trump was in Batman, the writers would create a character specifically for him, The Trump Card.  I heard about it in a late night comedy show.  I don't get The Riddler.  Oh No, He's Got Riddles!  Run away and whatnot.
    That's how I feel about things.  What else is going on and crap.  I like how in Batman & Robin, Bane is pretty much the stupidest Batman villain since there have been Batman movies, and in The Dark Knight Rises, he's great.  I don't know why I like that.  Seems like something I shold be pretty indifferent to.  Now I don't know what I'm talking about.  Gotta talk about something to a different blog writer.  Are there any other blog writers?  If so, e-mail me and I'll read your blog and go fuck yourself.  Don't know why that happened.  Maybe next poem I'll finally get the constructive criticism Let's Fuck.  Gotta hold out hope and whatnot.
    Anyway, crap and crap.  Saw the Makbeth license plate again today.  Yup, still misspelled.  You would think after reading my stinging lampoon on their license plate a few weeks ago, they'd be shamed into getting a new one spelled right.  You'd think so.  Watched some of the original Bad News Bears last night.  Hey, I'm Walter Matthau, I gradually become less of an asshole as the movie goes on.  That's how that goes and whatnot.  Crap and crap.  Looks like I'll bust in poker soon.  That's good.  I don't wanna write anymore than one or two paragraphs.
    Crap and crap.  I just put double the amount of alcohol I normally do in my orange soda.  I feel drunk for the first time in a while.  That's good news.  Hey, writing crap.  I wonder how that's going.  Oh, so this is why people don't get drunk all the time.  Makes sense to me finally.  Someone posted their poem two days late on Blackboard and the subject title was Finally! That makes sense.  You finally posted your poem.  Read the poem, the title of the poem is Finally!  She sure pulled a quick one on us, boy.  Made me feel like a fool.  That's no good.
    Alright last paragraph.  Can't carry on in this condition and whatnot.  Now that I'm drunk I should give that poet guy another chance.  Nope, can't get into it.  Well, I tried.  That's how that goes.  Hey, cigarettes are good when you're drunk.  Who would have guessed.  Not me.  But then again, I'm no good at guessing.  Whatever.  Ha.  No good at guessing.  Where do I come up with this stuff.  Great.  I don't know.  That's a good transitional phrase.  I don't know a lot of things.  Quite appropriate and whatnot.  And whatnot.  Man, what does that even mean.  Jeez.  Apparently getting drunk makes me high.  Oh well, live and learn.  Live and learn.  Man, I'm totally blowing my own mind.  I'll see ya later.

-6:23 P.M.