Friday, September 30, 2016

This Sure'll Be Some Paragraphs

    How many?  Who knows.  More than zero?  Already there.  What's going on party people.  I don't know.  There was no class today, been a while since I wrote an entry not after class.  I wanna say at least since Sunday.  Because of logic.  You know, that kind of crap and whatnot.  New Pickz'z album to listen to tonight.  I can't wait!  I wonder how good it'll be.  Good?  Or even better?  I have everlong half-boils on my right shoulder.  Pick at it a lot.  How many times do I pick at it and think Hey, Pick-zeez.  Wonder if that's something.  Because there's a lot of things wrong with me and whatnot.  What do you mean Everlong isn't a word.  Why would The Foo Fighters lie?  How dare you suggest such a thing.  Anyway, crap and crap.  Burnt out on The Larry Sanders Show.  How come it's just called The Larry Sanders Show.  Shouldn't it be Late Night With Larry Sanders or It's dark outside with Larry Sanders or Check It Out, the Day Time Is Over! With Larry Sanders.
  Totally takes me out of the moment.  To know there's such blaring plot holes with what the fictional show is called.  Crapped Called in Poker with top pair.  I gotta think about stuff.  Now down to very low bankroll.  Oh well.  The good news is I get to think about possible titles for The Larry Sanders Show Within A Show all the more.  Why, I might be able to come up with a fourth thing.  Let's keep our fingers crossed.  IIn poker, you're most vulnerable when you just got unlucky.  Start thinking, Alright, Top Pair!  Gonna make some money back.  Who cares if he just raised me on the flop.  And bet on the turn.  And bet on the river-- Man, this guy really wants to pay me off when I have top pair!
    Whatta maroon.  He might be betting with a flush draw--- which hit on the river... no, he's bluffing he had a flush draw!  Selective reasoning.  That sort of crap.  Alright, just doubled up with my miniature bank roll!  And you all doubted me.  What else is going on.  Third paragraph and whatnot.  In the long run, isn't having a real B- entry more important than a dollar?  I think so.  What else is going on.  Bill Maher tonight.  I watch that with my Parents.  Some real Parent-Son bonding time.  I wonder who he has on tonight!  Two conservatives and one liberal, or two liberals and one conservative!  What will be a New Rule!  I'm hoping for several!
    Jeez.  If late night comedy audiences are a swing vote, I feel pretty good about Clinton's chances.  But they're not.  You're in an audience for a late night comedy show, odds are you're a Godless Heathen.  Like those Larry Sanders Show audiences-- I hate them so much.  Gonna get a haircut this weekend.  Gonna ask them for a good one.  You know, for strategy?  Anyway.  Doubled up again.  Now I have more than I started with!  That'll show them, that'll show all of them.  And I was about to take a bathroom break.  That woulda clunked up everything.  Anyway.  I feel like this website could be a late night comedy show.  Except without the comedy.  And the late night.  And the show.  Definitely, "A," though.  Sure is somethin'.
    Crap and crap.  Fifth paragraph.  What the what.  Ended up getting Pizza Hut last night.  That'll show Papa John, that'll show all of 'em.  I don't know.  What else is going on.  I was thinking about the chant they have in Marines and possible Other Army Things, "I don't know but I've been told... ... something that rhymes with told."  Think I figured it out.  Teaches cadets not to think for themselves.  You guys don't know anything.  You're being told stuff, though.  That's what counts.  You don't know and you're being told.  Get with the program.  Turns out who cares.  Still trying to figure out what Eskimo Pussy Is Mighty Cold means.  Could just be a statement that's a fact. 
    I think in the Marines you should need to give your Drill Sergeant at least one Eskimo Kiss per day.  You know, because of stupid, and crap.  Buzzfeed List Top 34 Eskimo Words For Snow.  I'm not jokin-- I wanna see the kind of crap they're working with.  And all the better if we get a definition for how each word is different.  I want to learn things!  Internet can teach me.  Internet is a pretty smart guy.  I don't know, what else and crap.  Is Stonehenge still a mystery.  I wonder what's up with that crap.  Issues.  Crap and crap.   Gary Shandling is making fun of talk shows in Heaven now.  Also, the talk shows he's making fun of are Heaven Talk Shows.  Meant that to be clear.  The Jesus Christ Variety Hour!
    Can't wait.  What else and crap.  So Buddha, I hear you recently got in a car accident.  He gets all the great guests.  What else is going on.  And, yes, apparently there are car accidents in Heaven.  What else is going on and crap.  Buddha seems like the type to ride a bike.  Better for the environment, better for the guy who rides the bike.  Crap and crap.  Donated five dollars to the Hillaryrosenstein Clintonmobile campaign.  #Hero.  #JetLi.  #JetLag.  #Hashtag.  Jeez am I really happy I did that bullshit.  Stupid poem due Monday.  I don't wanna write a line about someone I know that I haven't seen in years.  I don't wanna write a line about a plce I've never been.  I don't wanna write a line about a Stre--- wait, a Street?  That's it?  I can write about a street.
    Probably Bell Blvd.  Key street where I live.  Maybe Springfield Blvd.  Both big streets.  Tough to choose just one.  Maybe I can have two streets and get rid of the person I used to know.  Eighth paragraph.  That's how We Do.  What other things do I need in the poem.  A kitchen appliance.  An article of clothing.  Any three of the following words-- sprawling, relaxed, maniacal, wrinkle, spinach.  The poem prompt is really out of left field.  And that's a bad field to be out of.  Not like right field, thinks it's so great.  Maybe Maniacal, that reminds me of me.  Wrinkle-- just wrote about Rip Van Winkle.  If it was Ip Van Wrinkle, that's pretty close.  Hey, one more possible word I can do, looking at the prompt again-- Mucus.  What a joyful word.  Everyone's on board with some mucus.
    What else and crap.  Ninth paragraph.  That's how that goes.  Also, besides those required content things, the main part of the poem is to either write with shorter or longer lines than I'm comfortable with.  I'm gonna go with shorter.  Two or three words a line, let's do it.  I'm pumped.  This is gonna be class-workshopped, though.  Really should knock it out of the park.  You know, so my peers will respect me?  R-E-S-P-E...C... the point is, you don't get unrespected again.  Morals!  Feels like a 15'r.  I'm close to 10 and feel like I got another extra 5 in me.  This incarnation of Crazysheet is almost four and a half years.  That's a shit load of time.  And it probably started getting entertaining some time in 2014.  Alright!  Solid two years of bordering on entertaining.
    Knockin' it out of the park.  If I could double up my starting stack 2 or 3 more times, bam, right in the zone for possibly being sustainable.  Alright!  Wouldn't it be great to get on Apple Music.  They should just have a Independent service where you get on there and they don't pay you.  I'm full of great ideas like that.  You know, that... and giving your drill sergeant Eskimo Kisses.  Full of ideas.  Tenth paragraph I guess.  That's pretty good.  The longer this takes the more I can delay eating Pizza Hut.  The longer it takes me to get to Pizza Hut the more half hours I have of being slightly less unhealthy in body and mind.  That's good news.
    Five to go!  Then a very decent 15 paragraphs on a day that wasn't even a class day.  Great.  Got to pimp my band on Wednesday in Poetry.  Cause the acrostic I did was The Uppers, so I was like, That's my band name.  And a girl looked at me while smiling!  She's on board with my crap.  Just gotta work The Uppers into every remaining poem and think of all the smiles I'll get.  Is it possible she was thinking Whatta douche bag?  Yes!  I'll take it!  What else is going on.  50 Year Old Lady I briefly had a crush on wrote a poem about dying.  We get it, you're old.  Anyway.  I like finding patterns within the flop and my folded hand.  Say I fold 68.  Flop is 2 10 Q.  All even numbers!  And consecutive ones at that!
    Because there's things wrong with me.  There's no 4 in that sequence.  How dare you question my pattern-recognizing skills.  That's the main thing I'm good at.  Twelfth paragraph.  Alright!  Why do public restrooms always have that ultra-thin toilet paper.  They're not foolin' anybody.  We're all doubling or tripling up.  There's no money being saved, you're just making things less convenient.  Hell, most of us double or triple up regular toilet paper.  I lost a pot in Poker.  That's not supposed to happen.  At this rate, if I lose enough pots, I'm out of money!  That doesn't sound fair, does it?
    Three paragraphs to go.  Maybe the next pot I'm in I'll Win.  Here's hopin.  Just got AA.  Won a raised pot preflop.  I'll take it.  It's better than that not having had happened.  Stupid website distracted me, I should have convinced that jerk to go all in.  Because that's how people decide how to react to your play in poker.  They see how many milliseconds it took for you to hit raise and act accordingly.  What else is going on.  I don't know.  Anyway.  At what point do we stop Being With Her.  After the election?  When she's sworn in?  I got things to do, lady.  I can't be with you for four or eight years.  Things to do.  What else and crap.  I need to start getting some money for all the advertisements I give here.  Pizza Hut should be paying me a millisecond of a cent.  That sort of crap. 
    Two to go!  Almost seems like I'll be leaving you too soon.  Fifteen paragraphs is pretty good, though.  Quit your bellyaching.  What else and crap.  Had to get a new alcohol bottle on Thursday.  For strategy.  If I had class on Monday or Tuesday, would have been able to wait until then.  Since I don't, it was either get it now, or wait to get it and potentially having to take a walk and get it on Monday or Tuesday.  That's no good.  I got enough problems in life, having to walk every now and then is just something I don't need.  Anyway.  Most stuff I put in the oven to heat up if I can.  Not Pizza Hut.  I have bad memories of putting it in the oven in the past and it coming out all crispy in a bad way.  No good.
    Last paragraph!  Or will I go for 20.  We'll see how this paragraph goes and wait to make a final decision on that.  My parents are arguing over which one said Trump May Be On Cocaine first.  I don't wanna get involved, but It was my Dad.  Saying that pissed my Mom off something awful.  Not really.  Oh well.  I don't think he was on cocaine.  I think he just had a case of the sniffles.  That guy.  What else and crap.  My real problem was him blowing on his water before drinking it.  Does he know something we don't?  Should we all be blowing on water before we drink it?  Really makes you wonder.
    Alright, I'll do 5 more paragraphs!  Don't know who's excited about that.  Me, I guess.  Alright, crap and crap, let's get crapping with it.  I can do an odd number of paragraphs.  Whose gonna stop me, you?  One episode in the first season of Larry Sanders Presents the guests on the show were Jon Lovitz, Lyle Lovett, and a third thing.  Really doubling down on the Lovit last name, huh?  I hope Janeane Garofalo or whoever did the booking for that show got a stern talking to.  What else and crap.  I don't know.  Crap and crap.
    What else and crap.  At this rate I don't think I'm ever gonna see Meet The Parents.  Talked about it probably at least once every month here since 2013.  Found out recently I can't find the DVD.  Now I just gotta bide my time until it's on HBO On Demand.  I'll be here, watching, waiting.  For that joyous moment to arrive.  Lil Kim, she's phat.  Then the guy looks at the poster like She doesn't look fat.  It's unspoken that was his response.  He coulda just been put off by Ben Stiller's attempt to be cool.  I'd like to believe that he interpreted it as Fat because he thought Ben Stiller was a Square who wouldn't use the word Phat so he must have meant Fat.  These are the real issues?
    Crap and crap.  Three paragraphs to go!  Alright.  Well, two days of Pizza Hut isn't gonna help me lose weight.  Hopefully I just didn't gain weight.  I'll take two days of breaking even.  What else and crap.  I think one slice has 300% your daily salt intake.  That's how they make it addictive.  Good for them, really thinking on their feet and whatnot.  I don't know. Two and a half to go.  Just like how many men there are in that program.  I forget what it's called.  Who cares.  I don't know.  More Larry Sanders watching tonight.  I'm pot committed now.  Can't quit now, no goin' back. 
    Two to go.  Yeesh.  Were these last paragraphs really necessary?  Probably not.  I don't know.  Crap and crap.  Let's see.  What else.  Shoulda gone with combining regular pizza with Beef Patty.  Live and learn.  Except not really.  By the time this comes up again I'll have forgotten.  Well, live at least.  Let's hope so.  Lost most my chips running into a set over set.  Oh well, can't complain.  What else is going on.  I don't know.  Crap and crap.  Met game soon.  I'll watch it.  It's practically Play Offs.  They win tonight, almost assuredly make the playoffs.  Still have a great chance even if they lose.  And if they make the playoffs that means they have to play more baseball against other teams that made the playoffs, gradually eliminating each other until one wins The World Series and is the Champion of Baseball.
    That's how that goes.  I wouldn't lie to you.  Down to 46 cents.  Looks like I'll go bust tonight.  Oh well.  Crap and crap.  As of now I still have 46 cents.  That's nothin' to sniffle your nose at.  AQ big blind.  This could be it.  Won a pot.  Up to 56 cents!  That's how it starts.  Jeez.  I don't know.  Entry'd it up today.  That's good.  Better than not doing anything quantitatively speaking.  What else and crap.  Start my poem tomorrow.  Probably.  About a third through the semester.  Five classes left after this.  Two Spring, Two Fall, One Summer.  Or One either Spring or Fall and Two Summer.  Point is I'm done with this crap by the end of next year if I play my cards right.  I'll see ya later.

-6:51 P.M.

Thursday, September 29, 2016

Six Day Weekend!

    It's about time.  Got some grades back Wednesday.  Three poems-- Check Plus, Check Plus, A.  Knocked that crap out of the park.  Surprised about the A.  Revision is supposed to be a key part of that and I just changed the order of the stanzas.  Got an A.  That'll show him.  Erm, I mean, That'll not show me.  The second one is more accurate.  That's how I feel.  Test today.  Probably bullshitted my way to a B or so.  That''ll show all of em.  Anyway.  There was a train crash.  That's no good.  If Money Train has tought us anything it's that train crashes should be avoided-- even in the case it's a money train.  And crashing leads to you getting money somehow.  Anyway.  Is it possible Train Crash is a terrorist attack?  They're hitting us where it hurts the most-- our trains! 
    What else.  If not a terrorist, it's gotta be Mr. Glass, right?  That super villain.  Lookin for a new Super Hero since it's assumed Bruce Willis is one and done for super hero-ing it after finding out about Samuel L Jackson's true identity.  What else is going on.  It'll be interesting to see which candidate comes out first against Train Crashes.  Seems like it could be a real wedge issue.  Crap and crap.  Six day weekend, essentially.  Most would call it five days.  Thems are fools, though.  Been re-watching The Larry Sanders Show-- on T.V. this time!  Whole different animal.  And I really get into character of being a guy who has HBO in 1992 and is watching it.  Hmm, let's see.  Guy who has HBO in 1992.  A little head of the curve.  Hmm, let's watch Trouble With The Curve.  Take a little break.  Get back to this character once it's had time to marinate.
    That's how that might have gone.  My favorite part is when everyone in the office is friends.  Real triumph of the human experience and whatnot.  What else is going on.  Crapped my way through exam today.  We had like twelve readings and at first I was likei I don't remember a single one of them.  Then I thought of Rip Van Winkle.  That bullshit.  I remember the premise.  Guy falls asleep-- wakes up later.  That sort of crap.  Got some Gyro from diner last night.  I've made it clear how much I like chicken and lamb with rice.  This is pretty close.  It's chicken or lamb with pita bread.  And I don't need to leave the house and walk for an excruciating 25 minutes to get it. 
    I can even get it at midnight!  Maybe!  They might have a limited menu!  The good news is fuck that.  I'm eatin' at midnight, I'm makin' myself a sandwich.  I have all the components of a potential sandwich at home.  Crap and crap.  I can't 100% read all the comments I got on the "A" poem, but there's a 2 word comment that I can't read either word, but I'm just assuming it's a paraphrasing of, Knocked It Out Of The Park.  The script sure seems to be in a positive tone.  Anyway.  There are places where you can send your handwriting and they tell you things about you.  This Teacher just made a Rookie Mistake.  Now I can send in his handwriting and find out everything on this guy.  Can't wait to invade this asshole's privacy.
    Sat at a lefty desk today.  Don't like it.  It implies us lefties need special treatment and whatnot.  Give me a righty desk, I'll make do.  Fifth paragraph.  It's October in two days.  Great.  Time to wake up Green Day.  Morals!  Green Day album next week.  Pixies album I believe this Friday.  Those are two bands I enjoy.  I don't care who knows it.  As long as it's not my Poetry Teacher.  Stop invading my privacy you dolt.  And if you wanna say, "Knocked It Out Of The Park," don't mince words, just say it.  Mince is a word we use sometimes, but not often.  Comedy routine.  Anyway.  No flipping.
    Crap and crap.  Too bad Christie didn't Bridge-gate the train.  Woulda prevented this whole tragedy.  What else is going on.  I blame the Bad Guy from Money Train.  Surely he influenced the mechanics of the train or whatever went wrong.  Bad guy.  What else.  They've got all this money on a train, Wesley.  It's me, Woody!  We have similar first names!  Let's get that money!!!  Perfect escape route, too.  They'll never be able to find us where this train is going!  No spoilers.  Except for the guy who sets people on fire and then gets set on fire.  Already let that one slip in an earlier entry.  Oh well.  I think my Comedy Professor said he specializes in Humor of The Sopranos.  Or he considers himself an expert in the field of Humor of The Sopranos.  Good for him.  It's a funny show.  Maybe I should mine him for some good perspectives and whatnot.
    Let's see, what else.  Other Professor brought up The Sopranos last time, too.  Yeah, cats are really ominous, in The Sopranos, there's a cat, and Christopher's looking at it... WAIT A SECOND, CHRISTOPHER IS SUPPOSEDLY IN THE CAT, PAULIE'S LOOKING AT IT.  Which is what I interrupted and said.  I figured that would make him respect me more.  That I know things.  I think it just made me think I was an asshole.  Seventh paragraph.  I need to get my two teachers together, Comedy Teacher can lecture Poetry Teacher on the Sopranos.  I would be providing a great service to everyone.  Crap and crap.  Looks like The Mets will almost definitely make it to Wild Card.  That's good.  I'm a fan of The Mets.  I would prefer them to do good at baseball.
    Anyway.  I can't wait for the Vice Presidential Debates.  I'm rooting for the bland white guy.  Except the one who likes Spanish.  And harmonica.  The other one can blow me.  What else is going on.  One can blow me, the other can blow the harmonica!  Morals.  What else.  I can't wait till the Talent part of the debate.  That's when Harmonica-ing will really pay off.  Anyway.  I'm pretty pleased with the sound settings I have for my phone.  Text sound?  Great.  Phone call sound?  Good-- but could be better.  E-mail sound?  That's really where my sound choices shine.  E-mail sound is really great. 
    There's a commercial for some online college where a guy is like, My Mom always told me to get a degree, she's dead now, sometimes I call her just to hear her voice.  Then he calls her, and the answering machine is a standard robot answering machine saying Please Leave a Message.  Wha... WHAT?  Now, we know she's not picking up the phone.  She's dead.  It makes sense if her voice is on the answering machine.  The way it is, you're a fuckin' liar.  This whole thing is one big lie.  What else and crap.  Unless if your Mom was the model for that robot voice.  If that's the case, you gotta lead with that!  My Mom, who was the basis for robot answering machines, always told me to go to college... 
    Anyway, that's that and crap.  What else.  Tenth paragraph.  That's good.  Up to Vaudeville next class!  Which isn't for two weeks. Rosh Hashanah muckin' up schedules.  Paulie: Hey, Cat, You're Christopher!  Cat:  Pauly Walnuts, You Crackerjack.  Not 100% on what vaudeville is.  That's my understanding of it at this point.  Calling people crackerjacks.  I use various spelling for Pauly.  I figure I gotta get it right at least one.  Strategy!  Anyway.  I don't know.  My Brother's birthday is next week.  I'm thinking about getting him Give Me 100 Dollars On Poker.  I don't know.  I haven't participated in giving birthday or Christmas gifts to my relative.  Everyone else does.  But everyone else got a job. 
    What would Social Security say if I'm spendin money on gifts.  Probably something negative, one would imagine.  I should do something, though.  Give everyone macaroni portraits of things.  Like a five year old.  Something like that.  Looks like I might cash in a tourny that gives me enough money to min-buy in at a 1/2 cent table.  Alright!  Back in business!  Don't count your eggs before they're excreted, though.  Excreted, right?  That's how that works?  I don't know.  I've got a whole 20 minutes on Eggs.  The ultimate insult!  Not only are we gonna eat you, we're gonna eat your unborn children!  By 20 minutes I mean 7 seconds.  Close enough.
    If life begins at conception, why aren't eggs meat.  Wedge issue!  That sort of bullshit.  I keep thinking about trying a Potato & Egg hero from Italian Food Places.  That sounds crazy enough, it just might work!  Potato sandwich.  I don't know.  Also, if sounding crazy increases the chances that something might work, I don't get it.  Don't get it.  What else.  Well, I cashed in the tourny.  If I get lucky and double up several times I stand to make a decent amount, too.  Something that may just possibly be sustainable.  First prize is 48 dollars.  That's a lot of dollars.  Quantitatively, roughly 48.
    I don't know.  Crap and crap.  Gotta write a poem for workshopping by Monday.  Follow a prompt.  The prompt told us a bunch of specific things we need to include.  Finally, some direction!  Not my fault, prompt told me to do it.  Alright!  Thirteenth paragraph.  About time.  What else.  Might donate 5 dollars to Hillaryward Clintonerson.  Gotta run it by my parents.  Sure, I have some Social Security money.  But it all goes into the same pool.  My parents are reluctant to donate to Hillary cause she's got a bunch of big doners.  Well, I've got a lunch of big boners!  Morals! 
    What the what.  I can already tell my grandkids I canvassed for Bernie and donated to him.  Now I wanna tell them I donated 5 dollars to Hillary, and convince them that somehow it was my five dollars that made the difference.  Grandkids are stupid, they'll believe anything.  I can't have grandkids if I don't have kids.  I can't have kids if I don't have a wife.  Well, maybe that's how I'll get a wife.  Lead with that whenever meeting someone new.  You know, I donated five dollars to Hillary.  Great husband material.  One would imagine.  Alright, now I made enough coin to sit down at the NON-MINI-STACK table.  Looks like someone's gonna be playin' with the big boys. 
    What else.  Fifteenth paragraph.  Feels like 20'r.  No reason not to.  Except for having shit to say.  That's a good reason.  But not good enough!  Or I could stop it after this paragraph.  We'll see how it goes.  Six day weekend.  Imagine how many times I can re-watch The Mummy Returns!  Apparently they're making a new Shanghai-Noon.  I like that.  Jackie Chan, I thought, was great.  Turns out he promotes authoritarian government in China, though.  He had a quote that was something like, We can't have freedom!  We might choose to do the wrong thing!  That's that guy.  Aww, I can't stay mad at him.  He thinks he's funny.  Him thinking he's funny actually makes him funny.  It's a self-fulfilling proposition.
    Self-fulfilling proposition.  Like writing more paragraphs I guess one would imagine.  Nice semi-chilly day.  I love me some semi-chilly days.  So much better than hot days or chilly days.  Anyway, crap the crap.  Lots of free time to kill.  That's a reason to never stop writing this entry.  Think of all the words I'd say!  Hundreds--nay, thousands!  That's a lot of words.  What else is going on.  Well, busted in poker.  Made 65 cents.  Brings my total to 96 cents.  That's wonderful.  It's more cents than it was before.  That's how that goes. 
    What else and crap.  Almost done with the entry relatively.  Just made 37 cents at a table.  Sat out.  Not in the mood to risk over a dollar.  Wonderful.  What else and crap.  Feel like eating some crap tonight.  And by Crap, I mean Pizza Hut.  Really reward/punish myself for all the hard work I did this week.  What with spending two minutes preparing for my test, actually checking what I got on my Poem that turned out to be an A but I thought would be a C because of the only revision me doing was changing the order of the stanzas.  Walking home from class a solid four times.  I've earned it, is the point.
    Good news is 3 more paragraphs.  I don't trust this PPapaPapa John's character.  You're tellin' me the most Italian guy you could find is a guy named John?  Still, better than Subway.  Jared from Subway shows up in a few scenes of the Adam Sandler masterpiece Jack & Jill.  Watching it, I go, Hmm, so that's how a pedophile acts.  Try to read into the performance for any clues.  It's a good movie.  I'm a big proponent of Adam Sandler movies that are perceived and assumed to be mediocre.  When it comes to watching a movie, it don't get much more benign than an Adam Sandler movie.  I used the word benign in Group Work from Tuesday.  There was a fifty year old guy in my group and when I said benign he really lit up.  Yeah, exactly, Pie is benign!  You had to be there I guess.
    Well, you didn't.  I'll tell you right now.  We were reading some parody of a moral or religious text that was talking about how bad Pie is.  And I was like it's funny because pie is so benign.  Fifty year old guy loved it.  Most animated I've seen him all semester.  Benign, Right!  Whatta Great Word!  You Got Any More Great Words?  Except for the last part.  He was so happy with Benign that he knew it could never be topped.  You can say B9 in Battleship.  Battleship is one game I never got on board with.  It's boring.  And it's unrewarding.  I don't remember ever starting a battleship game where I actually sunk someone's battleship.  Just remember getting bored.  Now, I remember playing it.  I must have actually seen it through to completion at some point.  I just have no memory of it.  I imagine the Battleship boards set up, and then it goes blank.
    Good news is last paragraph.  I like movies like Shanghai Knights where they introduce characters that turn out to be historical figures.  Really rewards you for watching.  Hey, I had no idea that Charlie Chaplin was friends with Owen Wilson and Jackie Chan as a kid!  I never would have known if I hadn't seen this movie!  That's how that goes.  That must have been where he learned all that Karate.  I don't feel like ending this yet.  Sure, I hit a lull a few paragraphs ago, not that you would realize.  But now I'm back in business.  Ready to go for another round.  Five paragraphs is a round.  I decided on it myself.
    What the what.  The TheThe longer I write, the later I get dinner.  The later I get dinner, the more hours it is that I haven't eaten anything.  The more not eating I do the more weight I lose.  Unnecessarily took a while to get there, but that's my train of thought.  100 injured and 1 dead due to Crazysheet's Train of Thought.  Sorry friends.  I had no idea my thoughts would be so... so... Un-benign.  What the what.  I just made another cent.  That'll show them, that'll show all of them.  Sit in on thee table for one more round of blinds.  That's possibly the biggest mistake I make in poker, after playing above my limits.  Keep tellin' myself I'll stop after the next round, keep putting it off each round.  Just one more.  Probably not the best state to be in when you're playing.
    What, now, four more paragraphs?  Sounds about right.  That's a lot of paragraphs.  That brings me to 25, right?  If not that, 20.  I feel like 25, though.  You can't argue with a feeling.  Unless if the feeling turns out to be factually incorrect.  Then argue all you want.  Down three cents since last update.  Been folding Ace high at a 5 person table.  That's no good.  Gotta quit before I make any more mistakes.  Yep, this is 22nd.  Whatta world.  Alright, one more round.  If I lose 3 cents, I'm at an even 35 for the table.  Shit, I forgot to unclick sit out, and I sat out.  Definitely for the best.  Pushing buttons ahead of time pays off, that's the moral of that story.  Another freeroll at 8:00. 
    I can win cents!  So many cents!  I should just get regular pizza.  Less calories.  We'll see how that situation develops and plays out and whatnot.  I take it personally when pizza is cited as unhealthy.  You eat two slices of plain pizza, which is the standard size of a pizza meal, that's 600 calories.  That's a pretty low amount of calories for one meal.  Not insanely low, but certainly not unhealthy.  The point is dieticians are all frauds and I hope they burn in Hell.  Two more paragraphs after this one.  Knocked it out of the park.  Hmm, that inspires me to re-check the phrase Professor used that I interpreted as Knocking It Out Of The Park.  Well, here's one-- for the poem I revised and got an, "A," it says, "(Poem quite improved)."  Because I changed the order of stanzas.  I'll take it.  Ok, here it is.  The script says, I wanna say, "Well-rendered."  Well, pretty much sure that's what it says.  Rendered, I don't know.  And the sub-comment is (No Mean Feat.)  I think that's the part I associated with Knocking It Out of the Park.  Well Rendered.  Still confused.
    The good news is I got an extra piece of loose-leaf paper.  We had one to do the test on today, I asked for a second one because my responses barely bled into needing a 2nd page.  He goes, Why Not Take Two Pieces!!! He didn't say that to anyone else.  But, fine, if you're offering, I'll take a free piece of paper.  You won't get an argument out of me.  Paragraph and a half to go.  Right on.  A Dollar and Thirty One Cents overall.  I can do some crap with that.  Probably.  Well, probably not.  I'm misusing the word "Probably."
    Last paragraph.  Whattado now.  There's a place where whenever I order a Medium Pie they give me a Large Pie and only charge me for the Medium Pie.  Oughtta use some Strategy and get that.  Hey, there's another place where you can get beef patties!  Almost forgot about that delectable treat.  The good news is what else.  Man, I can't believe I lost 3 cents since I said I was up a cent.  Really jinxed myself.  Well, there goes that.  A potato sandwich. What will they think of next.  So many things they might think of.  Are we talking any field?  Or just sandwich-field.  I don't know.  The New York Times had a book review of a Hitler Book.  It quoted that Hitler went from, "Dunderhead," to, "Demagogue."  How about from Dolt to Dictator?  From Dummy to Devil?  Let's mine these alliteration synonyms for all they're worth.  See ya later.

-6:27 P.M.
 

Tuesday, September 27, 2016

Let's Get What The What'ing With It

    Hello party people.  It's me.  Another Party Person.  Let's get what the whating with it.  Gotta do an acrostic.  Did a quick one on two minutes just now and it's pretty much the crappiest thing that's ever been written by anybody.  And I'm including Charles Dickens.  What an amateur.  The point is Hello Party People.  Five more games in The Mets' Season.  You know what that means.  Five more games in The Mets' Season.  Pretty self explanatory I thought.  Teacher split us up into groups today.  Five people in the group.  One designated note-taker, one designated speaker to class about what we figured out.  I volunteered to be the speaker.  Strategy.  Didn't want to be the note-taker.  Sure, odds are I'd end up as neither.  Strategy, though-- this way I make sure I'm not the note-taker.  Classes are all about strategy. 
    Ended up only finishing the assignment halfway.  Made me look like an ass to the class saying we didn't get that far.  Stupid group, I hate it so much.  Test on Thursday.  That's good news.  The good news is that it wasn't Today.  Poem for tomorrow.  I can do that.  Letters are hard, though.  There's roughly 25 of them and there's a whole lot of orders you can arrange them in.  The point is lets get to some comedy or something.  Clinton cleaned Trumps' clock in the debate.  At least now his clock is clean.  That's a nice service to do for someone.  We all know how bad dirty clocks are. 
    Huh.  Great.  Close to busting in poker.  Oh well.  Now I'll have free time to do what I really want to do-- ... ... One would imagine I'll think of something.  This'll be a short entry.  I don't wanna subject you to this kind of crap for an extended period of time.  Not fair to you, not fair to me.  Gotta write a killer Acrostic.  Acrostic'll make you jump, jump.  What's going on and crap.  Can't all be winners.  Some entries gonna be clunkers.  Hope I can get some cash for them.  That's Obama's legacy.  Cash for Clunkers.  Right?  Probably.  Whatta watch when I'm done with this.  Season finale of The Rap Game probably On Demand by now.  Got a new wallet.  The old one was comin' apart.  The new one isn't.  I used logic to switch to the new one. 
    Wonderful.  Crap and crap.  I don't know.  Watched Money Train yesterday.  They're on a train with money!  Pretty exciting stuff.  Wesley Snipes doesn't do much anymore.  What's his problem.  Get off your ass and make some movies you idiot.  I don't know.  Kris Kross'll make ya, clunk, clunk.  I blame Kris Kross for this entry.  Gotta blame somebody.  Anyway, shit.  Maybe this crap entry is my way of tellin' myself Get crackin' on that poem, make that good.  People will actually read that.  Hey, I made the Dean's List!  Looks like I'm a genius.  I knew it.  If you're gonna make a list, the Dean's List is the way to go.  Not like that Sexual Predator list.  You're letting your parents down if you make that list.  Or makin' em proud.  Your sexual deviancy might have started with them.  You're carrying on the family tradition in that case.
    Huh?  Anyway.  Invited to go to The Dean's List Reception.  What the Hell would be accomplished there.  You got some good grades over a relatively extended period of time.  Let's have some punch.  I don't need no punch.  What if someone spiked it?  I can't take that risk.  Donald Trump making faces at the camera.  Sniffling a lot.  Each time he sniffled my Dad looked at me and made a face at me.  He does that.  That's our main method of communication besides Whistling.  Him making weird faces at me, and, if the mood strikes me, I make 'em back.  If that kind of stuff doesn't turn you into a sexual predator, what does.  Main thing that bothered me, though, was before Trump took a sip of water, he blew on the glass a little bit.  What's he up to.
    Anyway, crap the crap.  I think Clinton being shorter actually worked to her advantage.  The split screen had them at the same height, but Donald Trump was always looking down and she was looking up.  That's a positive message.  Trump looks down on us.  Clinton looks up.  Point-- Hillary.  Trump denies pretty much scores of things he's said, and gets away with it.  In the debate, though, a hundred million people are watching.  We just heard you said you're smart for not paying enough in taxes.  An hour later you deny it.  Now, most of the time, we take whosever word for it-- logical people take the facts' word, stupid people take Trumps word.  But we all just heard you say it.  We don't need to take anyone's word.  We were there.
    Morals!  What else and crap.  I don't know.  Let's see, words, words.  What words can I use.  To populate paragraphs.  Seventh paragraph, huh.  I guess ten is within reach.  That's how that goes.  There was a subplot in Money Train where there's a guy who sets people on fire.  Doesnt' tie into the money train at all.  They introduce him a third into the movie and they take him out two thirds.  Nothin' to do with Money Or Trains.  Well, he does them in subway stations.  But still, c'mon.  Who cares.  Either make a movie about a Money Train or make a movie about Guy Who Sets People On Fire.  He gets set on fire at the end.  Oh, cruel irony!  What a twist of fate!  The point is now I don't respect Woody Harrelson.  He's better than that movie.  Wesley Snipes, probably, too.  He's been in three movies since the Blade movies so I can't say for certain.
    After the debate, my Dad pointed out one of the News Commentators, That's Woody Harrelson!  Took me two seconds to realize he's not having a stroke and that that's who Woody Harrelson played in that movie.  Having strokes is associated with saying crazy weird things, right?  Seems like it would be.  Should be, at least.  Jay Roach is directing all those HBO movies.  He's a wacky comedy director!  I learned it during the 18 months I wanted to be a director.  I got them all down.  Jay Roach, Milos Forman, Wolfgang Petersen.  Got 'em all down.  McG.  He happened to be a thing during the exact same time I cared.  Pretty sure he's not a thing anymore.  I hope not.  With that kind of name, it tells me he doesn't take things seriously enough.
    Anyway, what else and crap.  Poem.  It's hard to write an Acrostic and not feel like fourth grader/have the poem be worthy of something beyond what a fourth grader can accomplish.  Stupid poems, I hate them so much.  That Makes Me Smart!  I want to work that into crazysheet as a new catchphrase.  Anyway, crap and crap.  I don't have to use The Uppers as my Acrostic premise.  Sure, it would trick people into hearing my band name, but it's not 100% neccesary.  The point is what else and crap.  Ninth paragraph.  Got out of the funk I was in the first three or four to get to some almost funny.  Maybe if I make it 15 it'll be relatively worth reading perhaps.
    Only one way to find out!  Probably.  I've crunched the numbers and I can't think of another way besides trying to do it.  What else and crap.  Coconut Vodka.  Engages the taste buds in a different way than other flavors.  Not just different, but different.  You get it.  Well, I blew my Poker Bankroll.  Didn't really do anything wrong, so I'm okay with it.  Well, I did one or two things wrong.  But overall, just didn't get lucky.  That's how that goes.  Twelve weeks until my birthday.  I can go 12 weeks without poker.  I've gone a bunch of weeks without poker throughout my lifetime.  Roughly a lot.  The good news is I can watch Money Train again to see all the things I missed the first time around.
    What the what.  Focus on entries and crap.  I do still have 3 cents.  Can't do much with 3 cents.  Can't do anything.  There's no .05/.10 of a cent limits.  If there were, that still might not be enough.  I need .01/.02 of a cent limits.  I heard pennies cost more to make than they represent.  I heard it from a reliable source-- my memory.  Memory of hearing it one time.  That doesn't surprise me.  When I see Please Recycle on the label of a drink or something, I just think how much money did you spend printing that phrase.  Gotta be more than five cents, right?  If I wanted to print a phrase it would cost me five cents.  I don't have the facilities to do it en-masse, though. 
    The point is that paragraph is over.  I can still play Freerolls.  Who knows, I might make another 55 cents that I can lose in half an hour.  Except this time it'll be 58 cents.  I knew saving those three cents would pay off in the long run!  If I want to kill time playing freerolls, I should stop going all in on the first hand.  You should stop going all in on the first hand!  Don't question my Poker Playing!  I've got skills on top of skills!  Beneath some faults!  What paragraph is this.  Twelfth.  Well, I sure accomplished something here.  No gettin' around that.  I have enough Points to play in a 10 cent buy in tourney.  That's nothin to sniff your nose at.  I'm lookin' at you, Trump.
    Crap and crap.  You can request 1000 play money chips over and over and they give it to you instantly.  After ten or so times in ten minutes, though, you'd think they'd go, I Think You've Had Enough.  Because of things and crap.  For a year I was blowing 2 dollars every month for playing in play money on PokerStars.  Now I'm breaking even.  I call that progress.  Gotta call it something.  It's not gonna qualify or name itself.  Man, 100 dollars in ten months.  Weeks.  That's even less!  In the meantime, I can watch Money Train over and over again.  Jennifer Lopez is in it! 
    I wouldn't lie to you.  Check it out for yourself.  Fourteenth paragraph.  I'm proud of myself.  Had absolutely nothing going on at first, turned it into some real C+ comedy.  By my standards, at least.  I don't know what my standards are.  Sorta just gotta feel for it.  I don't know.  In a way, losing the dollar I had is a relief.  Too much pressure trying to nurse a 1 Buy In bankroll.  Now I can get back to things I really care about-- Money Train.  It's a train with money in it.  Gotta nurse these 1000 Play Chips.  I don't want to keep re-filling like a chump.  I'm better than that.  Well, ten times so far, I'm not better than that.  This time, though, oh boy.
    Crap and crap.  I did it!  Made my way to 15.  Now the goal is 20.  I owe to myself and yourselves and other people if they even care.  100 Dollars.  I won't have to worry about my top pair top kicker running into two pair.  I'll make variance my bizzitch.  What else is going on.  I don't know.  Freerolls and crap.  Why aren't there 3 cent sit 'n gos.  It seems like there would be a huge demand for it based on my situation.  That's how I feel.  If I had sat in with that 3 cents, it'd be gone now.  Looks like I'm great at bankroll management and what not.  Yeah, but if I had won that all-in, I'd be three cents richer.  Look, we can go back and forth on how I should use my three cents all day.
    Anyway.  Sixteenth paragraph apparently.  Someone left a box of cookies on the bus when I got on.  The driver was appropriately concerned.  Finally someone still on the bus took responsibility for the cookies.  Whatta relief.  Pretty sure that's the perfect cover for some sort of bomb.  No one suspects the package of cookies.  Anyway, crap and crap.  Still need to write my poem.  The night is young, yet, though.  Many would argue it hasn't even begun.  Those guys are idiots.  Late afternoon is night.  Let's get real.
    What else and crap.  I don't know.  The real part of Poker that I blew was when I cashed in two freerolls concurrently to make my temporary bankroll.  Really fucked up at the two final tables.  Could have had twice the amount I ended up with.  Oh well, live and learn.  Probably not learn.  it's hard to hone your instincts in poker.  Each time you fuck up, you think, Can't do that next time.  By the next time comes, you'll have forgotten.  That's the nature of the game and whatnot.  The point is what else is going on.  Three more paragraphs after this one.  That's not so bad.  I can do that crap. 
    What else is going on.  I wonder who won the rap game.  My vote is for Prince of New York.  Too bad it's too late to vote.  And there was no vote.  Lots of things working against me in that one.  Stuyvesant Ten Year Reunion in a month or two.  I'd go if my One Friend went.  Just kidding.  I had a solid two or three friends.  Don't mean to brag.  Hey!  It's this guy!  That we don't know.  And always looked awkward and angry.  You morons, I wasn't angry.  Well, maybe a little bit.  I blame you, though.  What did you do to make me angry?  Think about that.  I ain't taking all the blame for this one.        
    Penultimate Paragraph!  It's about time.  Sure.  Man, the monetary value of these free roll buy ins are sure 2 or 4 cents.  Hold on lemme do that math.  10 Dollars.  700 entries. 100 entries would be 10 cents.  700 entries is 1 or 2 cents.  Hey I was right on or close enough or something one would imagine.  What else is going on.  Three cents.  Now we're cookin'.  I had zero cents a week ago.  I've increased my bankroll by infinity.  Now, let's watch Money Train.  Whatta do, whatta do.  New Freeroll starts in a minute.  And making the money would only take me three hours.  I don't wanna do this for three hours.  But I do want to make 55 cents.  Whatta conundrum.
    Anyway, let's get with the end of this crap and stuff.  I'll just go all in on the first hand.  Progress!  Ten Cent tourney is at 7:15.  Got just enough points for it.  Let's see me turn my three cents into seventeen cents.  Which is still not enough to do anything with.  Need 40 cents to sit down at the lowest stakes possible.  Oh well, live and learn.  What else and crap.  The Rap Game.  That's entertaining.  It's usually one hour but the season finale might be two.  That's a lot of hours.  Anyway.  Managed to turn this into a C- Entry.  Awesome.  The good news is what else is going on.  Oh, right.  This is the end.  See ya later.

-5:56 P.M.   
   
   

Monday, September 26, 2016

Let's Get Ready To Mumble!

    They should say that before a Rocky match.  You know, on account of Sylvester Stallone's pattern of speech?  And the thing they say before boxing matches?  Give it some time to sink in, you'll get it.  What's up party people.  Now, I know you can't send texts while driving.  That's a given.  But if someone texts you, you can reply, right?  It'd be rude not to.  Don't go out of your way, sure.  But if the occasion calls, whose to say what's right and what's wrong.  The point is what's going on party people.  Gotta write an Acrostic Poem for Wednesday.  Isn't that something you learn in fourth grade?  I feel like going from Sonnet to Acrostic is moving in the wrong direction.  That's just me.  We can use our names as the word each line spells out, we can use anything.  I'm gonna use The Uppers.  You know why?  To trick people into listening to my music.  First they gotta know you do music.  Then they gotta know how to find your music.  That's the step on.  That's only one step away from listening to your music. 
    The point is I'm moving in the right direction.  Not like that Villanelle to Acrostic nonsense.  Let's get real.  What if Kris Kross did an acrostic.  Let's get jumpin' with it.  That would be what the first letters of the poem spells out.  Kris Kross wouldn't be good as suicide prevention specialists.  Kris Kross'll make you jump.  Turns out Kris Kross is evil.  We should have deduced that from their band name.  You know, because of things, and crap?  What's going on party people.  Big debate tonight.  Keepin my fingers crossed that halfway through suddenly you hear, IF YA SMELLLLLL and Barack Obama crashes the stage.  I would have preferred Bernie, sure.  But Barack.  The Rock.  Wouldn't make sense not to. 
    Microsoft Frontpage doesn't recognize Barack as a word.  Sure it's from 2000.  But still-- racist.  I can't wait to see how racist Trump is gonna be tonight.  Really racist?  Or just moderately racist?  Only time will tell.  I'm gonna say something really obvious-- Trump's entrance music would be The McMahons/ The Corporations.  No chance, that's what ya got.  Picturing him walking up to the ring to that song makes a whole boatload of sense.  Sad about Jose Fernandez.  I'll admit, it didn't hit me that hard, but if it was like Steven Matz, I'd be feeling it that way, so I can empathize.  Maybe even sympathize.  Well, let's not go overboard.  ...Dying in a boat pun.  If I don't commit to it, but just acknowledge that its there, it's not insensitive, right?  That's how I feel.
    What's going on party people.  Also, I'm truly ashamed of this, first response to the news was-- That's good for The Mets.  Because I'm a terrible person.  If you were on the fence before, now you know definitely.  Also, is Humpty Dumpty a metaphor for Donald Trump?  Or America?  Let's get some people working on that one.  Fourth paragraph.  If I acknowledge my faults, that makes me great.  At least cancel out the terrible and makes me average.  That's fair, right?  What else is going on.  Was gonna start my Acrostic on the bus but I couldn't find my pen.  Speaking of bus--If his name was George W. Bus, I probably would have been more on board with his crap.
    Don't know 100% what that means.  Either way, what else is going on party people.  I'm pretty sure each Republican Presidential Candidate's main purpose is making the previous Republican Presidential Candidate seem more moderate.  You thought that was bad, look to see what we got cookin'!  Also, to become president and rule the way they see fit.  Can't discount that as a possibility.  Got a few dollars on Poker.  Already lost 80 cents in fifteen minutes.  That's no good.  Maybe it is.  All the highs and lows of poker.  It's no good for my fragile psyche.  Probably not.  Gotta quit playing.  Keep it as a thing for only after dinner.  That might last me a week.  The point is Party People. 
    Anyway.  I've written most of my poems in my notebook.  Maybe write this one on Microsoft Word: The Word Processor.  Whole different animal.  You know, fonts and stuff?  Great.  What else and crap.  I'm gettin' e-mails from Chelsea Clinton.  I'm not on board with that.  Leave it to the professionals, honey.  Pretty lady like you should be busy with your kid.  Kids aren't gonna raise themselves!  Well, if Clinton said, It takes a village to raise a child, a lot of people in that village are children.  Do they participate in raising their peers?  Doesn't explicitly say they can't.  Let's talk about it and whatnot. 
    I heard if Clinton becomes president, we're all gonna be living in villages.  That's a good slam for Trump to use.  Probably.  Anyway, crap and crap.  Into the seventh paragraph.  I was on the fence of whether to write today or start my poem.  I think we can all see I made the right decision.  1/2 chance, at least.  Stupid decisions, I hate them so much.  The new Simpsons last night made a joke about the Arnold Palmer drink.  Then he died yesterday.  Now, I'm not saying the writers of The Simpsons are warlocks and witches, but this certainly doesn't help their case.  Anyway, what else and crap.  If they name a drink after you, you gotta be doing pretty good for yourself.  Let's think about what The The Crazysheet would be.  Vodka and Paper?  A second thing?  A third thing?
    Anyway, what the what.  I don't know.  Don't mean to brag, but my limerick went over pretty well.  Other people's were crap.  Too many words, rhythm was all gone for half of them.  The other half thinks they're so good, I hate them so much.  Anyway.  I don't know.  Started watching The Mummy returns.  Not as good as the original.  It's almost as if the main purpose of that movie was to make money.  How dare them.  Hey, he got a new wacky sidekick cause the first one died!  Only good part.  Can't get me enough of some wacky sidekicks.  It was a big deal The Rock was in the movie at the time.  He was just a wrestler.  Now he's Mr. Hollywood.  Also, the best thing Tom Green has ever done was calling his co-host Hollywood Humplik.  That's the kind of nonsense I can get on board with.
    Crap and crap.  Creed's nickname was Hollywood.  Started out as an insult, he ran with it anyway.  That kid's got moxie, I tell ya.  He's also good at punching people in the head.  I saw a movie about it.  I watched the first half of the movie thinking Rocky directed it.  Then I checked Wikipedia and it was some other guy.  It was a lot better thinking Rocky directed it.  I mean, either way, well directed, good movie.  But just imagining Rocky did it.  The real Rocky, or Sylvester Stalolone.  Open to interpretation.  That's how I feel.  Is it because I'm racist, and the actual director turned out to be black?  No.  It's because he turned out to be 30.  What does he know about life.  I don't know anything about life and I'm only two years younger than him.
    All he knows about is making fancy shots where people are looking in the mirror and we can't see the camera.  Or prolonged sequences of boxing where there's no apparent editing and it looks really good.  I hate him so much.  When I was a kid I wanted to be a director.  You know, because I'm great at stuff?  Made sense at the time.  My hero was Milos Forman.  Now I don't even know who Milos Forman is.  Oh well, live and learn.  What else was going on.  Or is going on.  Or will be going on.  Or has not ever and will not ever be going on.  That about covers it.  Milos Forman wasn't my hero.  Let's just set that record straight.  I knew his name.  That's about it.  I don't want any anti-Milos Forman people givin' me grief, that's all.
    What else is going on.  Stupid Set making a Full House on my Flopped Straight.  I hate them so much.  Oh well, live and learn.  What paragraph is this.  Eleven.  That's good.  The way I process him hitting his full house on the river is,  Man, just imagine if that was a different card!  I'd be real happy then!  I should be happy now.  If that was a different card, I'd be justified in being happy.  That's pretty close.  Positive thinking!  Great.  Anyway.  I ended up with an entry today.  I'm in a better place than I was an hour ago.  You know, because of words?  Words said by me?  Ending up on the internet?  Being read by threes of people one would imagine? 
    Great.  Made a big fold.  AJ after one raise behind me.  Gotta wonder if that's gonna pay off in the long run.  Oh well.  What else is going on and crap.  Maybe convince my brother to give me 100% on Poker for my birthday.  That's in two and a half months.  If I play my cards right, and then pun is definitely intended, I can make that last indefinitely.  Just don't get stupid like last time.  My brother is weary of this online poker crap, though.  He had difficulty cashing out.  Don't matter me none, though.  Just put up 100, transfer it to me, don't worry about it.  It's a hobby you idiots.  It's a reputable site, I'm not worried.
    Only thing that worries me is pocket Jacks facing a raise and a re-raise.  Whattado.  That kind of crap.  When I'm playing smart, I'll just call a raise with JJ+.  Let the action come to me.  When I'm playing stupid, who cares, I still got JJ+!  Time to live it up!  Anyway.  What else is going on Party People.  Wrote a pretty good palindrome last night.  Y Trap Some Emo's Party?  I'm fine with using Y as a stand in for Why.  Make things a little easier on myself.  First I thought of Some Emos.  Then I thuoght of Party Trap.  Then, bam, it just came to me.  I'm real inspired and whatnot is the point.
    Emos are teenagers who listen to indie rock.  I learned it in high school.  When I listened to indie rock.  And felt and behaved emotionally.  And hated those damn Emos.  I hate them so much.  Anyway, what else and crap.  To me, Emos were whatever white people used Xanga.  Besides me.  Everyone else.  Xanga was a thing I learned in high school.  It was a blog network service.  Just scroll through all the people in the Stuy '06 network.  Spying on people in high school had never been easier!  Not like those white people who had Xanga accounts but never posted.  They were cool.  Damn Cool Kids, I hate them so much.    
    What else and crap.  Every few months I keep bumping up the standard entry size in terms of paragraphs.  Started at 5.  Made it to 10.  Then 15.  Now it looks like I'm hovering between 15, 20, and 25.  Pretty soon, back to 15.  Then 10.  Then 5.  Then no more.  Pretty curve.  There's one person in Poetry whose really on board with my crap.  Not only sayin' great things in workshop, talkin' to me before class, but even liking the crap I say when I'm workshopping her.  You get to talk after workshop.  One thing she said was she liked my advice.  And my advice was no good.  I just hadn't said anything in a while.  Anyway, what else is Party People and crap.
    I don't know.  Four more hours!  Trumps gonna be all like, MMM, STHAH, SHAAA.  Clintons gonna be all like, HCHCH, AAAO, EOAP.  Not sure what that accomplishes. Deepest thing I've ever written on crazysheet.  You know, random letters and crap?  Back to basics.  If I'm so great at letters, I should be even greater at poems.  That's all the more letters to be great at.  Roughly the 16th paragraph.  I counted at least two or three times.  Counting is hard.  You think you got it down, but then, who knows... I don't know.  Saying I don't know in italics means I've come to terms with This is bullshit.  Anyway, crap and crap.  I got Coconut Flavored Vodka.  It's always good to try new things.  Unless you don't like those things.  Then it's bad.  Seems like roughly 50% of the time, I guess.
    Anyway.  I got no time for Chelsea Clinton.  If she's so great, why isn't she running for president?  She's probably old enough one would imagine.  What the what.  Anyway, crap and crap.  Knowing I can probably finagle a way to get 100$ on Poker in two months and a half takes some pressure off.  I can go 2 months without this crap.  Talked to the diner now offering Midnight deliveries Thursday-Saturday.  There's not a lot of options in this neighborhood for food at that time.  Yeah, because we're all Asian families!  We don't need it!  Anyway.  It's always nice, on my way back home, to see cars parked with people in them.  I've been reading these license plates forever, now I can put a face to them.  My experience, though, is people don't like you staring at them while they're in their car.
    If you didn't wanna be stared at, you shouldn't have gotten into a car!  You brought this on yourselves.  Anyway, saw a vanity license plate, Makbeth.  Reminded me of the Monkeys-Typing-Indefinitely-Will-Write-Shakespeare thing.  Monkey writing Makbeth.  So close!  You almost had it!  Damnit!!!  Oh well, what else is going on and crap.  I don't know.  A liscense plate frame that said Navy Dad.  Is that a thing?  Is that the next swing vote for this election?  Navy Dads?  Also, is he a Dad that's in the navy?  Probably not, right?  Gotta be a dad with a grown child in the navy.  He's a grown man, then.  At some point you gotta let this kid breathe.  Why do you think he joined the navy in the first place?  To get away from your overbearing crap!
    What else.  When the oceans rise because of global warming, do we gotta increase our Navy by some percent?  Got more ground to cover.  Except not ground-- the opposite of ground.  Anyway, crap the crap.  Debates should just be you have to make random sounds and if you say a word by accident you lose.  That'll bring them down to our level.  Crap and crap.  Nineteenth paragraph.  Feels like a 25'r.  I got it in me and whatnot.  The bus ride home always feels longer than the bus ride to school.  Bus ride to school, I'm all pumped up, I'm gonna talk a bunch and people'll listen to me and gain respect for me.  Bus ride home, Well, gotta make do with a whole lot of nothin' when I get home.
    That's how I feel.  Great.  Walkin' home from Bus Stop is uphill, compared to downhill the other way.  That's no good.  Walk from School To Bus, though, on the way home, is great.  Best cigarette of the day.  That's how I feel.  Great.  Last paragraph was the 19th?  That makes this the 20th.  That means five more paragraphs after this.  Gotta do something, that's how I feel.  Anyway, crap and crap.  Some may say my overused transitinoal phrases detract from the length of entry.  They're wrong, though.  Don't listen to that some. 
    Crap and crap and crap.  Get crackin' on my Acrostic.  Maybe I should do THE UPPERS SREPPU EHT.  Nice curve.  Really get people wonderin' what kind of crap this kid is up to.  I used to half-ass call my music Utility Rock.  From now on, I'm gonna commit to it.  Say it as if it's a real thing.  If they ask what it is, fine, tell 'em I made it up.  And if they nod and go Okay I know they're a lying asshole.  It's a win/win proposition when you're doing Utility Rock.  I keep doing the right things in poker and losing anyway.  That's no good.  That's not supposed to happen and whatnot.  Not with a bankroll that's 2x the buy in.  Oh well, there's always two and a half months from now.  I'm assuming.  Trump winning the presidency might bring upon the apocalypse even before he's sworn in to office.
    What else and crap.  Twenty second paragraph.  It's about time.  Clocks are about time.  No one's gonna argue with that.  I guess.  What else and crap.  Dinner in an hour or two.  Can't take that away from me.  Probably not.  I don't know why you'd want to.  What's your problem and whatnot.  I don't know.  Crap and crap, three more paragraphs after this one?  If there was two more, fine.  That's great.  Three more?  Do you know how daunting a task is Three And A Half Paragraphs of Crapdom?  Pretty daunting.  Not when you spend half a paragraph talking about paragraphs, though.
    Alright, here we go.  Lets see, crap and crap.  What else and crap.  Doubled up in poker!  This might last me a few days afterall.  Days are good.  One day, fine, that's not so bad.  Two days?  Now we're cooking.  Three or more days?  Now we're talking great.  I don't know.  Dinner'll be here in half an hour to forty minutes.  I can finish this crap by then.  And looks like I may still have a bankroll by then.  Good news all around.  Do people really need to read these paragraphs.  Screw people, I'm in it for the quantity.  Quantity is so often underappreciated in today's society.  Anyway.  Debate is on everyone's minds.  Probably.  It's on my mind.  I project what's on my mind to other people.  Saves a lot of time that woulda been spent on getting to know them.
  Alright!  Penultimate!  Which is the Hulk-style Super Hero Kal Penn turns into when the situation dictates.  Kal Penn sounds like it should be a college.  Let's talk about it!  I wonder how many Klonopins I'll need to take during the debate.  Zero?  Seven?  Only time will tell.  I've taken one Klonopin in like three months.  Don't mean to brag.  Sorta do.  Just a little bit.  Klonopin sounds like a good name for a super villain.  No justification or real reason for that, though.  Like someone the Ninja Turtles fight.  Who knows.  I remember when I was in Kindergarten I was peer-pressured into liking The Mighty Morphin' Power Rangers.
    Relevant!  Last paragraph!  I don't know.  Ended up picking the best limerick and just stickin' to that.  I feel like I made the right decision.  You know, the right limerick-based decision?  That'll come up again.  How many limericks do you think Lester Holt will say.  One?  Two?  Can't be more than two, right?  Subliminal message to the candidates-- Holt your ground.  Because words have no meaning.  That's how I feel.  I sure hope the candidates don't pull a My Fellow Americans and run on the same ticket.  Nobody's on board with that.  Still, though, it's a good way to, "Make a deal," as you do in poker.  Let's cut the odds and just team up halfway.  I don't know.  What else is going on.  Oh, right.  This is over.  See ya later.

-6:10 P.M.          

Thursday, September 22, 2016

See You In Hell, Work Week!

    I hate it so much.  What's going on world wide sports of party people.  Feels like the fourth entry in a row.  That's great.  Will it turn out that I'm burned out from all those paragraphs?  Possibly.  The point is what else.  We learned about Mark Twain today.  That guy.  The point is lets watch movies about it.  My parents are burnt out from watching election coverage.  They're fed up and dejected and don't care anymore.  What are they watching every time I come down stairs?  MSNBC.  I think there's a 50% chance they don't realize there are other channels and a 50% chance that they don't know how to change the channel.  Gotta be one of those, right? 
    What else.  We're into Fall now, boy.  It's totally after the Autumn Solstice.  It's about time.  Sure is.  One year, just for goofs, instead of setting the clock an hour back, and then back the other way six months later, let's set it back 6 or 7 hours.  Really shake things up.  God knows we need to shake things up in this whatta world.  Teacher was like, Do any of you guys know Bill Ma-hair?  His movie religuolocity?  0-2, buddy.  You're 0-2 in that question.  I still said Yes.  Just to get things moving and whatnot.  Still gotta finish my third limerick, the There once was a man from... Fuck it/Let's just say the man's from Nantucket.  Do elipsis work in a limerick?  By God, I'm gonna make them work.  Don't bring God into this.  It's your shitty limerick.  Understood.
    lI feel like that could be another one of my over-used phrases catch phrase thing.  Understood.  Probably the best comment I've gotten from a teacher ever.  Based on him understanding my own critique of my crap.  You're On To Something Here would have worked, too.  That's What I Was Thinking.  Spot On, You're Full Of Shit.  That kind of crap.  I can't believe it's Fall already.  You know what that means.  Thirteen Weeks of Fall.  Can't believe it.  I don't know.  Even though today is the end of my work week, The Rap Game isn't on until tomorrow night.  I find it very hard to reconcile these two things.  Very hard.  Also, next episode is the last episode.  I tried finding spoilers on the internet to see who won.  Nothin'.  Let's get Snowden or Assiange working on that, right?  Well, now it's too late.  We all find out tomorrow.  But months ago, man, they dropped the ball.
    Crap and crap.  Seems kind of explotive to me.  Hey, you know that thing that a very small percentage of adults aer good at?  Let's watch kids try to do it!  Who cares if one of them gets a record contract or so they claim.  Who cares if the whole point of the show is to make them look good.  Who cares if they are good.  The point is I want something else to get me through this semi-charmed kind of life.  Right?  It makes sense.  People surprised it turns out that song is about drugs.  Don't people listen to the lyrics?  You don't even need to hear the whole song.  You recognize any random couplet of the song, you get the picture.  What's the deal with things.
    Also, every other song is about drugs.  That's roughly a one in fifty chance.  Right, guy from Twilight Zone.  Maybe in The Twilight Zone all rules of math go out the window.  That's the only thing that justifies his nonsense.  I like finding out classmates went to either Queensborough or Kingsborough.  I get to brag about how my Dad teaches there.  Teaching, to most noble of professions.  That's my blood relative!  Anyway.  What is this, the fifth paragraph?  Yep.  I did the math.  You know, counting?  The most noble of subsets of math. 
    Anyway.  Mets keep losing.  Not losing ground in the wild card race, though.  Good for them.  I've always said, if you can lose without consequences, go for it.  Anyway.  Still have rice to eat tonight!  Three straight dinners of rice and moo shu pork.  The good news is by tomorrow I'm ready as fuck to eat something new.  Things work out great sometimes.  Chinese Food is the most economical of foods.  Let's talk about it.  The diner near my house gave us a card in the mail advertising a Midnight Menu, where they have burgers and shakes and some appetizers delivering between 9 P.M. and 1 A.M. from Thursday-Sunday.  I don't know what their target audience is.  If this was a college town, sure.  This town isn't a college town.  This is an 80% Asian families town.
    Oh well, we wish them the best.  I go to college and live in this town.  So maybe I'm their demographic.  Just me.  But I don't eat that late.  What am I, an animal?  Some guy offered me a pot brownie today.  You know, if I pay for it.  First, he came in early before class, any of you want to buy a brownie.  Gets into it with someone else there waiting for class, then goes to me.  You want to buy a brownie?  I'm like, N---Wait a minute... pot brownie?  Yep.  Oh, well, hmm, herr, no.  Took me three seconds to process it.  My thoughts were like this, within 3 seconds-- I used to like marijuana.  I can get away with getting this marijuana and consuming it.  I don't need marijuana right now.  Nope!  Talk about responsibility.  Or, as my teacher might say, Responabilitous.
    Gets things mixed up.  Oh well, we wish him the best.  It's a good thing I'm not a narc.  Good for the dealer.  What a degenerate low life.  Eighth paragraph.  Just googled Villanelle and it's not what I thought I was.  In fact, it's crap.  Villanelles are bullshit.  I'm gonna go with the Sonnet.  Watched some Mark Twain Impersonator doing comedy, then some Robin Williams.  While discussing the Mark Twain, he was like, See, Comedy is all about pauses.  Why did he pause.  Why is that comedy.  Then Robin Williams.  And I'm silently like, ...Wait a minute.  Contradict much?  And it wasn't on purpose to illustrate multiple ways of comedy.  He got unlucky.  He wasn't gonna show us Robin Williams, someone suggested it for some reason.  While watching, he must have been thinking. No.  Oh no.  Oh no.  People are gonna be hip to my shit. 
    Probably.  The point is what else.  I don't know.  We'll find out together.  I keep getting e-mails, pretty much daily, to donate to the website that coordinates Democratic Donations.  Not to donate to Democratic candidates.  To donate to the process which gets them the donations.  Now, every now and then, fine.  Ask for donations for yourselves, keep things moving.  That's all I get, though.  They're hoarding all the donations for themselves.  Maybe that's why shit's going to crap.  Who knows for sure.  Things are going to crap, we need you to donate to us so we can facilitate hypothetical donations to candidates.  That's politics for you I guess one would imagine.
    Anyway.  Robin Williams is dead.  Not so funny now, are you?  I'm sorry.  It's insensitive and I don't know what possessed me to imagine that it's humorous.  Probably because it's so stupid.  Apologies all around.  Who would hate Robin Williams like that.  Me.  Let me explain why.  Watching any sort of comedy with my Mom, He ain't like Robin Williams, he's the quickest, oh, I love him so much.  Love Me!  Not him!  Same with Steve Martin.  Oh, I love the original SNL cast, Steve Martin was so great.  Steve Martin was never a cast member, he just hosted a lot of times.  No, wrong.  You're definitely wrong.  I just googled it.  I'm right.  I knew I was right.  And you all doubted me.  You all being my Mom. 
    That's right, it's a real den of iniquities here.  What do words mean.  Crap and crap.  Just lit the wrong end of a cigarette.  I do that more often than most people, but I've got a justification.  If I want to take multiple brands of cigarettes with me, I'll put three or four of Brand B into the pack of Brand A.  Put them in upside down so I know which is which.  Every now and then, take a cigarette from the pack, forget I did that, and light the wrong end of the Brand B cigarette without registering what end I'm holding on to.  Comedy!  What?  I guess.  Morals, at least.  We got morals and whatnot here at crazysheet.  I learnt it from class.
    Great!  What else.  What Dreams May Come.  I like Robin Williams just fine.  More than just fine.  I decidedly like him.  But he's not the greatest.  He's no Contemporary of Mark Twain.  That's how I feel.  Second half of the class we're gonna get to 20th century humor.  We're almost there already.  I like 20th century humor.  Which is the ill advised Fox Multimedia Ice Cream brand.  Are Dippin' Dots really the ice cream astronauts eat?  Why are astronauts eating ice cream?  Shouldn't they be eating something healthy?  Apparently their gimmick is "Ice cream of the future," not, "Astronauts' ice cream."  Astronauts are the future.  Close enough in my humble abode.  What even are words.
    Crap and crap.  Thirteenth paragraph.  Who knows how long this one'll be.  I gotta stop trying to call it before I'm through writing.  For a few weeks, I got in the habit of checking Snopes daily.  Just to see what kind of crap is getting put out there.  Stopped going.  You know why?  Didn't like the pictures they were using to accompany the articles.  Obama and Clinton in unflattering poses or facial expressions.  I don't have to deal with that crap.  They got great poses and facial expressions.  I'm sick of your bullshit!  People are telling Trump that Clinton doesn't look presidential.  I want to know who these people are that keep telling Trump things.  He doesn't strike me as the guy with a lot of friends, so if people are telling him things, gotta be the same group of people over and over. 
    Anyway.  Debate on Monday.  How about that and whatnot.  A little bit scary, though.  Hopefully the takeaway from the debate is It's in the bag.  Probably it'll be, Well, both sides did what they set out to do.  And hopefully it won't be Jim Ross exclaiming, TRUMP WINS!  TRUMP WINS!  That wouldn't be a good result at all.  Anyway.  Last week or so, find it hard to commit myself to watching the whole Met game.  I gotta have it on T.V., so if and when something good happens I can rewind and watch that.  Lots of strategy going into what's playing on my T.V. when I'm not even watching it.
    Crap and crap.  What's going on.  Turns out the Comedy Class isn't as bad as I assumed it would be.  Sure, it's not as great as you would hope to be.  But it's in the middle somewhere.  Not too bad.  Poetry is great because I make people read my crap.  Sure, after I get comments, I realize, This isis pretty crap.  But that gives me the wherewithal to make the next poem better.  I figure I start off the class at a C+, end up around a B or B+, that's progress.  Think my limericks are solid B's.  Anyway, what else is going on and crap.  Bought coconut flavored vodka today.  I don't think I've ever had that.  The closest I've come is for a while I would get the coconut flavor in my iced coffee.  But that's a whole different animal.  I'll see ya later.

-5:21 P.M.

Wednesday, September 21, 2016

I Got This And Whatnot

    Me and my titles, am I right.  Will I ever learn.  Learn what.  I can learn stuff.  Just give me a chance.  I'll learn about Pangaea or what comes after quadrupled or Microwaves.  I'll learn it all!  Got three grades back.  A-, Check Plus, and A-.  Apparently he grades on a scale from Check Minus to Seven.  Morals.  I stuck with the two limericks I wrote last entry but polished them up a bit.  Because that's the kind of man I am.  What's going on in the wide world of sports.  Tim Tebow in the minor leagues.  If I was a teammate of his, I'd be like, What's your name.  Tim Tebow.  NNever heard of him.  You mean me.  What's your name?  That's a skit.  If you have a class of UCB Sketchwriter Students performing a skit, roughly three of them will be terrorists.  Morals!
    What a clunker.  In my short letter to teacher about what I did to revise my poem, I pretty much said, This poem is really clunky, but I tried to emphasize the good parts.  He underlined really clunky and wrote Understood.  Now we're talking great teacher.  There's an article about a woman with Cerebral Palsy in today's times.  It turns out I'm the limerick version of Nostradamus.  It's about time I figured out who I was.  Now that I know who I am, we know who you are.  The guy who what reads this crap and whatnot.  That sums that up.  Gotta write a Sonnet or a Villanelle for Monday.  I can do that.  I'm great at doing stuff.  I'm a solid B+ at doing stuff.  You know, roughly a 5.5?  Upper Middle Check Class.
    As a grade, he should write, Be Nonplussed.  And I'll be like, ... so just a B, then?  Wordsmanship!  Whatta world.  Mark Twain's less famous contemporaries got nothin' on me!  One of the ones we read was some guy who was like the chief justice on the supreme court but in his spare time he wrote comedy.  If you can even call it comedy.  I don't come to where you work and bang gavels and whatnot.  I have noticed, though, that in has absence, Supreme Court these days haven't been so funny.  There are good moments but overall kind of a clunker.  Ha, Bush V. Gore.  Bush wins.  Whatta practical joke.  Maybe they were being sarcastic.  And it just went over all our heads.  You know, like they did politically when they chose a president instead of counting the votes?   
    Morals from 16 years ago!  If Trump was runnin against Gore, he'd be like,  I hear people are telling me that Al Gore, not only is a robot, but is the SkyNet that Terminator predicted.  That's what people tell me.  And it'd work.  Crap and crap.  Trump taking money from his charity to pay for bullshit.  Wha, buh... wuh?  You can't do that.  "This is charity, it's going to a very worthy cause.  Me you Assholes."  Can't argue with that.  You can try.  I can write a good sonnet.  Each assignment I try to raise my game a bit.  You know, roughly .3 of a grade?  Whatever.  What else.  Twenty five paragraphs yesterday.  Was it worth it?  I don't know, worth what?  I just confused myself.  I don't know what's going on.
    Opportune time to start a new paragraph.  When the last paragraph's ending confused me into submission.  I don't know anymore.  My head keeps thinking in limericks.  What have I gotten myself into!!  Limerick Writing Mode.  That'll pay off sooner or later I guess.  Why, if I was one of the premier limerick writers, I can make upwards of twenty, thirty dollars.  What else is going on and crap.  I keep having dreams I have the money and permission from my parents to put money back on Online Poker.  I guess I don't need my parents' permission.  I am roughly almost 28.  Couldn't hurt, though!  We share our money, it's one big pool.  I once heard It Takes a Village to Raise a Child.  And also, A Child Shall Show Them The Way.  And also, There once was a man from... Fuck It.  Let's just say the man's from Nantucket.  Three more lines.
    What else and crap.  I like that start.  We didn't get to Limericks today, we will next week.  I can use that.  We're only supposed to have one, but right now, I have two.  Three would be a nice round number.  You want one, you get two, what's that.  You want one, you get three, Oh okay I get it.  The check plus I got was for my Haikus.  His main criticism was crossing out my title and saying Haikus don't have titles.  Oh boy, you've done it now.  You've hit my sore spot right on the head.  No titles?  What do you think this is, Nazi Italy?!  If so, make sure to take the train.  I heard they run on time!
    What a shitty Great Thing to be noted for.  Mussolini made the trains run on time!!!  Was there a huge problem in Italy before Mussolini that trains were never on time?  Did that problem consume the national consciousness so much?  If only we can get these trains running on time.  Anyway.  Now, Donald Trump may have fascist elements to his campaign and agenda, but at least he's not threatening to make trains run on time.  He acknowledges trains are working pretty well.  Trains was Obama's first thing as president, right?  Let's get some trains goin'.  Decent way to start off.  No one's gonna argue with trains.
    What else and crap.  Eighth paragraph.  I have stupid Moo Shu Pork and white rice again tonight.  I told myself yesterday, don't get Chinese Food.  You don't wanna be burdened by rice.  Did it anyway.  Some folks never learn.  Folks like me.  Why wouldn't they.  Anyway.  I know it's a common trope to talk about What if they cloned Hitler?  To be honest, I'm not worried about it.  Hitler's Clone, most likely, would be like, Some guy with my DNA  DID WHAT?  Great.  Hey, lets defend Hitler's DNA.  I don't know whether or not to.  It's a real brain buster.
    Let's see, guess I'll aim for 15 paragraphs today.  It makes sense and whatnot.  Bought a new Metrocard today.  That's always a highlight.  Saw my Therapist-Doctor today.  She's on board with my crap.  All therapist-people are.  I got shit on lock down.  No serious problems here for now.  Not this month.  I should have ust eaten Tostidos for dinner last night.  Then I wouldn't be in the mess I'm in now.  Crazysheet is brought to you by Tostidos-- Buy Them For Food!  Don't know what else you freaks would be doing with nachos.  I eat 'em.  Not-Yo-Cheese!  That's a pun worthy of the Supreme Courter who doubles as comedy.  My favorite pun like that is Socialist.  Show-CIA-List!  Of socialists.  That's almost Mark Train level, let's get real.
    Tenth paragraph!  I thought the day would never come.  I don't know why we have to eat Moo Shu pork by making the puzzle our selves.  Wrap it up in a pancake, that's the premise.  1)-- Why can't you wrap it up in a pancake.  2)-- why do we even need this thin, tasteless pancake?  Let's use forks.  3)--- how dare you.  What else is going on.  Crap and crap.  I'm so desperate for movies to kill time I re-watched Hope Springs.  A movie for elderlies.  And I had already seen it in the theaters!  Isn't that enough!  How did Meryl Streep go from being a leading romantic actress for middle aged people to being a leading romantic actress for elderly people.  We didn't appreciate Meryl Streep's youth when we had the chance.  Now that's all over now.  Meryl Streep Throat.  It's a cross between Deep Throat and Strep Throat. 
    Supreme Court Justice me, please.  I feel like I would get bipartisan support in the senate.  Folks like me, we already established that.  I promise to always rule in the opinion that is funniest.  Mix things up a bit.  Talkin' to a friend before class, goin' on about how she works full time and takes classes all the time.  I couldn't wait to jump in and go, Yeah, I don't have to do any of that.  Insensitive?  Maybe.  But here's the thing-- I like saying things.  Besides, I could only nod in the service of feigning interest so long.  Sayin' stuff mixes that up a bit.  Coulda been like, What do you want ME to do about it? ... ... Wait, do you want me to do something about it?  Let's see if it's feasible.
    That's how that might go.  Four paragraphs to go.   Trains runnin' on time.  Talk to me when you get busses running on time.  I got no time for this crap.  Nantucket in the second line?  I never heard of such a thing!  That's how that might go ideally.  I've said it before, but I'm terrible at reading poems.  I can go over it ten times, and then halfway through workshopping them, finally I see the narrative, and feel stupid for not seeing it before.  I just read at a different rhythm or something than most people.  Maybe I'm just used to things with no narrative on account of this bullshit.  So it doesn't even register.  Stupid crazysheet, I hate it so much.  I don't hate it.  It's one of my favorite things.  That's how I feel.
    Crap and crap!  Three to go.  Stupid rice, I hate it so much.  Last night I was watching The Simpsons episode that inspired the I hate it so much crap I say over and over.  Homer goes, I can go to the sea!  The sea is all forgiving!  Not like those mean old mountains, I hate them so much.  Incorporated it into my website lexicon.  Lexicon is where nerds gather to worship Lex Luthor.  Because I like saying D- jokes.  It makes me happy.  That comes from Spiderman 3.  Spiderman goes to Venom/Eric Forman "You gotta get rid of it (The Venom) it's no good for you!"  And he goes, "I don't want to get rid of it for some reason.  I like being bad.  It Makes Me Happy."  Those are two things I say for some reason.
    What else.  What's Eric Forman's real name.  I wanna say Tobey Maguire, but I've process of elimination'd it out because he's The Spiderman.  Oh, right.  Topher Grace.  Same first letter of first name.  You can see how I'd get confused.  You can't get busses running on time.  There's too many variables.  Not busses with lots of stops.  Maybe like a long distance bus, with no stops in-between, you can approximate pretty well.  I don't know.  I rescind myself from this issue.  I don't know anymore.  What else and crap.  I've been up for a good nine hours.  Well, I don't know about good.  Maybe three or four hours were good.  That's how I feel.
    Anyway.  Entry windin' down.  Comedy Class tomorrow.  Weekend after that.  Got a lot of stuff coming up is the point.  What else and crap.  Still haven't read all the classmates comments on the poem I workshopped.  I don't have time for that nonsense.  Better just imagining they all liked it.  The point is let's watch El Mariachi.  That's the movie that inspired me to play guitar.  And unwittingly become an outlaw or something.  I don't have all the details as I haven't watched it in over a decade.  Anyway.  I'll see ya later.

-5:22 P.M.    

Tuesday, September 20, 2016

This Entry'll Be Great One Would Imagine!

    I don't have all the details yet.  Let's see how it plays out.  What's going on wide world of sports.  Entered a raffle to attend the first debate next week.  That would be off the chain.  Lots of fun stuff I can do.  Start a USA!  USA!  USA! change after every question.  Well, after two questions.  After two sentences they'll probably throw me out.  If I'm lucky.  If I'm unlucky they'll put me in a headlock that renders me unconscious until after the election. Wait, that sounds pretty lucky to me.  Alright, let's go.  You heard the man-- time to induce a coma with a wrestling move!  The man?  I'm talking about me.  I'm grammatically fucking shit up.  I don't know.  Need a limerick for tomorrow's class.  I've got a doctor appointment early in the morning so that opens up a few hours of free time before class that I'll actually be awake for, giving me the choice of putting it off till then.
    Choices!  Great!  Throw a shoe at Donald Trump.  That's the last thing that Bush did while he was still president, right?  Some guy threw a shoe at him?  A fitting way to close an eight year long dark chapter of American History.  I think, apparnetly, wherever he was, I wanna say some Middle Eastern country, throwing a shoe is the ultimate insult.  I could be thinking of that Austin Powers movie where the guy throws shoes.  Real life, Austin Powers movie, whose to say.  Not me.  Whenever my Dad refers to me phone, he calls it a Smart Phone.  Make sure your smart phone is on.  Sure, he's correct, it is a smart phone.  You don't need to say it every time.  Just say phone. 
    Families, am I right?  Ripe for parody!  There ought to be legitimate services that do your homework for you.  High school, college, whatever.  Just pay them a pretty hefty fee, they deserve it.  Then you don't have to do crap until you get a job.  And then you can pay someone to do the work for your job.  Pay them roughly the same amount as you're getting paid.  Makes sense to me.  Let's see, words, words.  Apparently Mark Twain was Punderful.  Spent a whole class talking about puns today.  We were reading some real crap puns, though.  Forced ones that aren't even good.  Pun technology has really advanced in the last two centuries. I think it's unequivocally been the main advance our species has made lately.  Do I know what unequivocally means, exactly?  Probably not.  Let's talk about it.
    I'm in such a habit of giving comments in class I even give comments when I don't know.  Just guessing.  In my mind, it's good for the class, he asks a question, no one is responding, after ten seconds I'll guess.  Just to get things moving.  I'm doing a great service probably.  I'll also interupt the teacher to say things myself.  Someone gives a comment, he starts to reply, I jump in.  Leave it to Mike.  Say probably the same thing he was gonna say.  But this way I get to talk.  Talk!  You know what that means.  People have to listen to me.  That's alright with me.  Ran into someone on the bus.  Hey Michael, how's it going.  Hey!  Not Much!  I don't know who you are.  I wanna say someone from my Poetry class, but I don't know that for sure.  I can't commit to that theory right off the bat, gotta keep things ambiguous.   Assuming she's a classmate from that class is a risk I'm not willing to take.
    Oh well.  Fifth paragraph.  Did you write a limerick yet... that is, if that's the kind of thing you're into.  That would have worked.  If she's in my class, great, she had the same assignment as me.  If not, works either way, just asking a peer if she's written a limerick lately.  As one does.  I get really territorial when it comes to getting seats on the bus.  I go into survival mode.  A seat pops up, I'm in it.  For old people and ladies, I give 'em a three to five second window.  I'm okay with that.  But if they take too long to make a decision, fuck it, let someone sit who really appreciates the seat.  Anyway.  I used to be really good at riding the subway.  On the way to Stuy, you get on the two or three, literally packed subways, beyond capacity.  You wanna ride in one, you gotta live with standing in the middle, with nothing to hold on to.  And those rides can get bumpy.  Just gotta learn to balance, sway with the movement, bend your knees.
    Pretty much the main thing I was good at in high school.  The point is What Else.  Can't find the Meet The Parents DVD.  Great, life just keeps getting worse and worse.  And another thing, Why don't I have The Mummy Returns.  All I remember is that he returns.  And The Rock shows up at some point probably.  Four More Years!  Four More Years!  Another thing to chant.  I can come up with some better things to chant.  I got about a week to work on my disrupting-chant strategy.  Anyway, what else.  Obama'll be personally insulted if we don't vote for Hillary.  I don't want to insult Obama.  Obama is our friend.  That's how I feel.  What else and crap.
    What else and crap.  I don't know.  I don't want to watch Big Fish.  You can't make me.  Is it a great Father Son movie?  Possibly-- I don't remember.  A Father Son movie, for sure.  Great?  One would imagine it's pretty good, but there's no way of knowing for sure.  The Cat Stevens song Father & Son is a great  Father's Son movie.  That was supposed to be nonsensical, but I've seen the video for it.  If I remember it's a Grandfather's Daughter Movie.  That's no good.  It's called Father and Son.  Where does Spike Jonze get off.  Morals!  I don't know.  Getting Even With Dad.  What else is going on.  Three paragraphs to go and whatnot.
    Crap.  Are Diet Coke and Coors made from the same company.  The cans look exactly te same.  Grey background and red and white font.  Also, CO starts the letters for both.  Conspiracy!  The good news is what else and crap.  I've been playing guitar for eleven years and I still don't know whether it's pronounced Cap-oh or Cape-oh.  I wanna say Cap-Oh.  Don't know for sure, though.  Wait ten seconds and then guess.  Just to get things moving.  Now I kind of want to say Cape-Oh.  Whatta world.  During critiquing my poem yesterday, which was about a song, someone was like, I play guitar, I'm sure not as good as Michael...  Shoulda gone You're Fucking Right You're Not As Good As Me.  But I stayed silent.  First they came for the guitar players, then they came for the song writers... and so on and whatnot and then they came for me.
    Huh?  Probably.  I'll tell you what doesn't apply!  Sometimes my liver hurts.  That's no good.  I just assume it's my liver.  I don't know the placement of organs 100%.  Organs are pretty good.  You mean to tell me I can smoke for 30 years and the odds are I won't get lung cancer?  That's pretty good.  I can drink for thirty years and still, odds are, nothing?  Organs are much better than we give them credit for.  Walking to QC, a guy comes up to me, Can You Spot Me A Dollar?  I said No, but I shoulda been like, Okay, So When Are You Gonna Pay Me Back?  Spot means lend, right?  In an ideal world.  So let's get crackin' on proper responses.  Let's see, crap and crap.
    One more paragraph.  I need to get a Smart T.V.  See Dad at dinner.  What have you been doing, watching your Smart T.V.?  Needless adjectives!  We don't need 'em!  USA!  USA!  USA!  United is an adjective.  We don't need it.  We're The States of America.  Are we united?  Sure, why not.  Are there any other kinds of States of America?  No!  We can chant U S!  U S!  U S!  U S!  See, we fit in one whole more givin' up the A.  We do say U S sometimes, you're supposed to take away the U.  Okay, wait, hold on.  Lemme process that.  Okay, here we go--  S A!  S A!  S A!  S A!  There we go and whatnot.  I feel like writing more paragraphs for some reason.
    I hate it when I talk to myself in bold because I've already been using italics.  Bold is no good.  Bold is only a last-ditch solution.  What else.  I got a bottle of water to drink during class.  That's no good.  You get water at free for home.  Nows the time to mix things up.  That reminds me of a good idea I had-- start your own bottled water company.  It's all profit.  Except for the bottles.  You just start bottlin' water, you can churn out let's say a hundred a day.  Every two weeks, sell 1500 bottled waters to people who need it.  Nice, easy money.  Unless you live in Flint.  If you do that in Flint, suddenly you're a terrorist.  Sure, no one in a world with adequate running water would need it.  There are people who live without that, though.  They'll take your sink water.  If you have a filter, even better.  One time cost and it makes your water that much better.
    I'm full of great ideas.  Like that one, and other ones, one would imagine.  I think people in my Poetry class are taking my lead and using rhyme wily-nily.  In my poems, I got lots of rhyme, but it doesn't follow any format, not always at the end of the line, it just shows up uninvited each every where all around.  Noticing that in classmates poems, now.  Didn't see it before.  The point is Trendsetter.  Limerick for tomorrow.  Nows my time to shine.  Every poem is my time to shine.  I feel like I could shine pretty well all over the place all around.

I tried to write a good limerick
But each rhyme was only a gimmick
It had no deeper meaning
Than the words you are seeing
Now I kinda feel like a sandwich

    Kinda bailed on it at the end there.  Three more paragraphs and whatnot. 

Limericks have a cool rhyme scheme
And it's the diction that makes them surprising
I'm self referential
Because that makes me feel special
This is as good as it gets without trying.

    Yeesh.  Three paragraphs to go.  I can see myself handing in one of those two.  Minus the sandwich, at least.  I liked the sandwich.  Yeah, but other people wouldn't.  Just gotta see if they're close enough to the accented/unaccented syllables and crap.  I feel like I've had to learn accented/unaccented stuff for poems in at least four or five classes and I still don't really get it.  Oh well.  Is it still Monday.  No, it's Tuesday.  That's pretty cool.  Tuesdays and whatnot.  Well, this entry is almost in the books.  A little bit more than two paragraphs to go.  Knocked that shit almost out of the park but the batter ended up on third based on a double and an error.  Was gonna be a double, but the centerfielder misplayed it, runner ends up on third.  Hey, you take what you can get.
    Probably.  It's been twelve years or so and I still get prematurely confused when they say the Mets opponent hit it into right.  Right field, or David Wright?  I don't actually reach the point of confusion, but each time, I thank God that I figured it out intuitively which one it is.  Morals!  Issues!  Crap!  I don't know, whatever.  In my Video Baseball Game, you create a player, and only play the plays they're involved on.  Created a Right Fielder.  You play in the field during that time, you see that the right fielder is playing on the left side from his point of view.  Morals!  Ripe for parody!  Crap!
    One more to go!  Did it hardcore today.  I'm not very good at getting jumps on the ball.  See it hit, wait a few seconds, let's see where this is going.  You can't commit to running immediately, what if you go in the wrong direction.  That's a risk I'm not willing to take.  Better play it cool.  I don't know.  Can this be a 20 paragraph'r?  Probably not.  Will go over 15, though.  That's how I feel for some reason.  Probably get my blood test results from Endocrinologist this week.  Can't wait.  Do I have high cholesterol?  I don't know!  Can't wait to find out!  It's like a really shitty Christmas.  That's how I feel.
    Crap and crap.  If I'm ever a filmmaker, and have to make a movie about Christmas, A Really Shitty Christmas is definitely the way to go.  That's how I feel.  So I'm prepared if that ever happens.  What else and crap.  Here is the beginning of a mediocre joke-- Taco Bell- Live Mas.  Christmas.  You figure it out.  Morals!  Crap and crap.  Is it a good idea to have a first date for Fourthmeal?  I base all my dates around marketing gimmicks.  Or, at least I would.  :-(.
    Crap and crap.  Four paragraphs to go.  I can do that hardcore probably for some reason.  That could be the first time I've used a derivative of a smiley face, ever, on crazysheet.net.  Talk about making progress.  It's an interesting subject.  I don't know.  Jeez.  Alright, let's knock the rest of the entry out of the park.  For real this time.  Let's see, what else and crap.  Paragraphs, huh?  I can do that.  I have a pretty good track record of doing paragraphs.  Donald Trump would be our first obese president in a while.  Hillary Clinton would be our first woman president in a while.  I wanna say ever.  First Clinton president in a while.  There we go and whatnot.
    Three to go!  How exciting and whatnot.  You know what finishing an entry means-- lying in bed!  I've deserved it and whatnot.  Last night I slept on the bed in the opposite direction.  It was a fun experiment and I don't regret it in the slightest.  I think halfway through the night I switched to regular direction, though.  That's how I woke up.  Oh well, live and learn.  Whenever I empty my ashtray into the garbage, I go Hmm, hope nothing's lit in here.  Eh, probably not.  Could I take the three seconds to check?  No!  I don't have that kind of time.  Better just to get it over with and hope for the best.  The best being my room not catching on fire. 
    Two to go!  These paragraph introductions are getting kind of predictable.  I can't lie in bed now.  I've quadrupled + 1 up in freeroll poker. ... kay now back to quadrupled.  Rubles are Russian Currency.  Let's talk about it.  There was an article in the New York Times that I didn't read, but based on the title, I got the impression that it was about, Eh, Terrorists Will Tire Themselves Out Sooner Or Later.  Funny.  I'm on board with that.  Better than a headline, Run For Your Lives!  Shits Gonna Get Even Worse!  That wouldn't be a good sign.  I don't know, crap and crap.  The point is I might have just inadvertently done my homework.
    Alright, here we go and whatnot.  If I cash in the Freeroll, I'll have enough to sit in at a .01/.02 cent table.  Then, on to riches!  Then, onto losing it and then onto Freerolls!  I need a new hobby.  One that isn't lying in bed.  What else and crap.  If Steven Matz gets uninjured, that's not so bad.  A top 3 of Syndergaard, Matz, Colon is pretty good.  With a wildcard thrown in for the fourth spot.  Logically, each day I watch one or two movies, I'm running out of movies to watch.  There's only a finite amount of movies.  Yeah, but each week, three or four come out in the theaters. Still a net loss for the week!  I'm at a net loss for words.  Extra paragraph.
    Blackjack and whatnot.  I wanna watch Blair Witch II: Return Of The Movie in the nice theater between here and Queens College.  Nice sofa seats, fun movie to see with an audience.  It's a good plan and I just might see it through.  Hang out in front of the theater on a bench glancing at the Hooter Girls every seven seconds.  Drink a beer covertly.  Great experience all around.  I gotta keep playing poker.  Might as well keep writing entry.  Somehow I got in the habit of only smoking half a cigarette On Way To Bus.  I can probably finish a whole one, but just don't feel like it.  Rub it off against a bench or statue of a gargoyle or whatever, put it back in the pack.  Great cigarette strategy, not gettin' rid of your half cigarettes.  Conservation!
    Conversation!  What else.  I don't know how much more I got in me.  Can you spot me a dollar.  How about two cigarettes instead?  I don't smoke.  Well it's about time you started!  Morals and whatnot.  Let's move on.  I have 10K chips.  You need roughly 50-60K to cash.  I got a 2/11 chance!  I can't give up on that now.  I need that 55 cents for Free Time Strategy.  Gettin' to play with it and whatnot.  25 paragraphs would be enough.  I like nice, round numbers.  Makes me feel good inside.  What else and crap.  I don't know.  I'm an idiot.  Gotta set goals for oneself, though.  25 paragraphs in a day, now that's a lofty goal.  I achieve that, I gotta be doing something right.
    Three to go!  What to eat for dinner tonight.  So many choices!  You know, roughly 20 or so.  Italian Food, Diner Food, Chinese Food.  Say roughly seven choices I rotate through per menu.  That's a lot of choices.  I don't wanna get Chinese Food.  I can't commit myself to eating all that rice.  Sure, rice is good, but all that rice?  Can't do it.  Whatever I get, I'm gonna have to commit two meals to.  Tonight and tomorrow.  Only ordering for myself, gotta order enough for them to deliver.  What crap.  Same thing two nights in a row?  Is there any greater punishment on God's Green Earth?
    My guess?  Probably.  Either way, what else and crap.  Writing 25 paragraphs makes me realize how pointless this is.  Well, I had to figure it out sometime.  Am I still gonna write?  Yeah!  It makes me feel productive.  Really contributing to humanity and whatnot.  Even if I'm way off.  You can't argue with a feeling.  Probably not.  I feel like I've heard that before, must be true.  There's a lot of things you can't argue with.  A washing machine.  A baby.  A cloud.  You get the drift.  What else.  Now I'm roughly 3/10 chance of cashing.  I like those odds.  Better than the odds if I didn't play at all.
    Can't argue with that. You can't argue with lots of things.  A glass of orange juice.  A notebook.  A pillow.  Anyway, I guess this'll be the last paragraphs.  I've gone above and beyond my call of duty.  Ha.  Duty.  Pun worthy of Mark Twain's less famous contemporaries.  Apparently Mark Twain wanted to be a cocaine dealer.  Thought he'd go down to South America, get some of that Coca plant, bring it up to America.  As far as get-rich-quick schemes, selling cocaine is probably more on the logical, actually potentially working end of things.  I guess.  I'll see ya later and crap.

-6:02 P.M.     

Monday, September 19, 2016

To Pee Or Not To Pee?

    That is the question.  Well, a question.  I'd rank a lot of questions higher than that in terms of having the esteemed honor of being the question.  Anyway, assignment for Wednesday-- Limerick!  What fun.  Here's one I thought of on my way home--

There once was a man from Beirut
He wrote limericks designed to be cute
He had nothing to say
They critiqued anyway
Now I suppose the whole thing is moot.

    Figure I get around five different ones, get to pick the best.  Onward and upward, I always say.  Hah.  Beirut.  It sure is a funny word.  If only I knew what it meant.  I guess that's how we're starting the entry.  How about--

There once was a man from Beirut
IT WAS ME ALL ALONG SURPRISE
...

    Not quite following the format.  We'll put that in the maybe pile.  Anyway, what else is going on.  We went over my poem today.  Comments were spot on!  Spot on.  Except half of them were critiquing things I had thought were good.  Ambiguity is good, you idiots.  Life is ambiguous.  Ya'll need some real world experience.  Or at least listen to that Jimi Hendrix album.  That qualifies as life experience because of the title.  You know, crap and crap?  But another comment that we discussed was legitimate and now I know how to be a better person all around.   Anyway, I don't know.  All that counts as one paragraph.
    Second paragraph!  Presidential Race is heating up.  Not unlike the Earth.  Issues!  That's a good issues for Debate.  Donald Trump flat out denies climate change.  Will he switch it up, or stay on that sinking ship.  Climate change'll increase the amount of sinking ships.  What with all that water from the ice caps.  Issues!  I for one welcome our new ocean overlords.  Anyway, crap and crap.  Let's get into the entry and whatnot.  Limerick!  Then, next week, holy shit, villanelle.  I've been waiting all semester to write a villanelle.  THe main assignment is a sonnet, but he said, if we dare, we can write a villanelle.  I dare, I dare!  I forget what a villanelle is for now but I remember them being great.
    I don't know.  Who does know.  Peeing, ideally, is rarely a decision.  Either you're compelled to go, or you're not.  Sure, you can pee for strategy.  Especially as you get older and need to a lot.  You pee for strategy before you go somewhere.  That's great.  What else.  The poem I wrote was essentially about a long crush/flirtation I had, but the people in my class thought it was about a legitimate relationship.  Ha!  Relationship!  Me!  You Don't Know Mike!  They probably just think, He's forty or something, must have had something going on at some point.  Kids.  I'm one of only two males in the class.  Gotta represent and whatnot. 
    Crap and crap.  I keep heavily considering getting my guitar fixed.  I come to the conclusion I need to do it pretty much every day.  But then, as the day dies, and the sun disappears, and nighttime takes over like an unruly bladder, I forget the pact I had made with myself ever so something, and it keeps getting delayed.  Man I'm great at poetry.

There once was a man from Nantucket
I don't know where is Nantucket
Someone tell me please
I'm down on my knees
Also what's a word that rhymes with Nantucket.

    You know, that sort of crap.  I don't know.  Apparently there's a more exact syllable/accents on syllables/things I don't fully understand to limericks.  That's just great.  Lemon and lime ricks.  Knocked that one out of the park.  Man, what a metaphor.  It just came to me, you know?  I can't explain it.  Still some DVDs I have that I can mine for decent hour and a half-two hour killers.  The Mummy last night.  I hadn't seen that movie in a dog's age.  And you know what?  I watched it.  Great.  I've watched a lot of DVDs in my time, and not one of them had made use of the multiple-camera-angle option.  I wanna multiple-camera-angle watch it up!  Makes me feel useful.  I guess I'll just settle for the zoom button.  Zoom in some, man, now I'm focusing on this part of the screen!  I'ma move it to the left a little bit!  Wow!
    Keep thinking about watching with subtitles in French.  That's how you learn.  I figure I can learn all the language I need to learn by watching The Mummy and Ghostworld.  Probably, one would imagine.  I don't get why The Mummy is such a bad guy.  In the intro, he seemed like a decent guy when he was alive.  Had a relationship with the Pharaoh's wife, that's kind of uncool, but they were in love.  Didn't do anyone any harm maliciously.  Now that he's back, he wants to Fuck Shit Up for everyone?  Doesn't ring true.  Also, you remake The Mummy, give the audience what they want.  Just a guy wrapped in bandages spooking people out.  No need for all this action.  Just give me a guy in bandages walking around and surprising people while they're making love.
    Don't know how I got there.  The good news is what else.  Roughly the seventh paragraph.  I can deal with that.  Still, though, comments were spot on.  I could work to make it less ambiguous, or figure out a way to make the ambiguity palatable.  Work on the chronology of the thing.  Gotta hand in a revision next week.  I'll probably just change the order of the stanzas and call it a day.  That's the thinking man's solution.  Looks like, barring a collapse, Mets probably makin' the Wild Card game.  I don't know if that counts as Playoffs or not.  It's a play-off.  Logically speaking.  I guess it's the playoffs, then.  Let's get real.
    I don't know.  I gotta work on the chronology.  Having a finished poem that doesn't follow time correctly can rip a hole in the time-space continuum.  Lots of things can rip holes in the time-space continuum.  We need to be extra careful and whatnot.  That sort of thing.  There was a professor sitting in on our class today.  I can only assume because he heard how awesome my poem was.  I'm not 100% on what Beirut is.  I want to say a location.  Hell, if I wanna say it, I'll say it.  It's a location.  I feel so much better now.  II watched Down To Earth today.  It's a good movie.  It got terrible reviews.  But it's a good movie.  I liked the parts where Christ Rock made me laugh.   
    Anyway.  That's my new thing.  Watch a movie or two a day, look 'em up on wikipedia.  Get the fully interactive immersive experience.  Like listening to a Jimi Hendrix album.  I know two Jimi Hendrix songs.  The one where it's all funky, you know the one.  It has that one chord that's sort of a 7 version of the chord.  You know what I mean.  There's the other one that he stole from Bob Dylan.  If I do get my guitar fixed, I can take the next step and get a guitar teacher.  Learn how to play music out of my guitar, you know?  Playing noise out of my guitar hasn't really paid off.  Teacher'll ask you what you hope to gain out of learning guitar, what's your goal, to help them help you get there.  Look, just make me better than Jimi Hendrix.  You have three months.
    I don't know why I had to qualify it with three months.  As if I could become better than Jimi Hendrix after two years.  Gotta take three or four years, at least.  I don't know.  What else and crap.  Peeing Strategy.  Where does I come up with this stuff?!  You know, it comes from real life.  Morals!  Anyway.  Monday.  A whole week of school left.  You know, three days?  That's no good.  I can't focus on a movie 100% with an hour and fifteen minutes of class the next day hanging over my head.  That's no good.  I don't know.  Crap and crap.  I'm pretty sure Jimi Hendrix uses the word Purple at some point.  Music scholar!
    Anyway.  He took the school-yard challenge of rhyming a word with purple and ran with it!  Sure, he doesn't rhyme with purple.  But he uses it in a song.  Songs are rhyming.  That's how I feel, at least.  School-yard challenge.  Where do I get off.  I don't know.  It's highly probable that all the girls in my class are attracted to me but don't want to show it because they're self-conscious of showing it because of how much their compatriots like me-- probably even more than they do if that's possible.  That's how I feel.  Next paragraph is the 12th.  I got that going on for me and whatnot.  I'm sick of writing about my own experiences.  I'm flat out of experiences.  I had seven or eight and now I'm done. 
    Crap and crap.  Out of all the movies I've watched on DVD over the past two months, my one favorite line of dialogue is, The Ugly is in Army Jail with The Bad being in charge there.  He thinks The Bad is his friend, he offers him some delicious meal.  The Bad goes, do you mind the Army Jail people playing music while you eat?  The Ugly goes, Yes, very good, that's good, very good for the digestion.  Music is good for the digestion.  Now I know.  It's good to know things and whatnot.  Don't trust him, he's gonna trap your hand in something or something!  Oh well.  I hate it when I can't make a decision between two things and I flip a coin to decide.  Always get the answer I didn't want. 
    I don't know.  If it doesn't feel right, you know that the other one is what you want.  Yeah, but then I'd be going against the whole process.  I have to commit to something that makes what I just did null and pointless.  I don't have it in me to besmirch the sanctity of a coin flip.  Now I don't know what to do.  That's a thing, I guess.  I was watching a 1980's Twilight Zone and it involves playing cards, they know 9 cards in play, including 3 sixes, and then there's the tenth card, and if it's a six, that decides who wins the hand.  One seasoned poker player to another-- It can't be a six!  That's a one in a million shot!  Pretty sure it's one in forty three.  I crunched the numbers and everything-- you know, within the span of two seconds?  And you call yourself an actor.
    What else.  Could it be 42, or 44?  I don't know-- maybe.  But I'm much closer than that one in a million nonsense.  And you call yourself a character in a shitty T.V. show.  Oh well.  My DVD shelf is taunting me.  Pretty soon, you're going to have to watch  Meet The Parents.  Pretty Soon!  Any Day Now!  Getting Closer!  I hate my DVD shelf so much.  Fourteenth paragraph, roughly.  Limericks mucked things up a bit.  Oughtta have a third Limerick within the rest of the entry.  I come prepared.  Except, without following precise Limerick Rules.  I don't have it in me to study up on them right now.  Busy writing bullshit, that sort of thing.  I don't wanna watch Meet The Parents!  Anything but that!
    That sort of thing.  The moral is Let's make fun of adequate movies!  Moral'd it.

There once was a man from Iran
He had a devious nuclear plan
He said he would bomb me
If I even looked at him funny
And that's where Economic Sanctions come into play

    Kinda bailed on it at the end.  Oh well, rules are made to be broken.  Except for 95% of rules.  They're made to be followed.  Anyway. 

The apocalypse surely seemed 'nur
A woman president might be the cure
She'd have lots of cool allies
And definitely not cerebral palsy
And that is why I am with her.

    Alright, two more paragraphs and whatnot.  Love Trumps Hate.  You gotta realize the double meaning of that, right?  You got to.  I don't know.  I entered a raffle to attend the Long Island debate.  Great.  They should have the debate in The Amityville Horror house and they communicate with the moderator with an Ouija Board.  The moderator's a ghost.  That settles that.  We were talking about the New York Bombing Occasion and the girl sitting next to me thought Trump planned it.  Hey, I'm supposed to be the paranoid one 'round these parts!  You can't out-paranoid me!  That's the main thing I'm pretty good at!
    That's how I feel.  Anyway.  Even if he did, I'm sure he had a very good reason to.  Don't rush to judgment, that's a fool's folly.  I think it's dangerous to set a woman precedent.  That's how I feel.  What else is going on.  This is the last paragraph.  I got that going on at least.  Here are the two jokes my Dad's most proud of.  Wanna hear a dirty joke?  Okay.  A kid fell in the mud.  That's joke one.  Joke two-- Wanna hear a quick joke?  Okay.  Wanna hear another one?  The point is what a genius.  I don't know.  I feel like one more paragraph after this one.  That's how I roll today.
    Crap and crap.  I don't know.  Morals!  Anyway.  Let's see, paragraph, paragraph.  Saw my therapist today.  She's on board with my crap.  I don't know.  Real Limerick by Wednesday.  Accented symbols and crap.  And unaccented.  Who came up with this crap.  It was raining today.  Get a load of that crap.  It's Autumn in a few days.  I wanna say roughly one in a million.  I don't have all the details.  Is it okay to bite your nails in public.  I mean, sure, it's preferable not to.  But is it as bad as picking your nose or something?  Let's get on board with nail biting.  I don't know.  Here's another question-- is it okay to bite someone else's nails in public?  Whatta country!  I'll see ya later.

-5:22 P.M.
 

Thursday, September 15, 2016

Do Ambulance Sirens Really Need To Be That Loud?  What?  They Do? 

    Touché.  What's going on wide world of sports people.  Was talking smack about Professor/Class before class.  He wasn't there.  I made sure beforehand like an Adult.  He shows up to class, says a bunch of things that could be references to my critiques.  Oh well, win some and lose some.  The only possible scenario is that he was in the locked room, listened in, climbed out the window, made his way back to the room.  Yeah, not the only scenario in which he heard me-- The only scenario period.  I didn't need to say, "Period."  I had one at the end.  You guys could figure that out.  You're probably pretty smart. 
    Watched 2/3rds of Ghosts of Mars.  Looked it up on Wikipedia, apparently the casting process was, the studio was like, Let's Get Ice Cube In This Movie.  And the direct was like, Sure Why Not.  I have a vague memory of being bothered by seeing Ice Cube in movies.  The phrase Ice Cube in the credits just seemed weird to me.  This might not be a memory of Ice Cube in particular, but anyone who has some sort of name which isn't their Christian name.  Maybe Ice Cube was his Christian name.  Couldn't be.  If he was baptized he would have melted.  That's the extent of my knowledge on Christianity.
    Anyway.  Didn't advertise on Facebook the last crap-entry.  Calmed down a bit, though, after it.  Musta come from the wasps outside the window.  It's the only logical explanation.  Unless if it was my Professor, and when I entered the room, he climbed out the window and made his way to the classroom I have him in tomorrow (today) and sat in the dark, counting the hours till two students will talk about him before class.  Only logical explanation.  Anyway.  I don't know.  The point is what else and crap.  I can have microwaved chicken nuggets for dinner.  You know, like an Adult?  Can't wait.  I was about to go on a riff that's insanely stupid and child-like and not good at all.  Now that I've built it up, here it is!!!-- I don't get dipping cookies into milk.  The cookie is like, I don't come to where you work and dip you in milk!     
    A- please.  I don't know anymore.  Gettin' an A-, how do we know for sure we're not just getting a grade of a Minus, and he's just using extended grammar.  We don't know.  How do we know what extended grammar is.  We don't, not a real thing.  I'll make up words and terms, that's Poetry AND Comedy & Satire.  The best of both classes.  Anyway.  I like in Screenplay credits they have different &'s and "And,"'s.  Means they wrote it as a team or just worked on it separately themselves.  Cracked that code.  Professor said the N-word in class today.  Worst of all, he said it during taking attendance.
    Wonderful.  Gotta write an Auto-biographical poem for Saturday.  Volunteered to be one of five classmates to turn it in early so we can workshop it as a class.  You mean people are gonna have to talk about me?  Hmm, let me thi--- YES.  Now I gotta write a killer poem, though.  I'm pretty sure I've written in story form everything that's ever happened to me.  Could go back to one of those stories, but a new one would be aces.  What about the time they play Ace of Spades as the song before the paticipants of the open mic night I've gone to a few times.  That's alright.  I can write about Open-Micing.  But it's a poem.  Let's not forget that.  Gotta be poetical.  You know, alliteration and stuff?  Palindromes?  You get the idea.
    I don't know.  Write about my first love.  Why does first love get all the attention.  Third love is where it's at.  That's how I feel.  Heard a good quote from Professor who was quoting some guy-- Comedians are moralists disguised as scientists.  I like it.  It's got big words and everything.  Liked it so much I went up to him after class ended to talk about it.  Do you mean scientists, in terms of treating comedy like a science?  No.  He means scientists in terms of They try to keep a distance between themselves and what they're doing (being moralists), distance, you know, like scientists?  Keepin' an even keel, or something.  It made sense when he explained it. Wait, you mean Comedians are something else?  That's no good.  I always just thought of them as simple laugh mongers.
    I don't know what percent the quote really interested me and what percent I wanted to impress him by asking for extra knowledge.  Let's say 50/50.  What else and crap.  He's been giving me more respect lately, I'll give him more respect.  That's only fair.  Anyway, crap and crap.  The point is Hey It's A Weekend.  Saw Endocrinologist today.  Endocrinologist are Dentists disguised as Butchers.  Lost exactly as much weight as I thought I did.  A good five pounds.  Five pounds/three months.  Nine more months and I'm just regular-overweight.  Nine months isn't so bad.  You can have a baby in nine months.  I read about it in a textbook. 
    I don't know and crap.  We watched a clip from Song of the South today.  My teacher kept calling my classmates the N-word.  He's out of control.  Don't know why that amuses me.  Can't wait to finish Ghosts of Mars.  Anyway.  Ice Cube must be really useful on Mars.  They need all the H2O they can get.  Eighth paragraph.  That reminds me, I came up with a character!  The first of several, potentially.  It's "Eight or Nine Year Old Who Explains Things In A Smart And Proficient Way And Is Subtly Amused By His Own Kid-Smartness."  Amused in the way not that he's finding it funny, but in the other way. 
    That'll take me places.  Probably, right?  A lot of, "Well, Like, Umm, Also"'s for transitional phrases.  That's great, just great.  Ninth paragraph.  I've got eighteen years of life experience on this kid.  You think you're better than me?!  Oh well, what else and crap.  I got the Flu Shot.  Why not.  I got one and a half paragraphs to go.  I can rock that shit.  Ya'll want some morals?  That's what we're here for and whatnot apparently.  I gotta take out the garbage bag in my garbage can in my garbage room soon.  Overfilled as it is.  These are the issues important to me.
    The moral is Throw Out Your Garbage!  You get it.  This character was born in 2007.  I've been alive longer than that.  Morals!  Crap and crap.  Johnson Family Vacation is a really weird movie.  The plot is driven by what happens in the final quarter of the movie-- a competition between branches of family that got together to choose The Best Family.  And they have a talent show and everything.  That's the conceit of the movie.  That the best family at the family reunion gets a trophy.  Don't get it.  You gunnin' for that family of the year trophy?  Na... who cares... (Looks longingly at spot on wall reserved for trophy)  Anyway, I'll see ya later.

-5:08 P.M. 

  

Wednesday, September 14, 2016

I'll A- You!

    Got my first poem back.  A-.  Looks like I'm great.*  *--originally typed, "Bread," instead of, "Great."  Poetry!  What did you guys get.  Two answers of A-.  WHAT THE FUCK YOU THINK YOU'RE BETTER THAN ME?  That's how I feel and whatnot.  Jeez.  I'm probably going crazy again.  I heard some music playing, pinpointed it to my brother's room, was gettin' closer and closer, then it stopped.  Couldn't find anything.  That's not supposed to happen!  I don't have a history of hearing things.  Not out loud.  Oh well, you win some, you lose some.  I just got an A- on the going crazy scale.  Not a good scale to get an A- on.  That's not good.  There's probably a logical explanation.  Maybe it was coming from outside my brother's window.  You know, wasps singing and whatnot. 
    What else and crap.  I can't be going crazy.  It's not a good time for me.  Maybe I could pencil in going crazy during the break between Fall and Spring classes.  Don't have anything scheduled for then yet.  Maybe it was a siren song and they were trying to get me to jump out my brother's window.  That's probably it.  Stupid siren songs, I hate them so much.  It's possible it came from my phone.  But there's no story there.  Couldn't be it!  Oh well, what else and crap.  My brother's room was my old room.  So many memories.  Like sleeping on the edge of the bed because I was pretty sure there was a ghost on the other side. 
    Coulda been that ghost.  Wonder what she's up to.  Yeah, the ghost was a girl.  Sleepin' with girls when I was 4!  Who cares if they're ghosts!  How pimptastic.  Of course, she scared the Hell out of me.  One wonders if that influenced my future relationships with women. The one whose wondering is me.  I'm one!  How about that.  Probably why I have a thing for transparent girls.  That'll explain that.  I don't know.  What else is going on.  Memories of Listening to The White Stripes in the old room.  Probably why I like The White Stripes.  That'll explain that.  Used to have my own printer.  Not anymore.  Usually you'd think you gain and accumulate things as you get older.  Not me.  I'm minus one printer.  Oh well.
    Great.  I wonder what I'll hear next.  Better be good.  In a poetry book for class, it says something like,  Anything can be poetry, as long as it's better than the blank page.  Any otherworldly music can be good, long as it's better than silence.  Jeez, doesn't get that much better than silence.  The stakes have been raised.  Ante up!  Let's make a deal.  What else is going on.  I guess I live in the new Amityville Horror House.  Great, just great.  Just my luck.  The good news is I'm seeing my endocrinologist tomorrow.  Endocrinologist is Latin for Ghostbuster, right?  Crossin' my fingers that's right.
    Look, there's a logical explanation for the music I heard.  I'll check out the room when I'm done with this paragraphs.  I'm sure I'll find the source of that crap.  Then I can get back to the Let's Have Fun And Whatnot mindset.  ALright, checked out the room.  Nothin'.  I can't write an entry with this hanging over my head!  See ya later!  I hope!

-4:29 P.M.

Monday, September 12, 2016

Guilty!

    Hey party people.  It's your friend, the guy whose me.  Time to write an entry for some reason.  Hillary Clinton got sick.  That's great.  Really humanizes her.  Hey, I get sick too!  I'm With Her!  You know, that sort of crap.  Closing line for upcoming Hillary Commericials-- I Got Pneumonia.  Vote For Hillary.  That's how I feel and whatnot.  I almost said, "Whatnot," talking to a classmate in Poetry Workshop.  Cause it's the kind of thing I'd say in typing here.  I was about to say it, but I was like, I can't say whatnot.  I'd sound like a jerkbag.  I can't say jerkbag.  I'd sound like a whatnot and stuff.  That sort of thing.  Oh well, gotta go with the flow and jerkbag.
    What else is crappening.  I'm pretty much out of money on poker.  That's just great.  Now what am I supposed to do after I eat.  Poker was great because you're not supposed to lie down after you eat.  Poker gave me something to sit up for.  With no poker, what's the point of not being in bed.  I posit that question to you.  And posit is a word I'm pretty sure.  Sure seems like one.  I'm starting to get over my fear of the life-sized model in a Yoga pose on the Sixth Floor.  That model is to me what the furnace was to Kevin McAllister.  We all gotta get over our stuff is the point.  I like Getting Even With Dad.  And The Good Son.  And Dennis The Menace who he wasn't in.  This guy has built an entire career around, "I'm Gonna Play Tricks On People!"  Even in movies he's not in, apparently.
    That's how far his reach goes.  Pretty impressive.  What's the thing where he's Richie Rich.   I wanna say Richie Rich.  One would imagine he pulled some pranks on some unsuspecting adults.  Anyway.  It's one thing to be rich and happen to have Rich as your last name.  To name your kid Richie on top of that?  That's going overboard in my jumble opinion.  Crap and crap.  I'm starting to taste whiskey more.  Probably because I've been pouring more.  It's the most logical explanation.  I'm a big proponent of spelling it Whiskey instead of Whisky.  This is something I feel very strongly about.
    Both my classes are all about tricks.  Comedy & Satire?  Gonna trick these people into reading my blog.  Eventually.  Poetry?  Gonna trick these guys into listening to my music.  Eventually.  It's a good plan.  Much better than trying to excel academically in something and/or making genuine social relationships.  Who needs 'em.  Microsoft Excel.  So what, I heard Apple Be Great.  Now I don't know who to believe!  That sort of crap.  Also, let's face it.  If I were a computer, I'd want to be John Hodgman, not Justin Long.  Hodgman would make a way better computer.  They had it all backwards.
    What else is going on currently in the wide world of sports.  Lookin' good for The Mets in terms of Winning Baseball.  That's great.  They earned it.  You know, by playing baseball just as much as anyone else?  That's great.  What else.  I think the Bartolo Colon Home Run is kind of strange.  I understand on a logical level why it's pretty great.  On an emotional level, I get it.  But on another logical level, don't get it.  Yeah, he's a bad hitting pitcher.  He hit a home run.  Let's move on with our lives.  Still, love watching the call on YouTube.  It's the kind of thing we all accepted as Great as soon as it happened, and when everyone thinks it's great, you wanna think it's great, too.
    The point is Gary Cohen is peer pressuring all of us.  I hate him so much.  Crap and crap.  I like Poker with Antes.  Let's Build The Pot.  This is relevant for some reason, probably.  I like eating duck.  It's poultry, but out of the ordinary and really exciting.  That'll show them for being ducks.  I hate them so much.  Gotta get my guitar fixed.  I feel new music brewing in me.  It's not new music, yet.  But the preliminary attitude to making some new crap music is there.  Mostly because I Gotta Do Something.  Check Out These Chords And Whatnot.  That sort of crap.  Puttin that in my song/album titles pile.  I don't have piles.  Thank God.  I don't wanna have a pile that included that clunker.  That degrades all piles, everywhere.  Sorry, Piles.  If only R. Lee Ermey said that once, he still might be alive.  Oh well, live and learn.
    Great.  You can't apologize to your cadets.  Then they wont respect you.  Can't be having that.  Anyway.  The main thing I know about the military is that Pauly Shore had to get his haircut.  Pretty much.  I added, "Pauly," to the Microsoft Frontpage Dictionary.  You know, for all those future times I reference Pauly Shore?  That kind of crap.  People liked my poem in Poetry.  Mainly, the one stanza that just came to me as a dream but in waking life.  That's no good.  Look at all that crap I wrote consciously.  That's great.  They don't like that, though.  They like the bullshit that isn't even worth thinking of.  Now I know how Elvis felt. 
    Great.  Elvis learned how to dance from Forrest Gump.  I saw it in a documentary.  What else.  Eighth paragraph.  I got that going on. I still have points on the Pokersite for entering low level tournaments.  That's pretty good.  Most people don't even have points.  I got points.  You want some points?  E-mail me and we'll work out some sort of deal.  You get points, and something comes my way, too.  Let's see, what else kind of crap is going on.  Yoenis Cespedes' entrance song is The Lion King music.  At first I thought that was racist, but turns out, it's his choice.  In retrospect, not 100% on why I thought racist.  Weird and inappropriate, sure.  But hey, if Cespedes is on board, so am I.  He hits home runs and whatnot for the baseball team I like. 
    Right, right...  Jeez.  Good chance the frequency of entries will pick up without poker.  I'd put money on it but not too much because I'm still dealing with a gambling addiction.  Shouldn't be betting on anything, even a sure thing.  Which this is not.  Sure, if I bet on it, I'd probably win, because it's in my control.  So I'd just start writing entries to win the bet.  I don't know what the fuck.  Anyway.  You hear that life sized model?!  You don't scare me anymore!  Well, just a little.  What if that's a person who they turned into stone.  Or whatever it's made of.  That wouldn't be good.  We're all at risk in that scenario.
    Ok, great.  Using orange soda now to mix with whiskey.  That would tamper the whiskey taste down a bit one would imagine.  I like Orange.  It's a color and it's a thing.  Apple can't say that.  Watermelon isn't a color.  Oranges got some groovy things going on, oh boy.  Except for Clockwork Orange.  You hear me, Clockwork Orange?!  You still scare me forevermore!  Jeez.  I was watching TV, and on the guide, I consecutively saw they were playing some documentary on Hitler, and then I saw they were playing Revenge of the Nerds on a different channel.  Hitler & The Nerds.  Great terribly great terrible band name.
    Sure, why not.  This would make a great band name is the lowest form of conversation.  I hate it so much.  Before editing it, I originally spelled, "Consecutively" with a Q.  Almost did it again just then.  I got The Poetry in my blood and I'm gonna misspell words all over the place in the name of poetry.  That's how I roll.  Hillary Clinton getting sick.  See, I knew she wasn't a cyborg!  Whatta relief.  Politicians running for office are really lucky because they get to approve messages.  I want to approve some messages.  No messages for me to approve, though.  And if there were, nobody would care if I approve them.  Oh well.  The point is four more paragraphs.
    Alright.  Gettin' to approve messages or not.  Whatta power trip and whatnot.  Whattado without poker.  Probably eat some cereal.  But I can only do that for so long and so much.  Can't go overboard.  Cereal is not a sustainable hobby.  I can ask my brother to transfer me 20 dollars and I'll pay him back next time I see him.  Not because I'm addicted to gambling.  I'm just addicted to having some to do.  Naw mean?  It's like that.  I finally saw Blue Streak for the first time as a child, and, yup, it ends in Mexico.  I knew it was the inspiration for my Mexico-every-line-rhymes Song.  Having it confirmed is great, though.  Real great.
    The point is three more paragraphs.  I can do that probably one would imagine.  Damn, now I got poker on the brain again.  Can't get sucked into it too much.  I'm no degenerate probably one would imagine.  Although now surely my brother has that impression.  Don't tell anybody.  They'll lose respect for me.  I can't be having that.  R E S P... E C... D?  I forget how to spell it.  Are you going to the mall later?  How can you even consider there being an, "R," in couch.  Never would have entered the equation at all.  I think Billy Madison was just pulling a goof.  He knew there wasn't an R.  Just trying to muck things up a bit for humor.
    Anyway, what the what.  I might have money again!  That'll show Poker for making me temporarily broke on their site.  I hate it so much.  This time around, play within my limits.  I can build it up again, slowly, real slow like.  Gotta do something.  Can't risk it all.  Poker giving me something to do is more important than Poker making me money.  Jeez, what else and crap.  Workshoppin' my poem.  How did you come up with that last stanza?  Well, I didn't.  My subconscious did, I hate it so much.  I can't tell them that.  Now they think I'm great because of that stanza.  Can't let them down.  Great, now I gotta be great for an hour fifteen minutes twice a week.  Talk about pressure.  I just wanna be stupid.  Being stupid fits me just fine.
    Okay.  Hey, this is the last paragraph.  That's swell.  Real swell.  Maybe I am a little addicted to the highs and lows of gambling.  Oughtta play Omaha Hi/Lo, then.  Take care of them both at once.  You know, things and crap?  What crap is going on.  Finish this entry hardcore.  Two classes isn't too bad.  One of them has only reading as homework, and, you know what?  Don't do the reading.  So far, no consequences.  Might there be a test based on the reading at some point?  Sure, possibly.  I'll worry about that when the time comes.  For now, I'll be happy with four classes a week and only having work to do for one of them.  It's the best of both worlds.  If worlds are involved.  Or being best.
    I feel like havin' some extra paragraphs.  Feel guilty for committing another 20 into poker.  Writing will solve that, right?  It should.  Gotta be good for something one would imagine.  Also, it's more or less my parents money.  That comes into play when discussing guilt.  But my social security money just goes into the pool of my parents money.  Whose to say I can't spend forty dollars for fun.  The Government.  Damnit, the government, I hate it so much.  I keep getting e-mails to donate to Democrats.  I donated to Bernwald Sandersville.  I did my job for the rest of my life.  You got thirty dollars, I get peace of mind knowing I don't have to do anything again ever.  That was the deal.
    Hey, one extra paragraph down already.  20 is within sight!  20/20 is the best thing you can have for sight.  You know, bullshit and crap?  Another potential album name for my next batch of songs is Punch.  It's like Cream.  Except Punch.  That'll solve that problem.  Sounds too serious, though.  We don't take things too seriously here at The Uppers Headquarters.  Try not to, at least.  You know, crap and whatnot?  Someone spiked the punch!  Someone made a pun...-ch!  Works on almost too many levels.  Sure, it must have been done before.  But I'm reappropriating it for my needs.  In terms of ending up not using it all but having it be fodder for paragraphs. 
    Hey, two extra paragraphs down already.  Only roughly three more.  I haven't crunched the numbers yet but three sounds promising.  Hey, Crunch!  Another album title!  I've gone on record saying that I don't like music being referred to as Crunchy.  Doesn't mean anything.  No good!  No good.  Put the Ron Howard movies on hold!  I'm gettin' back into poker!  I like David Lynch movies but they scare me.  That's how I feel about movies.  Maybe my subconscious will tell me when to re-raise.  Gotta make itself useful somehow.  That's no good, either.  I got this, subconscious.  Lemme play this one out on my own. 
    Three to go.  20 Paragraphs, I've never heard of such a thing.  The hits'll keep comin'.  And Wilmer Flores has the Friends theme song as his walkup music.  That's just great.  Makes me really think that Wilmer Flores gets it.  I don't know.  If there's a baseball team called The Nationals, shouldn't there be one called The Americans?  Whatta country!  I don't know.  Just don't know.  Even if I do re-up in Poker, I've got the stench of failure on me.  Playing more poker will just remind me.  That's no good. 
    Anyway.  On the other hand, I could be a professional.  You know, because of bluffs and stuff?  Crap and crap, what else is crappening.  I was so good at poker in high school I would sometimes not even look at my cards and just play the player.  I pretended to look at my cards.  If they knew I didn't, they could play me-- the other player.  And one would imagine I'm even better now after a decade of life experience.  That's also the only social group I ever belonged to in high school.  Us that played the poker.  The point is I'm great because I had 3-5 friends.  That'll show them, it'll show all of 'em.  I hate them so much.  I'll see ya later.

-5:36 P.M. 

Thursday, September 8, 2016

Everybody Likes Titles!

    Right?  That's how I feel.  Another week in the books.  Damn, forgot to put it in the books.  Gotta write Another Week in the third, wild-card section of my notebook.  First section is for Comedy & Satire.  Second section is for Poetry Workshop.  Third section is--- Anything Goes.  What fun!  Turns out my Mom threw out 20 or so of my old notebooks I was saving.  I had great drawings of boxes in there!  The best boxes you'll ever see!  Whatta waste.  At least all that practice made me real proficient at drawing boxes.  Never know when that might come in handy.  I took Cubism, misunderstood it, and just rolled with it.  Cause I think Cubism means drawing boxes.  It's a joke-- I'm stupid.  Right?
    That's how that goes.  I like Cuba Gooding Jrism.  It's flat out likable, that's how I feel.  I found out a really great way to browse On Demand movies to see if any are worth watching.  Look at the director!  Titles don't tell the whole story.  Director?  That tells the whole story.  That's why they're the director.  Anyway, crap and crap.  May get a Smart TV for my Birthday/Chanukah/Christmastime/HappyNewYearsGift.  You know, because I looked at my life, and thought, What's Missing.  Oh, I know!  Watch More T.V.  That'll solve my problems one would imagine.  I don't wanna T.V. that's smarter than me, though.  Then the T.V. would have AI to watch me.  That's all mixed up.  That's no good. 
    That's no good.  In terms of being funny or entertaining.  No good at all.  Monday was Labor Day.  Which we celebrate by taking the day off work.  Fuck that, every other day is Labor Day.  That day is take a break from labor day!  And another thing, boy are my wings tired.  I was looking up Yackoff Smirnoff on Wikipedia.  What a country.  What else is going on.  In Soviet Russia, Country What's You.  Anyone can do it.  It's fun.  Why not.  The good news is Donald Trump is a big fan of Russia.  That'll put your mind at ease.  In Soviet Russia, Russ Hashanah's Capitalists.  What crapdom. 
    Let's see, jokes, jokes...  Comedy Teacher is starting to recognize me.  Givin' me some good verbal and visual feedback for my great comments.  Looks like I'm a Success.  That's good.  What else is good.  The Mets are good.  Statistically in the standings.  You can't argue with Standings.  You can try.  You'll fail.  That's why they're standings.  I don't know what the fuck.  I listened to my music on my Mom's Smart T.V.  Turns out I'm pretty great.  Never woulda guessed.  If only I didn't over-produce the songs.  Hours upon hours, each song.  Gotta let the song breathe, man.  Let the songs breathe!  The joke is What's a song.  Still haven't figured it out. 
    Anyway.  I'm pot-committed to the band name The Uppers.  No going back now.  Anyway.  Why don't you just stick with your name.  Why don't you stick with your name!  Get off my website!  This isn't MichaelKornblum.net.  It's crazysheet.net!  Giving myself names is all I have left!  Don't you dare take that away from me!  I feel very strongly about this.  Not really.  Titles are fun, though, that's all.  I'll title where I want, when I want.  That's how I roll.  Back to playing the lowest limits in poker after a brief foray into the upper double digits.  Oh well, I built it up once, I can do it again!  And lose it again!  And build it up again!  And lose it again!  Then lose it all!  And then figure out What The Hell to do with my life when I'm not in school.  That'll take some time. 
    Great.  Four Day Weekend.  Great.  I was even thinking, If I just reach a stable place where I can average 5 or ten dolars a day, I could fund a month or several of dorming at Queens College.  Dorming is fun.  I get to take showers in a different shower.  Never been in here before!  That sort of thing.  Don't count your gremlins before they hatch, though.  Oh well.  I turn 28 in three months.  I'll have lived four sequences of seven years.  That's a lot of Seven Years.  Roughly four.  I don't know what the fuck.  Anyway.  Alright, spent seven years in Tibet, seven years itchy, seven years bad luck... and a fourth reference.  Jeez.  Maybe Tibet would get it's Own Country Status if they re-branded.  Start pronouncing it To-Bet and open up a lot of casinos.  Obviously their current game plan isn't working, so it's time to mix things up a bit.
    Alright.  Okay.  I find it odd that in cities, suburbs, rural areas-- in all-- gas stations come in clusters.  Get your own spot.  Quit cock-blocking other gas stations.  It's not cool.  Anyway.  Twelve Years a slave minus five for good behavior.  Probably.  What else and crap.  The point is I got Comedy and Satire professor on board with some Miko's.  I don't know why I called myself Miko.  It's the first two letters of my two names combined.  I still don't know why here, why now, of all times and places.  Oh well.  Jeez.  I did make it to seven paragraphs, though.  That's good.
    Seven years paragraphing.  Let's see, first crazysheet, 2004-2007, second crazysheet, 2012-2016.  First year or two of first crazysheet was inexplicably not in paragraph form, but in big-blobs-of-words form, one per entry.  2005, 2006, 2007.  I don't wanna count anymore.  I'm bailing on this premise because counting suddenly seems like too much of a hassle for me.  Partly because it's gonna be more than seven years.  I can tell.  Probably.  Real dispiriting.  What else is going on.  I'm almost exclusively smoking Newports now.  Gotta keep things fresh.  Anyway.  I like teachers being on board with The Mike Man.  Positive reinforcement!  Getting the credit I so desperately deserve. and whatnot.
    Great.  What else is going on.  I hate writing poems thinking it's about one thing, then my groupmates tell me it's about someting else.  Where do poems get off.  Think they're so great.  You wouldn't have existed if not for my digits!  Digits mean fingers!  I learnt it in a place somewhere!  Great, just great.  Jeez.  I like to imagine my teachers over the past two years talking to each other about what a great guy I was/am.  Because there's things wrong with me.  I wasn't always good in college.  NYU, pretty much a C student.  And why not.  I had busted my hump off in high school because GPA actually means something there.  Got to college, no more eight classes a day for five days a week, now it's two classes a day four days a week.  Time to take it easy.
    Oh well.  Now I do well in class because I Love To Learn.  I love to learn so much, a week or two into my Fall 2014 class, I realized I didn't need to take it, counted not at all towards my degree.  Didn't drop it. You know why?  Because I Love To Learn.  Also, didn't wanna deal with the hassle of my parents being mad at me.  Rather do work for four months than admit to my parents I fucked up.  Don't tell them.  Please?  Great.  At this rate, graduating Fall or Winter next year.  Time to think about the future.  You know, SkyNet and stuff?  That sort of thing.  Anyway, great, just great.
    Five paragraphs to go!  Time to do it Hardcore.  The lesson is Always Bring an Umbrella.  I hate when it raining really hard and it's really windy and your umbrella turns inside out.  I went through all the hassle to have an umbrella and now you're turning inside out on me?  Why bother with anything!  If I could count the number of times umbrellas have led me to an existential crisis... It'd be at zero.  Never happened.  Still, it might.  Can't predict the future.  Was talking to some classmates before class started about the seasons.  Everyone's on board with my theory that Fall Is The Best.  And October is the Best Part Of Fall. 
    Turns out I've got my thumb on today's youthculture.  We're all about October.  That's great.  You know what else is great?  Four paragraphs to go!  Alright.  Baseball likes October.  It's their biggest month.  Candidates like October.  It's when they get to Surprise people.  October is loved all around.  Can't wait for this years' October Surprises.  I love surprises!  Anyway, crap and crap.  Songs are things musicians write to feel smart.  Oh okay now I get it.  What else and crap.  Goin' to the Endocrinologist next week.  Gonna get my endocrine all checked out and whatnot.  It's about time.  My endocrine has been really bothering me lately.     
    I don't know.  The point is we're almost done.  No Met game today, though.  Guess I'm gonna have to watch more Ron Howard movies.  Such is life.  Stupid Mom, throwing out notebooks.  I had songs in those!  Drawings!  Notes!  An endless supply of things that entertain me and only me.  Hey, I'm me!  I like being entertained!  Oh well, guess I took all those classes for nothing.  Live and learn.  Two and a half paragraphs to go.  How entertaining one would imagine.  I thought the big criticism of my poem would be the inconsistent commas.  Sometimes I use commas and sometimes I don't.  Figured there'd be a lot of discussion about that.  Not one comment. 
    Great.  I don't know.  At what point does NetFlix become self-aware.  Don't know.  Just don't know.  I don't like watching the Amityville Horror movies.  I live near there.  Those ghosts could take a bus, connect to another bus, walk a few blocks, and here they are.  Too close for comfort.  That's how I feel.  IIn Ghostbusters, a ghost drives the bus.  Yeah, but that's fiction.  It's not real.  Not like Amityville Ghosts.  Adventureland is in Amityville, I think.  Or close by.  I used to go there.  You know, for fun.  That sort of thing.  Let's just hope ghosts never learn how to buy Metrocards.  That's what I'm holdin' out hope for.
    I don't know.  Last paragraph.  AHH!  A ghost-graph!  That sort of thing.  I used to make graphs all over the place in my brief office student intern job.  No I didn't.  I just wanted to sound cool.  Probably made two or three graphs, tops.  What else is going on.  I didn't make any graphs.  By Graphs I meant using Excel.  That's close enough, right?  I don't know.  Jeez.  What to do if not poker.  There's only so many Ron Howard movies in the universe.  Get my electric guitar fixed.  Make some more crap songs.  But then I'd have to talk on the phone to someone.  And go to some place-- twice!  That's no good.  Any place you have to go to twice, you should be able to go to once.  Twice is for suckers.  I don't know what the fuck.  I'll see ya later.

-5:18 P.M.  

Thursday, September 1, 2016

I'll Comedy You!

    Learnt about comedy.  Made some great comments.  Teacher just shrugged them off, one by one.  Whatta fool.  Doesn't he know I'm Great?  Anyway, what's going on and bullshit.  Finished my first full week of Autumn College.  I said Autumn to sound smart.  So much more sophisticated than the Fall stuff you guys throw around.  Let's get sophisticated.  There was a girl in a class I had senior year at Stuy whose named was Gizem.  It took me until last week to realize why that's funny.  I didn't realize it then, how could I.  I had too much respect for her.  She was a girl and fairly attractive, therefore my superior.  We don't speak truth to power.  That's what my professor says.  We laugh because the superior class wants us to.  No way.  You got it all mixed up.  Eh, and shrugs it off.  No comment either way on my comment.  Just complete indifference.
    I'll show him.  I already showed him once when he tried to recall the name Jack Handey.  Jack something, he said.  Handey?  I go.  Yeah, and shrugs it off.  Whatta fool.  Larry David and Chris Rock, probably our best comedians who talk about our past.  Huh?  I'm not familiar with either's complete anthology, but they don't talk about the past that much.  What's wrong with this person.  Anyway, great.  It's still a decent class.  What with me being around my peers for an hour and fifteen minutes twice a week.  I'm on board with that.  Anyway, September is here.  That's one of the 12 months.  I remember because of The Month Song.  It's included in there.  It's funny because I'm too stupid to realize it tells us the numbers of days in the months, I just think it's so we remember the months.  Speaking truth to power.
    You know, our Calendar Overlords?  I hate them so much.  Mets taking ass and kicking names.  I feel like I've made that jumble-em-up before.  Well, that's just great.  What else is going on.  I'm surprised by how quickly the fans welcomed back Bruce into their embraces.  All he needed to do was hit one single, next at bat, back to BRRUUU(ce). Probably because of racism.  Prove me wrong!  It's about our countries past.  If a Black Man hit a single, they wouldn't give two shakes of a fig.  Oh well, can't argue with mob mentality.  What else is going on. Four day weekend.  It's about time.  I've been working my ass off, taking five 75 minute classes in the past eight days.  That's how I feel.
    Great!  There was a girl sitting next to me in Poetry that I thought was cute, but then it turned out she was 51.  She could teach me the Secrets of Sex.  It's about time.  What else is going on and bullshit.  She read my poemsong out loud like a nursery rhyme.  True, I never gave her any notes on a possible melody.  Cause that's not how I roll.  But she totally disrespected the entire process.  Where does she get off and whatnot.  Probably doesn't.  I could teach her the Lessons of Youth.  Now we're each getting something out of the deal, I can get on board with that.  Too bad I could think of an Alliteration with Youth.  That's poetry for ya.
    What else is going on.  I finally got a new wire to charge my electric shaver.  Now I can shave every two weeks like an adult.  Alright!  What else and crap.  Fifth paragraph and whatnot.  It was raining hard on my way from School to Bus.  Got to the gas station, asked if they sell umbrellas.  They do.  Get to the counter.  You know what, I changed my mind on the umbrella.  I'm gonna roll the dice.  Stopped raining hard by the time I got off the bus.  Sometimes taking chances pays off in a big way.  Rain is speaking truth to power.  Hey, you might be Pope, but you still gonna get rained upon.  Not the best example.  The Pope notoriously wears a hat.  So he won't get rained upon.  That's how we know he's the Pope.
    Also, he's friends with Jesus.  What else is going on.  Two months until Election and when I can take a long, comfortable break from caring about anything.  Sure, I'll still wear my Bernie shirt so people know I'm hardcore.  But that'll be the extent of my participation in this, our grand experiment, in a Democratic Republic.  All I gotta do is wear a shirt?  I'm on board with that.  That's great.  Had to smoke a cigarette barely inside the campus walls.  Right where it connects to the sidewalk, when you're feet inside the campus, there was a structure overhead so I wouldn't get rained upon.  Talk about rolling the dice.  I could have gotten arrested.  I didn't, though.
    Right, right.  Seventh paragraph and whatnot.  An iCloud sounds dangerous.  There's electricity involved, obviously, as represented by the Apple, "i."  And there's a cloud, which notoriously harbor rain.  The point is I don't understand things.  Which is the fourth theory of humor that we didn't get to talk about.  Not Understanding Stuff.  I guess it turns out that lightening is the sky getting electrocuted.  Pretty straightforward stuff, but I never really processed how terrible it must be for the sky.  The point is I'm ever-so-close to ten paragraphs.  It's funny because, well, I guess it isn't.  That'll learn me.   
    Crap and crap!  That's what I'm all about.  It's the thinking man's humor.  For my Poetry class, it's on the seventh floor of some building, and when you get out of the elevator, there's a life-size statue, or model, or whatever, of a human being sitting.  Freaks me out every time.  That's how I feel.  Every time means twice.  That's how that goes.  It's actually on the sixth floor.  You need to get off the elevator at the sixth floor and climb a flight of stairs to get to the seventh floor.  I skipped telling you this because it's tedious and who needs it.  Good thing that happened.  Anyway.  Facebook stopped telling me why things are trending.  They just give a noun and show how many people are talking about it.  That's just great.  On the downside, don't know what's going on.  On the upside, I don't really want to know what's going on.
    Truth to power!  That'll show them for being newsworthy.  Anyway, crap and crap.  Ninth paragraph.  That's how we do.  I got beer for the first time in months.  My Comedy Teacher is pretty much literally the worst audience possible.  Comedy audience. But  as an audience of class-comments.  Makes an Eh noise, either audibly or insinuated, shrugs either physically or imagined, processes it as shit or so it seems.  That's how I feel.  The moral of the story is start wearing a Pope hat everywhere I go.  Can never be too careful.  Yeesh.  First entry of the month in the first day of the month.  Does that mean this month will be more prolific than the last few?  I don't know.  Stop asking me things.  Where do you get off.  I watched About a Boy last night.  I used to listen to the album written in connection to the album a lot.  My favorite part of the album is the songs.  The songs can make or break any album.
    Not sure what the point of that was.  The good news is Five day weekend, more or less.  One day till Friday, this time.  Two days till Saturday, this time.  Three Sunday.  Four Monday.  Tuesday class is few hours before this time of day.  That's five days.  That'll Math you.  If only there was a way of knowing how many days in September.  I'm betting on 30 or 31.  You place that bet, you come up big 11 out of 12 months.  The trick is finding someone to bet with.  Anyway.  We talked about Left-Handedness in class and Professor asked if any of us were left handed and I got to strut my stuff.  Only person in the class.  Then we were talking about how that used to be perceived like we were evil.  How dare you.  My main thought when confronted with that piece of history is, I'm glad I'm not evil... (or am I?).  No way of knowing. 
    Jeez, gotta keep writing.  That's how I feel.  Gotta put your best foot forward.  That's a saying that legitimizes leftfootedness.  Don't matter which is your best foot.  Just go with it.  I'm on board with that. Which class am I gonna impress with my Bernie shirt next week.  Comedy or Poetry.  Leaning towards Poetry.  It shows I'm passionate about stuff and crap.  That's Poetry.  Anyway.  Losing weight.  That's pretty great.  I find it much easier to walk.  I can walk all day now, if I wanted.  I'm real proficient in walking.  Anyway.  I got lucky in poker.  Now I'm at the highest bankroll I've ever been in this incarnation of me playing poker.
    Alright!  The real alright is that there's four more paragraphs.  Fifteen in the magic number.  Fifteen is where quantity finally trumps quality.  The point is who cares.  The good thing about About a Boy is you don't need to explain what it's about.  Tells ya right in the title.  Saves all kinds of time and effort.  I'm on board.  Poetry Class so far is good.  Lots of talking in that class.  I'm on board with talking.  Me talking means people are listening to me.  That's great.  I'm never gonna get to fifteen at this rate.  Rate.  I remember not liking Math/Physics where there's speed and acceleration.  Not a fan of the distinctness of the two.  Let's get on board and whatnot.
    I wonder where the candidates stand on Metric System.  On the one hand, we should adopt it for logical reasons.  On the other hand, adopting the Metric system will corrupt our pristine American culture with outside-math.  I'm not a fan of outside-math, I hate it so much.  The point is I stopped ripping holses in my boxers because I'm too overweight for them.  All that's done with now.  I have like twelve pairs of boxers that fit me and one, what's it called, you know, the other kind of underwear.  Save it for special occasions and whatnot.  Gotta pace myself accordingly.  Truth to power!  Briefs!  The point is I Remembered A Word. 
    Yeesh.  I only learned in the past year that socks are designed to be worn a certain way.  I was just puttin' em on willy-nilly.  Live and learn.  Also, half the time, I don't wear socks.  That's what I'm all about.  No socks!  Put my best foot forward!  Get rid of the foot, adopt the yard!  All comes together.  That's the fifth theory of humor.  Anyway.  I believe that's what Stephen Hawking has spent his life working on.  Finding a single theory of humor.  And, if not, let's get him working on it.  I--Am--Dis-Able--D--Which-Is--Fun--Ny.  I'm on board with that.  Hawking's on wheelchair with it.  Everybody comes out on top.
     Last paragraph already.  The acceleration really speeded up.  I can't imagine Trump making the age-old tradition of congratulating his competitor on election night.  I can't imagine a lot of things.  Like Trump winning on election night.  Just try to block out those thoughts.  I'm turning 28 in a few months.  28 is when you're almost 30.  That's no good.  I'm still in college.  I still live at home.  I still smoke cigarettes.  Made a pact with myself to quit by the time or when I'm at 30.  Two or three more years of living it up.  You know, living it up by greatly reducing my lifespan?  That sort of thing.  I hate pretty much 90% of anti-smoking advertisements.  Makes me want to smoke just to spite them.  Anyway, I'll catch ya later.

-5:20 P.M.