Friday, September 29, 2017

I Don't Know About Titles

    Hey friends.  First entry in a while that's being written at home.  My home.  The crapshack I sleep at.  Anway.  Whole different mindset.  I blame being at home with my family nearby.  Them bastards throwing me off my game!  Just like Open Mic on Sunday.  Stupid handful of people I know deciding to come.  Throwin' me off my game!  It's good though.  The more people being forced to listen to me, the better.  Jokes on them.  I'ma sneak a free 10 song CD into their pockets without them knowing.  Then take their wallets.  At that point, might as well, pot committed to the whole thing and whatnot.
    Second paragraph.  Jeez.  Tomorrow is Yom Kippur.  How does God decide how to treat us the first ten days of the new year.  Is it risidual from how well we did Last Year's Yom Kippur?  Or is it just a generic ten days that everyone gets equal.  I got a lot of questions for God and when I reach the upper echelons of Heaven in a few dozen years this is right at the top of the list.  Anyway.  Gotta be in the upper echelons.  It ain't Heaven until you live in the Penthouse Of Heaven suite.  Hugh Hefner died.  Well, that's life I guess.  He was probably a terrible guy, but I base my opinions on Hugh Hefner based on the movie The House Bunny and the music video for Weezer's Beverly Hills.  Seems like a pretty good guy in those things.
    I kinda remember, as an 11 year old kid, getting the guts to start looking at porn online, I feel like one of the websites I tried out was playboy.com.  Man, did Hefner do some great Branding.  In my sheltered 11 year old existence, I found porn and playboy to be synonymous.  Good on him.  I feel like I might have also tried sex.com.  Start with the basics, I guess.  That's gonna be my main Father-Son advice when I have a kid.  You're going to be tempted to start looking at porn soon.  Start with the basics.  Pretty much all the fatherly advice I've accumulated 29 years on the planet. 
    Anyway.  What the what.  Fourth paragraph.  Woah.  You've got plenty of time to delve into the deep dark recesses of fetishism, start small, that's what I say.  Anyway.  Jeez.  Show in 48 hours.  I've got clocks to tell time and everything.  Jealous?  I don't know.  And by start small, I mean devote your early masturbations to images of Little People.  Jeez.  I don't know.  Is there Affirmative Action in porn?  If there was, it might go a little something like this...  I don't want to write a riff.  Whose got time.  Jeez.  Let's see.  ...Nope.  Don't wanna think too hard about anything.
    That settles that.  Finished Jane Eyre.  Finished four books so far for AAL.  I'm a book reading machine!  Need input.  That sort of crap.  After every AAL book, I go, Oh, so this is what being black people is like.  And the next book, my findings are reputed.  Eh, not really.  I've picked up some common universalities that seem to speak to a common experience and perspective that I can really get on board with.  Looks like I'm learnins!  That'll learn 'em.  I don't know.  This is the fifth paragraph.  That's good.  I was worried I wouldn't make it past the third sentence.
    Anyway, jeez.  The last book was from 2014.  Kind of dated.  Implied Hillary will win in a landslide.  Republicans will ally with Hispanics.  Other things.  Pretty much.  Figure this entry'll be ten pararaphs.  More than halfway there.  Jeez.  Apparently Facebook is nazis.  I didn't realize they were literally making a book of our Faces!  Really kind of seems like a foreboding website name now that I think about it.  And next to my face there's a red Star of David.  The Artist Formerly Known As David.  Now he signs his name with the star.  David vs. Goliath.  What's the deal with things.
    Man have I gotten lazy with my riffs.  What else is going on.  I don't get why people say Putin and his regime are anti-Democratic.  They love Democracy so much, they can't help but participate in it all over the world!  They can't get enough of it!  And whatnot.  Riff.  I don't know.  Seventh paragraph.  That's how that goes.  Pretty much have a set list for Sunday that I'm satisfied with.  Not perfect, but good enough that I remember where each song is played based upon its innate satisfactory qualities.  Tuned my guitar up half a step.  To it being down half a step.  Send in your answers to this puzzle to crazysheet@Webduboissites.com. 
    Anyway, jeez.  Eighth paragraph.  Are there any chumps who type in, "WWW." before a website?  Let's shun them once we find out who they are.  I don't know.  What else.  Here's another Fatherly Advice I came up with--  Son, buy domain names.  God ain't making any more of 'em.  Sweet.  Up to two things!  I saw a study that Trumps Tax plan can save him over a billion dollars.  What a coincidence!  Talk about good luck.  This guy has got it in spades.  I don't know.  Got CD Sleeves for Free CD for People who Show Up to my Music.  Had 14 blank CD-Rs and some CD-RWs.  14 CDrs!  I never heard of a more perfect number for how many CDs to make!
    I'll probably pawn off two and be stuck with the rest.  And I'm giving them away for free.  I don't know.  Ninth paragraph.  I did a little Mixing for the CDs.  Upped the Bass for each song.  Lowered the Treble.  Sure, it's Treble that makes the songs.  I'm on a real Treble playing field.  But uppin' the bass, evens things out.  I have no idea what I'm talking about.  All I know is that Bass is pronounced Base.  Something I picked up from my years playing instrument.  I don't know.  Who does know.
    Tenth paragraph.  What the what!  I'm dreading the day I finish an English Class and the professor goes, You know, we all read your website.  Stands to reason one of these Professors I made such a great impression on would find it, share with the rest, and now none of us know what to do.  Jeez.  That would be crapsville if it were the case.  Do they Reed my website, as an ongoing thing, or have they Red my website, and they didn't like it???  Well?  I'm waiting.  Send in your answers to crazysheet@domainname.com
    11th paragraph.  I guess I can go for 15!  That sounds like fun!  Until I get halfway through the 12th!  Then sounds like work!  What the what.  I feel like I've gained back 5 pounds over the past 2 months.  I've been averaging 1800-2000 calories a day, which shuoldn't make me gain weight, but my body is an Idiot.  And I'm holding on hope that once I start Testosterone Rejuvenation it'll help Metabolism.  Then I get back in the right direction.  In the meantime, though, Whatta jip.  I guess.  Wow.  Gonna shave a bit before Sunday Show.  Moustache area, neck area.  Leave a little bit of stubble for the beard, but strategically, you know?  That sort of crap.
    12th paragraph.  That's how that goes.  Jeez.  Might get the 30 dollar professional recording of Sunday Show.  Seems like a way to go.  I figure there's a good 60-70% chance I give a performance worth remembering.  It's for me, basically.  I like my music sometimes!  Anyway, entry.  I'm havin' fun.  Was watching some George Carlin with my Mom the last few days.  Kinda makes me feel good about myself.  He goes on some riffs on some same topics I have and I think my riffs hold up reasonably well compared to his.  That'll learn 'im.  Not sure what that means.
    What the what.  13th paragraph.  Maybe even go past 15!  I don't wanna get too excited, we'll see how it goes.  Did a bit about Monopoly.  I had some great stuff on that.  1--We all wnat the Racecar, because subliminally we want the game to end as quickly as possible.  Adequate joke! 2--Something about how going to jail all the time is indicitve of some sort of comment on society or business or something.  Adequate joke, assuming more thought is put into phrasing it and complicating it better.  3-- I'm not going to jail, why should I listen to a card!  I forget.  I legitimately like the Racecar bit, though, at the very least.
    What the what.  I'm sure I even had several other jokes about Monopoly over the years.  Who can remember.  Not am I only too lazy to go on new riffs, I'm too lazy to even spend time recollecting past riffs.  What the what.  I don't know.  You know why they're called Board Games, right, it's because you get Bored playing them!!!! (read as George Carlin, yelling the second half)  Anyway, jeez.  The point is I'm adequate at both music and comedy.  It's always been my dream to be adequate at things.  I think largely because I've always been inadequate at being average height or taller.
    Jeez.  Fifteenth paragraph.  20 seems good.  Anyway.  Six to go in that case.  That doesn't sound good.  We'll see and whatnot. -->(read as George Carlin, waxing poetic:)  Is it me, or it physically impossible... to bite off, more than you can chew.  HBO Special, please.  I don't know.  Jeez.  Figured out and wrote which fret to Capo each song, should I Capo, and what kind of picking/strumming to do with each song.  Really gettin' everything figured out before hand.  Like a Responsible.  What else.  Man, I don't know.  It can either be really fun or really terrible.  Honestly, more likely to be really fun.  Things are lookin' up!
    16th paragraph.  What the what.  And I do have small plans for things to do afterwards.  Do an Open Mic eight days later.  Columbus having landed in America is paying off big time for me.  Jeez.  That brief Era of my life is over, though.  The three months I went to Sidewalk Cafe Open Mic every Monday.  It was a lotta fun.  Real good quality period of time.  Now it's onto bigger and better things.  Like, I don't know.  Reading more books written by African Americans.  Really get it, you know?  Be a real Great Guy.  Disabledes, too.  That's a good class too!  And I'm doin' well in both classes.  Get off my back about it., jeez.
    17th paragraph.  That's how that goes.  Four paragraphs to go.  Let's see, words, words...  The The Bitter End Open Mic hadn't gone so good, and that's the last time I've done music in front of people.  Blame that on being in a different venue, a different time of day, and with a friend.  Now I'm back in my element, same time of day, and I'll be with Friend(s) again, but now I'm accustomed to it.  Anyway.  Gotta pace myself.  Can't very well be pumped up about it the next 48 hours, can I?  No, gotta delve into some prolonged periods of self doubt.  That's what the Clock & Calendar dictates, at least.  Who am I to argue.
    Some guy with no respect for Clocks & Calendars?  Hardly likely!  Anyway.  Three paragraphs to go!  Then back to Nothing.  Crap.  This entry has gone well.  I actually wrote it and whatnot.  Feel like it's had its fair share of goofballs.  Anyway, what else.  Three more paragraphs to go, might as well enjoy it while I can.  At the end of Jane Eyre, something supernatural happens.  I'm not on board with that.  I like my fiction Un-Super-Natural, please.  Anyway.  Ruined the whole thing.  What else.  I don't know.  Jane breifly changes her name to Jane Elliott.  Wonder if that was Steve Smith's inspiration to change his name to Elliott.  I guess we'll never know.  He's dead.
    Unless he told someone before he died.  Like a death-bed confession.  That musta been something that his friends and stuff would ask him.  Elliott, gotta ask-- Why?  Anyway, what the what.  Two paragraphs to go.  Jeez.  There were a few weeks I was really into reading all the Tweets by MSNBC contributors.  Glad that's over.  Hey, that's the name of my CD I settled on!  Glad That's Over. I look forward to already regretting it already before I even have to be committed to it.  I told you it was a bastardized Simpsons line.  From The The Shining Spoof.  Marge goes on the Radio-Thing, My husband is on a murderous rampage, Over.  Wiggum goes Thank God That's Over!  Whatta Goof!
    20th paragraph.  I can't go over 20.  That would be crazy.  It works, though, because I have a song on it called Feeling Great, which is a bastardized version of another line in that 1/3rd of an episode, the thing Homer typed that would be a window into his madness was Feelin' Fine.  So that settled that.  Maybe I do more than 20 paragraphs.  Feels wrong to end it by quoting the Simpsons with no complications.  I don't know.  I'll keep typing until I stop I guess.  What else.  Gotta see an Advisor to confirm I graduate after this semester.  I'd say there's about a 75% chance I do.  I don't like those odds.  They're good odds, but the 25% is pretty terrible if that happens.
    21st paragraph.  What else.  The good news is, if a Professor professes his avid readership of my website, I can trick him into somehow getting my a free ride into the MFA Creative Writing program.  That's how things work, right?  Right?  Maybe.  What else.  Blackmail, essentially.  I'll tell everyone you're internet-abusing me by reading my private Diary.  The School Board would be interested in hearing this!  The point is I Have No Idea How Anything Works.
    Alright.  22nd paragraph.  Jeez.  Been watching Bill Mahar with my parents the last few weeks.  Guess I have to do that again tonight.  I'm Pot-Committed and whatnot.  25 seems within reach.  Metaphorically.  It's not a physicality that can be reached, if we're being honest with each other.  I don't know.  Maybe I'll skip Bill Majaraja.  It's within my legal capabilities to make that decision.  I don't know.  I do feel like going for 25 paragraphs, though, as long as we're being honest with each other.  There's no Each Other, I'm just imposing my Honestness on you.
    That settles that.  Three paragraphs to go!  Sweet.  Sure I've been drinking get off my back about it.  Adult, that's me.  The higher the guitar is tuned, the more likely a string'll break!  I'm just asking for trouble.  Anyway.  I don't know.  I accidentally got into a Ima Comedy Type Fellla mode.  Gotta get back into I'ma Do Music Cause That's What I'm All About mode.  I wonder how to do that.  Probably just strum a few chords of each song on Guitar.  That'll settle that.
    Penultimate paragraph!  Sweet.  I don't know.  Entryin' it up I guess.  Whattado.  Still gotta read a chapter from the Jane Eyre Disability Studies Analysis Book.  I can do that hardcore tonight or tomorrow.  Then I'm done.  Not permanently.  Temporarily.  With life.  That sort of crap.  Jeez.  Now we're gettin' into the real muck of it.  A paragraph and a half to go?  I don't know.  What do you even write?  If it's good, I'd have thought of it already.  If it's bad, you don't wanna leave your audience with a bad impression.  On the other hand, I hardly give a damn.
    Whee!  Last paragraph.  Bill Maher did a bit about being old a few weeks ago.  Old?!  He's one of my 70 comics under 70!  Not sure what the point of that was.  The point is I'm almost done.  Like Bill Maher is, with life.  Jeez.  I don't know.  I wrote fuckin' 25 paragraphs in less than two hours, I think.  Really knockin' some life Out Of The Park.  That's how I feel.  For a while, I've been fairly conscious about my growing adulthood, and felt bad about it.  Who cares.  I can be 30 years old and just not think about it in terms of I'm An Adult Now.  No one would think less of me.  Partly due to no one thinking of me in general at all.  Finally payin' off!  I'll see ya later.

-8:44 P.M.

Monday, September 25, 2017

Puerto Rico's Complaint, or:  It's Fun To Read!.... ?

    Hey friends.  Inbetween classes again.  How are classes going?  Pretty well!  I get to talk in them and make people listen to me.  Mission accomplished.  Which is the title to one of the songs I'm thinking about playing on Sunday.  I've got about 15 songs I'm giving serious thought to playing, and I'll get to play 10-12.  Maybe 13 if I'm lucky.  Got around six songs that are definites (Editors Note-- No I don't, I have like eight or nine that are definite!  WhAt WaS i ThInKiNg?! End Transmission).  Three or four strongly favorites.  The rest are possibilities.  Anyway.  Every day for the last week I came up with a few different potential set lists.  Each day I get better and better.  I should have a really good one by Sunday.
    Excited about it and whatnot.  A little worried I might break a string.  Then I'm screwed.  But I'm not playing with a Pic(k) so I should be okay.  Anyway.  This could be my big break!  I might get upwards of three people to applaud after each song.  Just don't applaud too long!  I got songs to get to!  Jeez.  Apparently, Americans don't care about Puerto Rico.  Let's make a flag with 51 stars and force people to stand for it.  Kill two birds with one stone.  I don't know.  Buying some CD Sleeves online.  We got stacks of blank CDs with nothing to put them in!  That's how that goes.
    Third paragraph.  Watching a movie during AAL class today.  Great, just great.  I can't talk during that.  People would be turned off.  I participated my fair share last week in AAL class without going overboard.  It turns out I can participate in society without being too much of an asshole.  That's a relief.  Jeez.  Started watching HBO's What The Deuce?  It's funny because there's two James Francos.  Cracked that code.  Jeez.  It would normally be the kind of show I would watch with my Mom.  But I can't.  Because of sex.  HBO-- Tearing Families Apart Since 2017!
    Cracked that code.  Anyway.  Fourth paragraph.  Curb back this weekend.  SNL.  The Simpsons.  Got what I most likely will use at the title for my 10 song, 20 minute CD I'll give to people after my show from the Simpsons.  Then watched the episode On Demand and realized it's a bastardized version of the line.  Close Enough!  Damn, that's another good title.  I've given me a lot to think about.  Almost five o' clock.  Time is one luxury I have in spades.  Which is good.  One of the best suits you can have, all things considered.
    Jeez.  Fifth paragraph.  Might do a little bit of drinking when I get home.  That's the habit I've gotten into Monday Nights After Class. (Editors Note-- Yep! BRB IN PAST FORM CYA)  After Typing Midday Entries.  I don't know.  I didn't know I had the option to take a knee during the pledge of allegiance in grade school.  My rights have been trampled on and whatnot.  Oh well, I'll get my revenge.  Huh?  Never mind.  It's not important.  Show in a week!  It could either be really fun or really terrible.  I guess we'll have to wait and see.
    Sixth paragraph.  What the what.  I can't argue with a documentary.  Where's the sport in that.  Apparently people who play sports aren't allowed to have opinions.  Who knew!  Not me. (Editors note--  ITS NOT OPINIONS ITS FACTS. later peace)  I do now, though.  Oh boy do I.  Anyway.  Maybe finish a full ten paragraphs before I get food.  We'll see how it plays out and whatnot.  I introduced a comment I made in Disability Studies, "I have a bad habit of reading this novel very innocently..." which elicited a hearty chuckle.  What can I say, I see the best in people and in situations.  No I don't.  In book form I do.  No I don't.  Yeah but that doesn't elicit hearty chuckles.  Huh?
    Wow.  Seventh paragraph.  I got the first, tenth, and eleventh songs in set pretty much set.  Aiming at eleven, just figure I'll wing it if I get to do another song or two.  Anyway.  I did some research and apparently when making a set list, every song should be in the same key and tempo.  Sounds wrong to me, but who am I to argue.  Unless if it's with documentaries, I hate them so much.  What the what.  Jeez.  Sunday!  I get to do stuff!  As long as a string doesn't break.  It'll be my big break.  Yom Kippur coming up.  Every year, I briefly think, Maybe I'll celebrate it this year, just to mix things up.  I think having that thought counts as observance and performance of Jewish duties.  Good year, please.  Now it's time for you to uphold your end of the bargain!  God!  The best I ever had!
    Eighth paragraph.  I don't know.  Oh, Rochester and Jane.  It's good to see two people so in live.  Really brightens my day.  Jeez.  After a year or two having it stuck on Shuffle, I fixed my Apple Music on my phone to play albums in their intended order.  It's a whole new world.  What the what.  It's essentially led to me listening to Elliott Smith albums every night in anti-chronological order.  That's life I suppose.  Jeez.  I wish I could protest that National Anthem.  I take a knee in my room every night but no one seems to care.  Anyway.  Taking knees is hard.  Because of Lumbar Support or something.  I don't have all the details.
    Ninth paragraph!  Food after tenth.  Then maybe five more.  We'll see how I feel.  The main bad part of Monday Night Class is I have to wait a long time for Bus on the way home.  I'm talkin' 30, 40 minutes.  I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy.  He's my worst enemy, I've got to come up with something much worse in store for him.  (Editors Note-- i got nothin.  whats up with u tho)  That's how that goes!  Well, apparently we're days away from war with North Korea.  That should spice up the kneeling-during-national anthem issue.  That's my take away.
    Tenth paragraph!  What the what!  I don't know.  I'm pretty happy with the decent quality of the songs I could bust out on Sunday.  They're all pretty much good enough.  Sounds good to me.  Now the key is playing them and singing them quality.  (Editors note-- In a congruent key and tempo. lol rememebr from before?? peace)  That's life I guess.  What the what.  People have to respect the national anthem.  Because they're in sports!  Makes sense to me.  Jeez.  Food in a minute.  That sure is something to do.  For some reason.  But I don't want to be a title!  (Editors note-- one of the original titles was "I Don't Want To Be a Title."  Great, huh?  Suck it up, you already are one.
    Alright.  Smoked a cigarette and got a slice of pizza.  Just one for some reason.  Not that hungry.  Kid went, "Dude!" to me after I passed him walking.  I turn around.  "Your shoes are untied!"  How presumptuous.  Having untied shoes is my lifestyle choice.  I'm not on board with your, "Let's all tie our shoes together!" agenda.  I'd get on my knee to protest, but I'm scared I might trip getting back up.  Jeez.  Sold a guy a cigarette, dropped it on the ground while handing it to him.  "Can't be worse than what's already in them."  Elicited a hearty chuckle.
    12th paragraph.  Wow.  Ideally wait 20 minutes before I get back up.  I think I can handle sitting down for 20 minutes.  Remember when it was a big deal Hillary Clinton sat down for eight hours one day.  What was going on there.  I don't know.  Not only do I not get to talk during Documentary, but they didn't even consult me when they were making The Documentary.  There's no me involved at all.  Unless I watch it really good.  Kid sitting behind me will say to the kid sitting behind him, "Check out this kid watching The Documentary, he's really doing a Good Job watching it."  So I got that to look forward to.
    13th paragraph.  May be the last.  I like those odds.  Jeez.  It takes like 10 or 20 minutes to type these up.  I'm just giving myself work.  But Humanity and Our Society As People benefits, so I guess it's worth it in the end.  (Editors note-- lolz rolls my eyes  peace)  Jeez.  Next week will be post-show.  Who knows what life will be like then.  Probably similar to life like now.  Somehow.  Conceiving it, it can either go Awesomely or Really Badly.  Knowing me, and my life, somehow I'll split the difference.  Which probably will manifest itself as me doing pretty badly, but good enough I don't feel too bad.
    Two bad, indeed.  Last paragraph here.  What else is there to say.  Maybe I do terribly and someone goes, "At least you have your health," and it takes 48 hours sink in that I don't really have my health.  That's a scenario.  Don't know whether to pay 30 dollars for the venue to do a professional recording, record it on my iPhone, or don't record it.  Decisions, decisions.  I should introduce my set, "I encourage you all to take a knee for the next dozen songs.  In respect to sports."  I'll see ya later.

-10:31 P.M.

Monday, September 18, 2017

Titles Are Relevant, or: Keepin' It 81%

    That's my opinion.  They lead into the fluff.  I briefly considered the title, "White Is Wonderful," but I used logic to realize sarcasm is fleeting in text.  The connotations when I use the word, Wonderful," are only implied to myself mostly, and without that, it's one of the worst titles you can have.  Anyway.  4:37 P.M.  Next class is at 6:40 or something.  Get food at 5:30.  Smoke a cigarette before I leave Lunch Room.  Then off to class.  I got it all planned out and whatnot.  I closed off Disability Class with a great comment.  Everyone was really impressed by me.  That's life I guess.
    Did Bitter End open mic on Saturday.  Didn't go too great.  I'm hoping my show in less than two weeks goes great.  For rational reasons.  It would be a net positive.  I'm worried being in front of people I know from outside-music will throw me off my game.  It's always been my dream to blame my lack of game on someone else or other people.  Anyway, what the what.  Made a Facebook Event for my show.  Go to the Event Page!  Then go to the show!  Then leave me alone!  I'm starting to put some new titles together for songs.  And have made real steps towards getting my guitar fixed.  That's life I guess.
    Will Food be Halal or Pizza.  Can't say for sure at this point.  Anyway.  Republicanists trying to get rid of our health care again.  If at first you don't succeed, try, try again.  Like three dozen times.  They're due!  But after they fail this time, they'll give it up for sure.  That seems to be what their track record suggests.  It's always been my dream to make it harder for people with pre-existing conditions to get good healthcare! --49% of the United States Senate.  What a country!  Here in Queens College Cafeteria, I'm sitting at a table facing the opposite direction as I was writing this last week.  Feels wrong.  It's about time I got OCD!  It's a rite of passage and whatnot.
    Fourth paragraph.  Maybe get food at 5:15, why not.  The crappy thing about my show is that it will end and I don't have much planned for after that.  Maybe seriously look into MFA creative writing programs, and start working on a writing sample.  I could also go to a Dramatic Writing MFA in the Film or Media Studies Departments of Places.  It's always been my dream to be a T.V. Guy. --49% of the United States President.  Anyway.  Jeez.  Smoke a cigarette with 2 classmates and professor last Monday night during 10 minute break in AAL class.  Now we're best buds.  Which is a good name for a Marijuana Company.  Also, a little late on this, but 10 years ago, there should have been a marijuana strain called George W. Kush.  That's how I feel.  I'm working on a new character called Bad Seinfeld.  Whose bad both in the quality of my impression and the quality of the riffs he/I go on.  Can't do it over the internet.  Then it's essentially just me doing me.  Which is a good thing according to commercials or culture or some impression I get of things people say.
    Fifth Paragraph.  Smoked those Cigarettes from last week.  Still alive.  So I got that going for me.  4:56.  Timewise.  Nowwise.  Pennywise.  They should rewrite the ending of It so that they rescue the clown from his evil, child murdering tendencies.  Because a Penywise saved is a Pennywise earned.  Sorry About that.  What's the deal about that!  You win some, you lose some.  Man, am I facing in the wrong direction.  Anyway.  No class Wednesday.  Got a whole week to do absolutely nothing.  Negligible reading for classes.  That's ok.  Books are alright, that's my mindset closing out my English Language B.A. career.  I think I'll get pizza.  It's a known entity.  Never got Halal Food from a Cafeteria Substore Kiosk before.
    Sixth paragraph.  The guy who what wrote the first book we covered in AAL class had a real popular article on Internet about Trump and was interviewed on MSNBC last week.  The point is I'm famous.  That's how things work, right?  I've seen the movie Hollow Man, so now I'm one degree from Kevin Bacon.  Good for me.  5:02.  Wonderful.  Man am I glad I didn't go with White Is Wonderful.  I lived and learned.  Way to go.  Jeez.  I don't like Jane Eyre.  I'm very naive about peoples motivations in social/romantic situations.  Partly because I don't have situations.  That would explain that I guess.
    Seventh paragraph.  Get food after this one.  Now I feel bad.  I'm not naive anymore!  I participated in a discussion about it and everything.  Jeez.  Sometimes I feel bad about almost being 29.  There's no, "Making up for lost time," in life.  The time is lost.  When I'm 30, I don't just get to pretend I'm 20 and take it from there.  Oh well!  That's life I guess.  Gotta guess something.  Otherwise you'd have no preconceived notions.  And then where would we be.  Ima smoke a cigarette actually.  Then get Food.  BRB.  Alright, walked off campus to smoke, got pizza.  Now it's 5:23.  Not even halfway done with break.  Might have 2-3 drinks tonight. *EDITORS NOTE-- I HAVE (Well, .5 of one at this point.  Anyway, how's it goin.  I'm the editor right now.  It's goin' okay.*  Have been drinking a little more often lately.  That's life I guess.
    Eighth paragraph.  Cafeteria is pretty empty.  Anyway.  Jeez.  Apparently I have low Testosterone and will be starting some sort of medication in a few weeks.  Looking forward to it.  You gotta get up to get down.  Also, I read it improves metabolism.  Gotta lose weight to get down.  Seems like its gonna rain soon.  That's life, sure.  This'll be 10 or 12 paragraphs probably.  Jeez.  Let's get back on track.  Probably will have a mini-second dinner after I get home.  Maybe some chicken nuggets, I don't know.
    What the what.  Two paragraphs to go.  For my 40 minute set, I can go more folk/singer-songwritery heavy, or more vaguely-resembling-rock songs heavy.  Or in the middle.  Leaning towards doing rock songs.  If people show up to listen to it, rock is more the direction I want my music to go in.  In Life.  So I guess that settles that and whatnot.  Only 5:35.  Guess I'll smoke another cigarette, try to wait until 6:00 for that, then go to class.  Anyway.  Eh.  I don't wanna sit here another 22 minutes.  Guess I'll finish 10 paragraphs, then split.
    Alright!  Last paragraph!  Paragraphs are relevant.  That's what I've been led to believe.  White isn't wonderful.  Wonderful.  White is Woooah-Kay!  White is Wallllll-right!  White is WHeiH>..k*EDITORS NOTE-- CANT READ THIS WORD.  I AM SO SORRY*  I don't know.  These are questions we have to ask ourselves.  Maybe.  We don't have to do anything.  One of the perks of being white.  I guess.  Walllright.  I'll see ya later.

-5:42 P.M.

Monday, September 11, 2017

That's What They All Say, or: Man, I'm an Asshole

    Hi friends!  Got my own 40 minute show Sunday October 1st at Sidewalk Cafe.  C'mon down to listen to some utility rock.  Good time guaranteed!  Well, not guaranteed.  Good Time Is Possible.  There we go.  Started Fall Classes.  Learnin' about Disabled and African Americans.  Through Literature!  And they're related because in essence they're classes about identity.  In which I have a lot to say.  My opinion is important because I'm A Great.  No way participating too much in either class could turn off disableds/blacks.  They innately know my opinions and perspectives are more important than theirs.
    That's a paragraph.  Graduation is creeping up.  Whatta jip.  Writing this between classes.  I've got a two hour break.  How do you like them apples?  The real point is I gotta make a conscious effort to just sit back and listen during these classes.  As much as it goes against every instinct I have to talk continuously as much as possible.  I don't like them apples, but what are you gonna do.  40 minute set.  Figure that's 10-13 songs.  Got about 8 or 9 I pretty much definitely want to do.  And some possible orders mapped out I can choose from.  Introduce myself after the first song.  I saw someone do that and it reeked of genuine class.
    Third paragraph.  What the what.  My therapist-doctor left, and I went back to the guy I used to have.  Meet the new psychiatrist, same as the old psychiatrist.  What had been the penultimate psychiatrist.  Jeez.  Crap and crap.  But, yeah, in retrospect, I participated too much in the first session of African American Literature Class.  Professor did say, "Good job today," but I still got the message belatedly.  Through logic and rational thinking and perspective.  Reflecting on my awesome job outtalking all the other kids combined, I suddenly realized, Wait, I'm being an asshole! which is more or less where all my reflections end.
    How do my reflections penultimate.  Probably still in a positive place.  Anyway, fourth paragraph.  I'll get a couple of slices of pizza soon-- to eat-- as dinner.  That's how that goes.  Gonna try the Bitter End Open Mic for the first time this weekend.  I wanna stay fresh for Oct. 1 show, and can't go to the Monday Night Open Mic anymore.  On account of apples.  Anyway.  Saw It on Saturday.  Saw what?  It.  Yeah, but what?  It.  Oh okay I get it you mean It: The Movie now I get it.  Glad we settled that.  I want to get a comedy partner and start doing "Whose on First" for an audience and after three lines the guy goes Oh Okay I Get It.  And it's ambiguous.  Does he really get it, or just wants the conversation to end?  I'm not telling!
    Fifth paragraph.  What the what.  Still a mystery of how many paragraphs I'll fit into this entry.  Gonna go get food 30 feet away after this paragraph.  Anyway.  Found a pack of cigarettes at Bus Stop, with two cigarettes in it, and a note that said, Here's two cigarettes, enjoy."  Extremely suspicious.  And confusing.  I don't know what to make of the situation besides trying with all my might to not smoke the cigarettes.  Anyway, just got the pizza.  Before ending the paragraph.  I'm a false-based-liar.
    Got about 45 minutes before I head off to Next Class.  Genuine class.  Eight to ten paragraphs seems likely.  Not a lot of goofballs in this one.  Better than nothing.  I need something to fill up the days.  This is sixth.  Two and a half more to complete eight.  That's math for you.  Lots of extreme weather.  If any 17 year olds read this, go into Meteorology School!  You'll make a killing.  I wouldn't be surprised if Climate Change Deniers are al in the pocket of Big Meteorology.  Gotta be not surprised about something.
    Seventh paragraph.  If I want to go to Grad School for creative writing, I need to have a writing sample to submit by December.  That's hard.  Either poetry, a play, or short story.  I've tried to adapt the Gang of Nine characters, give 'em real names, write a story around them.  So far, to no avail.  That's life, I guess.  I wonder what I won't learn in African American Literature CLass because I'll be too busy talking as if my thoughts are the only ones that matter.  Anyway, great.  Damnit, I still have 35 minutes before I get up.  That's a lot of minutes.
    Eighth paragraph.  AT least I'll get to a respectable ten paragraphs.  It's always been my dream to do something that's respectable.  Finishing my first slice of pizza.  One left!  Such is life.  If I were going to Open Mic tonight, I'd be arriving t Bayside LIRR Station right about now.  Such is life.  Jeez.  Life is a snooze these days.  And when the good parts of life, making people listen to me, aren't going as well.  Jeez.  What the what.  Started reading Jane Eyre for Disability Class.  She's disabled because she's a woman?  I don't have all the details.
    Ninth paragraph.  What else.  I don't know what to do when I get home.  I don't know what to do a lot in general.  That's how that goes.  Show in three weeks.  Gotta make a Facebook Event this week.  For strategy.  Hoping a people or two will see it and then come Strategy.  I want to hand out free 10 song/20 minute CDs of my more recent music to anyone who shows up at my show, whether I know them or not.  It's a clever ruse designed to get people to listen to my music.  Anyway.
    Tenth paragraph.  What the what.  Two weeks ago, during the first time I had these classes with a break, I wrote a paragraph introducing Short Story.  Then, today, started over and wrote a new two paragraphs.  At this rate, I'll have a fresh two chapters by the time I'm dead!  Alright!  I also wrote a couple of songs that break two weeks ago.  Nothing great.  I assume.  I'm not gonna re-read them, cause I'm sure they're terrible.  Damn, I just read them.  Possibly literally the worst songs I ever wrote.  The good news is one more paragraphs.
    11 seems good.  Jeez.  Got about 20-30 minutes until I wanna get up.  You gotta get up to get down.  Jane Eyre is weird.  It's written by and about a woman and I'm not sure I understand those things.  All I know is these classes are interesting and relevant, but I gotta learn to shut up, sit back, and enjoy the ride.  That's what notes in Found Cigarette Packs imply.  And also, not makg myself the conductor.  I you can't be conductor, what's the point of being on he train?  To get to a place?  I can't even imagine!  Oh, hey.  Last week on way to Open Mic, a guy or lady fell down the track at the NQRW, train was extremely close, people were going crazy, waving over the gap to get the train to stop.  It did.  Some Adult Male jumped down and pushed the person who fell up.  Stupid regular height and strength Adult Males.  They they're they're so great just because they can save people's lives.  I hate them so much.

-10:45 P.M.