Someone gave me a pebble awhile back. It made only a small ripple but that ripple carried. Someone had asked me, “Doesn’t Noding for Numbers still work?” Paraphrased of course, but, I decided to take it the next step and turn it into action. I am looking around and I am seeing we have many niche people here, and instead of duking it out with them for top dog status, I rather take an unclaimed nuance. That being randomness. Yep, I am trying to mimic the human brain's thought process in my writing.
And, you know the daylogs have had a depressing turn out compared to yester-year. So here I am, to rock you like hurricane.
Let me tell you what, it is wet. So wet.
Yep, big system.
I would not want to live out east.
The mississippi.
Man, I am taking up a lot of space having only one Idea at a time.
I want copious amounts of contingents with cohesion of a clairvoyant degree.
Yep. That is right. ESP, B. C. E. Representing Area code Three-zero-three. Cracker. Now step down before I put you down. I am the king of insults, man I got massive vaults with yo-mama jokes and cut down scriptures; plus, tons of incriminating pictures.
Just messing I only keep the green cheddar in my safe.
I think destiny and fate are intertwined coming together to form a vortex, and when you are in the vortex you know. And ,you know that you know, you know? There are signs that relate directly to your current feelings. It is actually somewhat cool finding cosmic guidance.
I wish my roommate would find some guidance. I am talking physical and mental guidance. He is really off his rocker. I do not think he even knows where he is right now. It is actually somewhat weird. He keeps opening and shutting his door, peaking through the crack and asking questions.
“Who’s there? Is that you amber? Why aren’t you saying anything?”
Dude no one’s knocking on your door, you are hallucinating. The amphetamine psychosis has taken ahold, and you fucking lost it bro. It is only me here, go back to bed and get some sleep.
I always thought dealing with crazy people would be really fun, it is always something new with them. Boy was I wrong, it is nothing like you expect.
I thought it would be cool feeding into people’s paranoia.
I find myself many times being very rational with my comments take this last one.
I say, “Just lie down and go to sleep”
He says, “Okay.”
(Click of the door shutting behind my roommate.)
Then Coming from his blacked out room comes the all too paranoid “I see you.”
Oh my god, not only can he see through walls, he can see in the dark. He’s the… He is the one and only Super Bat Man.
Okay, I guess it can be somewhat of a blast, but you must play along or it just becomes annoying.
You know.
So, in other news, the weather has been wet around my neck of the woods. Really wet, Northern-west coast wet. Therefore, I have had a couple extra days off this week to smash and slam the keys on my keyboard in an attempt to get it on like Donkey Kong.
(Hold on while I do a little research for this next comment.)
So, King Kong’s folk lore puts him at a 50 foot gorilla, or close ten times its original size. While other myths say, it is about 4 times the original. Now down to the fun bits, and that is, the male gorilla’s penis size is about one and half to two inches. That would make the Kong’s Kong anywhere from four to 12.5 inches for the lower side of the equation. Now, I don’t know exactly where I was going with this, but this is good thing to know, especially if you are an attractive woman living in a high-rise apartment complex in New York City.
I just playin’, but I am sayin’ do not trip mister or I let a missile slip from the pistol’s muzzle’s grip then guzzle the swizzle to forget the drizzle on my sizzle’s fizzle; and on the granite we will chisel your name and date then it is a short skate back to the crib so I can masturbate.
Yeah, that is right, outta sight, bright like white light with no laws to cite.
High as a kite, weak with no might, and nothing to write, no not even someone’s plight.
Get ready to fight the night away cuz’ this shit is trite and it is time to get your head back on tight.
Just wait, 788 on the slate, and we got people throwin’ their weight thinking they can control fate.
But what we got is free will you swill, so take your shot, but I won’t stop till I am on top.
Pop off, and get knocked off, it is nothing to get caught off guard, and be buried in the back yard, off everyone’s radar.
Charred earth, doesn’t care because the gift to give birth, but it that is what you want, it is the battle of the girth.
I am an intellectual heavy weight, perfectly proportioned with no orientation required.
Hey you, are you looking for a job as a rapper?
(/me looks around suspiciously.)
I can see you can put more than two rhyming words in a sentence and that is something to be admired, and it sounds like you are fired up and have something to say.
No way, you want me to go tours and shit, get on stage in front of a crowd and spit to them simple life lessons. You gotta be messin’ around with me, of course I would do it, I would do it for free.
Now that was a little Dr. Suess-ish, I want your shit to be fresh, and for it all to mesh like flesh.
Ok let try something new, come together now over me. (He’s got feet down below his knees.)
Let’s go back to what you just said their, come together now over me, if you look at that any other way than sexually it doesn’t really make sense. I guess you could look at it spiritually but you would have to go pretty damn deep, if you know what I mean.
You know what is a dirty word but not really, octopus, just think about it. Someone had only one thing on his mind when he named that, and he had a lot of it on his mind at the time, eight of them to be precise.
He must have gone mad from the constant struggle of pleasing eight vaginas.
Too far?
No, not at all. Do go on.
Well then, I am going to plead the fifth, Fifth Amendment that is...
Quick quiz, can you name the first four Amendments without looking them up.
I will tell you right now, I could not answer the third one; someone stumped me the first time I was asked, so do not feel too bad about it.
1) The Right to Freedom of speech
2) The Right to Bear arms (hehe, and bear claws )
3) The Right to Not to have to quarter a soldier in time of peace
4) And the Right against unlawful searches and seizures
That is freaky, after the enumerated list of 4 points; my word count was one thousand, two hundred and thirty-four.
(Contemplates explaining a theory about what he thinks the universe is like.)
It would be like. I think. You know sort of. That feeling you get. Occasionally. Where you feel insignificant. Just a speck of dust. Than the next moment. You are everything. You are at one. Expanding while contracting. Positive and negative. In a constant state of stagnated flux. It is Heaven but yet it is still Hell.
That is a good place to wrap it up.
I found a dictionary the other day, nice one too. It was sitting in a dumpster placed nicely on some papers that looked like they might have come from some kind of tutoring school. The dictionary was front-cover up just like someone left it on the table, but this someone had strewn the papers about in haphazardly fashion.
I think someone may be stalking my every move.
I wonder how much they know.
Do they know that I am gay although I do not smile?
Oh well.
I like to be treated special. You know.
I also like to feel special, but that is me bringing up the whole universe topic again.
I would apologize but I have not done anything wrong.
I toke a little bit from the vaporizer, but I don’t mean any harm in what I say, I am only kidding. Take no stock in my word, if you get upset this means you have invested in your own opinion. Take pride in this, for this is a good thing.
Whatever ‘this’ is?
Shut up, you.
Me?
No, the cat.
What cat?
Didn’t you say you have two cats.
No, I wrote that I had two cats, big difference.
Sorry, my mistake.
It’s cool, bro. No worries. One love, and I am out.
Nah, I am just joking I am still here, haven’t left yet. I am pretty good at entertaining myself, you see, I am an only child.
I remember going out to the little grass section between apartment buildings, and throwing the ball up in the air and trying to hit it with the heavy wood Louie my uncle gave me. I end up giving up and switching up to a tennis racket but returned to that little grassy spot so I could hit the tennis ball across the street, although there was a tennis court only one block up from where I was playing.
I guess you might have had to be there for that one, you know, but it is funny to me in retrospect. I guess we all do some half-brained, air headed things when we are kids, don’t we? I just know I cleared the street that day with the tennis racket something I could not do with the baseball bat.
This whole trying to write five hundred words a day is a lot like owning a credit card. It you used a credit card every month; you could accumulate a debt so large you could never pay it off.
Oh well, right, you get what you get. The rules are there, somewhere, in fine print. At least one would hope. My first instinct would be to assume there are rules in place, but you know what they say about people and their assumptions.
Man, this fucking sucks, write about something else. I don’t care what about, just something that doesn’t sound like whining.
It’s my party and I’ll cry if I want to, cry if I want to, cry if I want to, and you would too if it happened to you.
Play my all records, keep dancing all night.
Damn that Judy, she is a little bitch, but that is a catchy little tune, is it not.
Johnny he is innocent. It is an Adam and Eve kind of thing, I don’t expect for you to understand.
Girls just want have fun.
I tell you want I want, what I really, really want…
I want to be a paperback writer.
Actually let me tell you a story, it’s kind of personal so do take a look.
So, when I was much younger, kid status, I guess a year or two after the potty training stage. My mom said to me are you having any troubles when I was going to the bathroom. I must have just went or something, actually I am sure of it. It could be a manufactured memory but I doubt it. So, I just defecated, and my is asking me if I am having an complications. And at this age, I guess, I don’t know, I thought the sight discomfort I had when tuckin’ my junk, when it came time to sit down and to do both, may have been a problem so I told her. In the way a kid under cerebral development might have put it.
“Yeah, I am having problems when I sit down to pee.”
"Then don’t sit down.”
“But it’s when I am pooping.”
(My mom’s boyfriend throws his two cents in.) “Do you dribble on your balls?”
This is when I chimed in with whatever I might have said and everyone in the room; my mom, her boyfriend, and maybe someone else, memory says they may have been more people, realized my endowment. People were shocked then it became something of amusement for them.
“Oh that is the least of your worries.”
Along with a whole bunch of other crazy shit that was just still over my head and out of reach.
I tell you what. Good times growing up with biker parents. Perhaps maybe that is where I get it from, you know. An early glimpse at the constant search for the remnant scraps of the American dream has warped my mind.