I fell behind some time last week after a day from hell, and after the next night fighting me with every move, I decided to give the old 500 a day a break for a week. Now, this is my come back, tack on another 250 a day with no limits, and I might be able to, in a way, finish my goal, in a different sense. You know what I mean, right?

So that night I wanted to roll over and die, because during the day, hell had sent out its minions to wreak shit and cause dismay. Although I cannot remember the specifics, this last week, I would have two 15 minute lunches and host of other boss-taking- advantage-of-this-bad-ass situations. At the end of these moments in my life is where I really find myself, and come to understand who I really am.

I can look around and see many normal men throwing in the towel and/or even getting hurt, I am not bragging or anything, I am just saying, I am larger than life.

It is easy; when you realize you work harder, expect better quality work from yourself compared to others, to think of yourself as a god. Hell, I could, you know, in a past life time, have been cut from the same fabric as the gods. That would explain a lot, actually.

But, enough about me and work, and being so damned reliable people are dependent on me. What have you been up e2?

I see bookreader has made a list in commemoration of his 100th write-up, an idea, you see, that I had a few years back. Although I made mine after a year of submitting nonsense to the severs to see exactly what would stick. It still is a novel idea nonetheless, and I did like that little mini rant about his daylog about two-word poems. It is so fitting to see another member of the site bitching about the lack of freedom to express our opinions here.

Everyone, staff included, should be forced to maintain the stupid rules and regulations regarding offensiveness on this website so it can make the monies off Google ads. So what if the first fucking amendment says something about freedom of speech. This is a new world with a new world order, and we simply do not value other people’s opinions in this day and age.

As you can see, I am taking or using the longer string of words instead of the grammatical correct short version so I can beef out my word count, rather than drift recklessly into this, I have some focus. Not much but it is there.

So, my next topic, I think, should be about lists because bitching about my girlfriend and how we are both feeling a little underappreciated is slightly off base, and not the logical conclusion. The logical conclusion would be me talking about trying to get in the habit of making lists to help remind me of all the crazy and badass ideas I have during the day. Although finding time to enter my ideas into the notepad might be another story. But, as you could probably garnish, my short term memory is shot and holding on to little ideas seems to be quite a chore for me, and that notepad would do wonders. I just need to make a habitual habit out of writing down every little thing that rings bells in my head, because even if half of one percent of my bingers are put on ice and saved for a later day, I will be recognized as one of the great, I know this. I know this to be a fact.

You see, once upon a mid-morning dreary, I read a head in my Akashic records, and it said I would talk shit and be successful in my accords.

So eat a dick, bitch, I do what I want.

No wait, stop. I can just imagine how terrible the world would become if everyone acted as I did in that last sentence. It is not a cool when someone disregards everyone else around them and acts as they please. We do live together in this society; let us try to make the best of it, so everyone can be happy.

And I know, I am on slippery slope, but...(Sorry, I had to go honor the snow gods for their wonderful work this morning.) But... you get the point.

I think I am going to just keep going, knock off as much of this debt as I can. I hate debt. That fact is the main reason why I do not own a credit card. I do not see swiping a little piece of plastic and using other people’s money at interest when I have my own. And NO, Thank You, I know how to save, I am a Jew. I even read Jew literature; here is some for you, you and you.

I know, I know, I know, bad joke. Fortunately, I did not incorporate the bad pun as well. I guess I do have a sense of taste after all.

Man, I don’t know how to carry on after a flop like that; Chris Rock, how do you do it?

“Act like it never happened and add a laugh track in productions.”

How can you put quotations around a quote that you just made up?

Oh it is you, Mr. Crazy Fingaz, you silly bastard, when will you ever learn.

Well, I gots the call from the other and she says get ready to leave, if I return in time I will add more, but I did good for the morning, dontcha think?

(Approximately 11 minutes has elapsed.)

So I am ready and waiting to go and my cat's takin’ a leak in the box, and I was like I have to clean that thing, it is only moderately filthy. So, that is what I am going to go do now, I hope I can think of, or remember something smart to say when I am done.


(Another 9 hours elapse.)

Where was I?

Oh, the catbox. I see. I can see clearly now. The rain is gone. So on and so forth. You know how the song goes. Okay, damn. What am I doing here? Oh, that’s right, trying to make sense out of that analogy.

It is a catbox, you expect it to be moderately filthy, if it is clean than something is definitely wrong. Am I right? And, how can you get mad at Duke for leaving his duce uncovered when Raoul is using up all the liter with his kitty diabetes. In addition, to make it even more complicated these cat’s in the catbox are really girls and not guys and those are not their names at all. I really hope your following, it's just gets deeper from here on out. Actually, never mind, we have gone too deep already.

Okay, I see the point has already been made, shall we move on?

Or shall we linger like a stale fart?

(Approximately 33 minutes later.)

This thing is moving in slow motion. So I asked someone to toss a rock in my cerebral pond. I would learn I was the one tossing the rock in to another person’s pond but back to the subject at hand.

The first response was about candy and spring; the wave patterns canceled each other out, nothing of use. I tossed, they tossed, we tossed another rock.

This is what we got.

“Rainbows and storm clouds bring droplets of water. The droplets will in turn grow the trees to a giant length, giving the air more oxygen, so therefore the rainbows help us breathe.

He asks her to tell him about butterflies and fireflies and still waits a reply.

So there you have it folks, an original snippet from my life. Doesn’t get better than that.

What the hell is that shit?

Oh, that is just Jack’s over active imagination running out of things to talk about.

Oh! Okay!? Whatever you say, you are the big Lebowski.

Now, that was a good movie.

/me puts an end to the rhyming talk.

Whatever dude, I just want my fucking rug.

Oh don’t mind Ted, he’s a nihilist.

Jesus fucking Christ is it Easter yet? I gave up religion as one of my vices, and I have learned that without it, I have nothing to talk about.

God, it was a joke. Take a chill pill. Give me my voice back.

Ok so a vengeful deity has smithed my words because of a bad joke.

To what point do you let risk run your life? Me, I do not even know the definition of risk. Is it not that a badass game everyone is playing?

I want to leave you with some more subtle genius of my girlfriend.

“When the light from the day has passed, Fireflies dance in the dark with no regrets.”

One month ago, I fled my apartment and (with much reluctance) went back to City Shelter. Almost immediately, I caught a cold, and an incontinent bladder. My popularity was not great.

One week later, I went back to my apartment, hoping only to get rid of it with rest and (perhaps) better food. I was driven back by the hellish conditions after one night.

Two weeks ago, I caught gastroenteritis, and began to soil myself. Some ORT later, I was described as smelling "fishy". A general epidemic folllowed in the shelter.

One week later, I caught (I thought) another cold. I went to a motel this time, and had an asthma attack (I thought). I went to St. Rafael's for emergency treatment.Somewhat later, I was discharged, minus a promised dinner of steak from the Room Service.

One day later, I went back to the shelter, where I spent one night, vowing to return to the motel to pick up my clothing. On my way there, I stopped to eat a hamburger and fries at a local high-end eatery.

Several hours later, I began vomiting. I went back to the hospital, and was found to have a severely herniated small intestine. Six hours of surgery later, I emerged with a sore belly, and a newfound interest in cable television

Now I am in the Rehab Building, where I've fallen prey to strange dreams, possibly through watching Adventure Time and Galaxy Quest, and perhaps reading Remains of the Day and  Cory Doctorow's Chicken Little.

Dream One: I'm living with some young men who enjoy two obsessions: dancing and incense. Although not a good dancer, I win their interest by showing them a new kind of incense.

Dream Two: I'm in New York City, and in a new kind of bar: there are huge pictures of cocktails on the wall, with their prices. The tables are arranged on a flight of stairs to simulate a sea coast.


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