reading between the pickup lines

I'm sorry, that title sounds like a chapter in some self help book. I apologize...



-hey, you wanna go out with me?

-why?

-so we can hold hands.

-why don't we just hold hands anyways?

-you know what? never mind. I don't want to even know you anymore. Freak!




-love hurts-

theraputic...

that's what blog posting is; theraputic.

When I post, I feel like I'm skinny dipping.


The anonimity of it lets me whip out capitan dangle, and just drift around in my ocean of brains and shit.

Wait, what's that floating off in the distance? It's Jimmy Hoffa!!


I'm naked right now.

as naked as naked can be.

well, not really. But hey...


I wonder if I would write better naked. Or even if it would be different.

I'm pretty sure it would be different.
oh, I know...
I could hit space bar with,
. . . Never mind.

.

.


.


.

.

naked.

How to write an interesting paragraph...

The topic of this weeks paragraph is how to write an interesting paragraph. Begin with a fascinating explanation of what the paragraph will begin with, getting the reader all excited about the paragraph he is about to read. It is going to be marvelous. Splendid. Spectacular. He will throw back his legs and pollute his britches with joy. He will puddle happiness all over the floor, and mop it up with his hair. It will make him so happy, he will begin to violently laugh, until it makes him gag. Gagging on a piece of his rapidly falling out hair, the reader trips over a bench, falling here...
to be found, drowned in a pool of his own vomit, piss, and blood.


And that is all.

I feel I should say something.

You know something?

No matter what, upon writing, or saying, or even thinking that phrase, "I feel I should say something" You instantly lose anything worth saying. It all vanixhes intoo the night sky, like so many puffs of pipe smoke.

'cept, um, Welll...

I worked today...

I learned just why work sucks. You can work all day, as long as you know. But than, your trainer leaves for the day. You try to mix dough in the giant bowl. Like a dough cauldron. It all goes to shxt. Nothing goes the way it went when he did it. Things catch fire. Things become obxcenely sticky and obnoxcious, which so recently, you had seen him quietly slip into a giant plastic baggie.

Now, I know what hating work is...

It's dreading those hours when there's no one to ask "so, how exactly do I cut the dough for twists?"

Tomorrow night is gonna be fine. I just make pizzas, wash dishes, and wipe countertops until 10 pm. but the mornings? Shit no!!


peaxe

my brain...

I don't know why, but last night my brain felt like this:


the End

Yeah... something cool happened to me too...

I... umm... was invited to drink last night. And then, (get this), I didn't. It was lots of fun. I went into my room and played mashed... *heheh*
Am I being boring or something, because all of Dedinahundrejeerz posts are way the fsck too interesting to be real! Or maybe I just still live in the valley.
In a trailer in my parents' driveway. And bring cans of soup to school. Where I hobble around on crutches looking like an impoverished pathetic little crippleboy.
Is this making any sense, or is it just me?

But I did have a cool dream last night. Let me tell you about it.
I forget. Fsck you if you care. I'm gonna go find something interesting to do... not really.

But can I truly leave it at that? My subconsciousness tells me that somewhere in time I have a story to tell. I don't even watch any TV, and I can't remember the last time something interesting happened to me.
Maybe it was when I went to Big Sur with some buds and some buds (2 cases of bowie). That was interesting.
YEAH! I'm done.

howly shiznizzlittt...

So...

I had excessive amounts of alcohol. Than, in a state of extreme consciousness, I decided that instead of going to sleep and snoozing through my first class, I would stay up all night, and go to my first class (9:00 AM) go home, and sleep through the day. So, I drank another white russian, smoked a bit, and walked up to the train station, because a train was coming. I watched the train go by; quite theraputic. I highly recomend it...

I saw a man standing, watching the train go by, just like I was. I walked over, and began talking to him.

"Trains are cool. Yada yada yada... and than we started talking about everything. I felt obliged to stay and talk to him for 3 and a half hours, so I did. Now I'm done. He's still up there, in the train station lobby, because it opened a few minutes ago.

Fiskin eh! That was bixarre!//

How often do you meet a vietnam vet, and talk to him for 3 and a half hours between 1:30 and 5:30 in the AM?

He was a catholic. We spake of religion, the horrors of war, substance abuse, and a bunch of other jive and jiggles...


and now I'm about to pass out, so I'm goona make-a me some-a coffee--aa ..


ha ha!!
until next time; good afternoon, good evening, and goodnight...

Questions best left unanswered

So, I was workin, see? and the manager, this one dude, put the radio on country.
Alright. I don't really mind. Moving on.

This one song came on that went something like this;

nothin' on but the radio.

the soft music that'll soothe the soul.

You and me and the lights, down... low.

nothin' on but the radio.

Now, here's my question.

What does that mean?

does he mean the only thing "turned on" is the radio, and his significant other no longer causes to awaken in him carnal passions of reproduction?

does he mean they tried to watch TV, but there was nothing on, so they're listening to the radio?

does he mean they don't have any music, so they have to listen to the radio?

or, and here's my theory,

does he mean they're both naked listening to the radio?


That's why I love country, there's so many layers of meaning...

I have a story too...

One time I had cable. I was like 5 years old, and I don't really remember being 5 years old at all. I just remember that one episode of Inspector Gadget... Now I don't have cable, and remember all too much.
Like today. I woke up around 9:30 to music, fell asleep at 9:35, woke up again at 9:45:27 (when I heard my dad outside and the music switched to "It's a motherfscker". Then I changed the music. Then I fell asleep again. Then my dad woke me up, and I fell asleep again. Then my mom came in and woke me up, and I fell asleep again. Then more profanities were slipping out the open mouths of my gigantic speakers, so I decided it was time to wake up. My foot hurt. (see previous post on sprained ankle), and my armpits hurt, (see previous post on my adventures in cabrillo on crutches, carrying a 50 pound bag of books)... etc...
But it was a good day. I brushed my teeth yesterday. That made me very happy today. Not that I don't brush my teeth everyday. It's just one of the various exciting things that I like to recount as I sit in my room and not watch cable TV. ("gee", I say as I sit pondering the last few weeks, "I sure wish I could brush my teeth again right now"). I wish I had cable. I could save so much more brainspace by reformatting the old mental harddrive with a good dosage of MTV or SpikeTV.
You have to see my new toothbrush...
It's so cool.

I spoke, and they heard me not

Well well well well well...

So. I can't afford cable. Or at least that's what I thought. But what do I know? I'm just a lowly consumer.

The bill was 2 weeks late, and I was still as broke as a Saigon Poker champion.
I decided I'd better call the old cable dudes up and tell them there was no money coming from this house.
and so, with a ringy ding ding, I was connected to someone.

"Hello, this is Christina. I'm here to prove to you beyond a shadow of a doubt that you can afford cable. Job, after he lost all his cattle and children, and got boils, still could afford cable. And not basic local cable. We're talkin HBO, and STARZ and..."

(I have to interupt this story, because I just saw a one armed man. He lives across the street. I never even knew there was a one armed man just a stone's throw away from my house. Hey, that gives me an idea...)


Now that we're through with that, back to the story at hand...

"... Comedy Central, and E, and VH1, and MTV, and all that great rubbish. He had no cash, so we accepted payment from him in the form of decorative potschards with paintings on them. If you have no cash, we can let you have cable for 2 years, at the end of which we come and collect payment in the form of one of your kidneys. Or you could get the 10 year plan; you get everything I mentioned for 10 years, and we take your first born son."

I get confused easily, I don't like confrontation. I'm allergic to strangers. She kept talking. She kept lowering prices. She kept giving me more and more and more. And all she wanted in return was $45.05 a month. She even reduced the bill I owed her from $130.00 to $87.07. I almost cried. She was so nice and wonderful to me. I didn't deserve this kind of person. Or cable. But I accepted it anyways.

Than, a week later, (that's today) I realized that when I said I couldn't afford it, I meant it. I paid the bill I owed them of $87.07, and gave them a call.

"listen, I realize how much sacrafice and blood and sweat you put into fiving me all the channels I could possibly care for, and even about 115 that I couldn't possibly care for, and ask only $45.05 in return. I realize you should get some sort of peace prize for this noble work you do, of sending out some pittance of shelter and sedation from the evils of reality. But, in my present condition, with my present check book, I can no longer support your noble cause."
"Excuse me while I transfer you to the correct agent."
"Hello this is Marsha."
"Marsha? These calls are recorded for assurance of acceptable service, right? well, could you just play back what I just said, because it was to long to repeat."
*pause*
"so, mister Hulter, you can't even afford $45.05 a month? Well, than I guess we have no other option than to give you next month free."
"Um, thank you. I'm sorry I doubted your humanitarian cause. I should have known you would find a way for me to stay as one of your people..."

It's just such a beautiful thing.


It's kinda wierd to. a week ago I was $130.00 in debt, and now I get a month of free cable. And not just basic local cable. We're talkin expanded cable, HBO, and STARZ, and Comedy Central, and E, and VH1, and MTV, and all that great rubbish..

I love how they make me feel so victorious, as if I've just won an amazing prize, when I'm still paying to have my time wasted...
dam.


Charlie Brown would get raped if he were real.