an online word depository

Monday, September 8, 2014

I Was So Excited When I Got Courier To Work The First Time

Look at that beautiful weather outside. It's going to rain somewhere and hopefully it here. Rain rain lead astray the putrid souls who all must pay, drown them in your righteous flood, soak the soil in their blood. Ahhh, I miss sunday school sometimes. Not really though that shit was crippling to young minds. Everything that is packaged as fun seems like it to a kid, but the seeds planted in that room germinated into some gnarly fucking shit that sent me on many internalized wild goose chases and terrifying thoughts. There is a terrible lack of acknowledgement that the individual person could be wrong about at least half the shit they hold to be true in their life. And even if some of the things you believe are true, what matters more is how you express yourself using your own truths as a guide. 10 times out of 10 I will take the good hearted (non prostletyzing) Christian over a conceited and self assured atheist. Give me the Muslim with a love for puns before a humorless professor of any of the serious sciences. I do owe a great deal of mental calmness to one Dick Dawkins but I don't think I'd ever find myself in want of his company. Especially after hearing that he was on Twitter trying to categorize rape. That is an overly scientific mind right there. Where are the echoes of common sense or understanding that should keep a person from using his position to do something as silly, pointless and genuinely damaging? Would Hitch have done such a thing? Well, he say that women weren't funny, even writing a column or two about the subject. I don't recall many of the points he made, I think he might've said soemthing along the lines of "on the whole, comparitively, women aren't as funny as men," but even if one would concede that point the cause of the disparity has more to do with the way our cultures shape the minds of young girls and women. Better to be pretty than to see the silliness in everything. My god, how many delightful women have been crippled by this kind of thinking.

Dear reader, whoever you are, understand that humor is paramont in this world. I'm going to contemplate more about it later but I cannot find any line of reasoning where humor wouldn't come out as the most important aspect of being a human. So much goodness stems from it even though a lot of people's humor develops as a result of some sort of shittiness or even trauma. Rant rant rant. I am 30 and am now in a position to lecture. Hear me, hear me.

And now I climb nback into my thoughts and wonder, should I have kept drawing? No, that thought doesn't matter, here's a better thought, should I start drawing again? I haven't done it in years, and the way my mind works is if it's not in some way good or even compotent I should throw it away. But what would I draw? I think the last series of things I drew were hyper sexualized comic book characters. Eighty years later and they're still drawing them that way. It sells books though, I guess, but it's a goddamn cop out you lazy fucks. How dare you have no pride in what you do. How dare you have none of the drive to stand up to your fucking know nothing bosses and demand that a new way be paved in regards to portraying super powered fuckfaces. I have half a mind to actually do something about my outrage rather than pointing out and condemning the offense whenever and wherever I see it through a means of howling and pointing.

Then a voice whispers to me, "or you could lead by example." Sorry, the voice is new and knows nothing of my insane laziness or treacherously fickle self confidence. Wait… I thought I took care of those problems… Fuck me I did. Why don't I then? Wait, why am I saying all this here? Shhhhh.

In the meantime I still have room for more words. The sun is coming out, breaking up the party, fucking jerk. Burning up all my water vapor friends chilling out in the sky trying to share themselves with our skins and soil. Sometimes when I watch the sun break up weakened clouds I imagine it bellowing with deep and frightening laughter. The clouds, so young, so idealistic, can do nothing but vaporize in the presence of this celestial maniac. Where are the hero clouds? Where are those strong enough to stand before the onslaught of the sun and become so heavy with growth that they can only share it with the poor flightless souls below. If you even think about arguing the importance of the sun in the rain cycle I will drive an ice pick into your fucking heart. Do not tread on my fun.

My back hurts from sitting. It could be worse, it could be hurting again from something terrible I've done, but really I have kept my nose clean in the "bad shit" department for some time. It's all objective though, some could argue that my not having written a new bible is "some bad shit." Objectivity… you fucking bleached blond bastard. I mean as long as we're assigning human attributes to concepts why not give objectivity the boring white surfer look. You wouldn't see it coming would you? You'd think it would be a boring white scientist or something. Wrong. Completely wrong.

When I grow up I want to be happy. That's what I've should've been saying all along. Better late than never though. Does it matter how much time you've wasted as long as you get to the right place eventually? I wonder. Arguments could be made from both sides but in the end I'm certain that as long as you get there, it doesn't matter how late you were. The clouds are coming back though. Would this be a good time to cruise? To jet? To make like a tree and leaf? That one doesn't make sense, or maybe I'm trying to make too much sense. That's one of those things they don't teach you to look out for in school, making too much goddamned fucking sense. It's not fun, and fun as we all know is the most important thing to seek once your biological needs have been met. After you eat, drink, sleep and rest, you think of fun things to do in order to pass the time before the next disaster comes and threatens your entire world. What the fuck am I even talking about. I would read all of this again and see if it'd be worth posting butI think I'm going to post it anyhow and just hope for the best. Eventually I'll compose some sort of greatest hits or get my groove back and bury this entry beneath an ocean of finely worded bullshit. Ahh I can't wait, it'll be fantastic.   

Thursday, September 4, 2014

Jumbei Jubah Go?

The first thing I remember watching on the first day of the Year of the Bloated Phoenix was the first few seconds of a Katt Williams special where he espoused something very important sounding. It was enough motivation for me and I paused it and set off for the new ritual of the morning walk, which progresses into the afternoon scorched Earth firey sunwalk. I'm trying not to do it bare footed by god dammit I'm just too bad ass not to.

How dare you bring up my near death experience from bleeding out cause of walking for hours on concrete bare footed. That was a fluke.

What is a fluke? What is the entymology of that word? It sounds fucking incredible. Fluke. What a marvelous word. It makes me think of some sort of whimsical cetacean who gets into all kinds of mischief by waving at whale watching groups. Certainly there are sociopathic people in whale watching groups I mean who the fuck would even pay for something like that. One of those untrustworthy bastards would see this carefree sea mammal and become overwhelmed with murder lust, just like I was the first time I saw the Bucky's mascot. For those of you with no education, Bucky's is a gas station chain in certain parts of Texas that excel at having amazing bathrooms and punny billboards up and down the interstate. The mascot is a cartoon beaver wearing an expression that forces the body to mimic the implied "GAWRSH" that the beaver is obviously expressing.

Anyways, something I love about certain women is when they let their guard down and behave completely free of fear of criticism or critique or unwanted advances. There was a girl at town earlier who was walking with an incredible amount of deflective body language going on. Then she walked to a row of books set up on the sidewalk of the town square and she noticed something that completely disarmed her. Whatever it was caused her to express visible curiosity and excitement and it was beautiful to behold. Know that the world I live in right now makes it hard for many women to be completely open out in the open for fear of all kinds of unwanted notice. This supress so much beautiful human expression I can't even finish the sente...

No, shake it off. You're not here to succumb, you're here to excel! You are a production machine now, in that you actually produce now. So, a very poorly functioning production machine, but at least you're margins are in the green now. Slightly green. Last days of dying grass green. But green.

Today is Beyonce's birthday and as a gift to Queen Bey I think I'm going to download her entire discography. Or maybe not. Most would disagree with me but I feel like I wouldn't love every single one of her songs.

Jagged structure and skipping thoughts. That's how I write. You can imagine some muttering shitsack looking back and forth going "HUH?!" and "WAH?!" This is how my words look on the page. Editors have been known to say to their assistants, "burn it all, everything he sent, but give him a gift card or a loaf of bread or something… If he moves anywhere close to this area we need to notify the police." I hope there are no editors named Todd or Skyler. I mean my name is pretty shitty but at least it doesn't ooze off the page due to a weakness so intense that the letters arranged in that way can't even sustain themselves on the page.

Hey, did you know human breasts can do something akin to experiencing an erection? Yes, they can swell momentarily during arousal. The reason I know this is because I have conducted many experiments in the field of breasts. It was my favorite subject in middle school and I was top in my field, tip top. It's a very well rounded field of study. The perks are glorious, I am milking it for all its worth. God I'm despicable. I'm not sure what for though, the subject of the puns or the puns themselves or both. Am I eligible now for a special kind of hell? Would it be named after me? I think I could endure if that were the case.

Hypothetical situation: Two groups of horrible people, passive aggressives and entitled shitbags have congregated in great numbers on opposite sides of a valley who's physical properties ensure that a nuclear explosion could be easily concealed. You have one nuke. What story do you give each camp to make them congele in the center in order to obliterate them both? Do you draw a huge X in the middle of the valley and assure everyone in it that there is gold mere inches from the surface? Do you assemble scarecrows of various celebrities to draw them close for autographs? You don't have the manpower to simply corral them into the killzone. How do you accomplish your pure and holy task?

If god is omnipotent and we are made in his image why do some people need viagra?

I know some women have L.A. faces or Oakland booties but what city would have the best feet? Or the best arms? Dayton forearms and a Reno ribcage. I know a girl with Paris eyes. Actually I've heard shitty things about Paris. Why are there no tall buildings in Paris? Because the ground is easily surrendered. Wonk wonk wonnnk. If any French people are reading, I kid. I understand that the French are one of the most successful militaries the world has ever seen… well, I suppose some French people I wouldn't give a shit about offending. Also I feel like that joke probably exists already or will be stolen without attribution from this very online word depository. C'est la vie. I'm not particularly worried about being plagiarized. I can keep up this quality of work indefinitely. That sentence has just sent several people into deep depressions and for that I am sorry.