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.