Fuck It

I know I said I wouldn't post here anymore, I'm a liar. I don't expect to ever be able to regain your trust, but.....I want to try to make this work. I know you feel something for me, I feel the same thing for you. Take your pants off.

Ready Or Not

I've been staying up until at least 4 AM every night since I have no job (yeah, I'm a bum.) and have been out of school for at least a couple of weeks now, with a couple more left before it starts again. I'm not sure it that's insomnia but it's definitely not sleeping. I am one of the most sleep deprived people in the world that wakes up at noon every day.

Another thing keeping me up at night is Stephen King's On Writing. Thanks to him I've never felt as prepared, equipped, and enthusiastic about my writing. I always needed a little bit of guidance but didn't really have anyone to look to. Thanks to some of King's "telepathy" I feel quite optimistic about writing. I recommend it to any aspiring writers, those who write fiction especially. One thing thing often repeated in that book (And I'm sure any book about writing.) is that the only way to improve, the only way to get better, is to do it. A lot. It's the same with stand up comedy. You can talk about, read about it, watch it, but if you haven't done it, you're still at square one essentially. So all you struggling writers out there, just keep at it. And have fun.

In other news, I don't have a single class before noon this upcoming semester. Thank God for online classes. So maybe (Just maybe.) I'll be better about updating this thing. Somebody's got to waste space on this thing called the internet. Why not me?

Until next time my dear vacuums.

Disteaser

It's been a while, I'm sure all three of you missed me. How long has it been? A month since my last post. I still work harder than Congress. That's really saying something. That's like saying, "Hey, I have fewer STDs than most porn stars!" Which, ladies, is true for me, by the way. Unfortunately, I have the same amount of self respect. You know that old saying, "Nothing good happens after midnight,"? This is proof of that. Why am I drinking V8 Splash and Coca-Cola at the same time?

The main reason I am making this post is to let the voices in my head know that I will try to make more posts in this blog. So, this is kind of like a teaser. Only to be a teaser their should really be some sort of pay off in the end. That's not going to happen here. This is more like foreplay leading to a discussion about economics. Unless you're into that kind of thing. I'm not judging.

I better stop now, before this turns into something really weird.

The Night After Halloween

I woke up this morning. Orange juice and Kit Kats, The Breakfast of Champions. You know, I think my gorilla mask went over well around the neighborhood. I hope no one took it as a racial thing.

My parents turned their lights off, closed the curtains, and hid from trick or treaters again this year. I guess when it comes to trick or treat, my parents kind of made the choice for those kids in advance. They stopped giving out candy a long time ago. Sometime in between the beginning of the Iraq war and when people started to realize maybe we shouldn't have started the Iraq war. Good thing Mississippi is the fattest state in the country, those kids have got fat stored up, so they won't miss any of my parents' candy. Mississippi is also a leader in teen pregnancy. That's not really related to Halloween, I just like dropping that into conversations. You're welcome Mississippi *pervy wink*.

I didn't really watch any scary movies this Halloween, unless the Joy Behar Show counts.

Due to the recession I was only able to sacrifice two lambs this year. Thanks a lot Obama!

I bet I know what costume Christine O'Donnell did not wear this year.

That it is all for now. Goodnight.

Christine O'Donnell - Which

So, apparently Christine O'Donnell (Delaware senate candidate) is me, er, you, or all of us? It seems Ms. O'Donnell has moved on from witchcraft to the ways of the Jedi. ("I am not the witch you're looking for.")

It's true we do have witchcraft in common (I learned it from Harry Potter books.) but she's me? If she's me does that make me her? And if so, why I am I so crazy?

This is the most confusing political campaign from a candidate since Taft gave out free mustache rides during his run for president. What made that confusing? He made everyone do Sudoku while they rode.

In a paper during the primary she said she "heard the audible voice of God." Wow, that must be driving her crazy. We all know how God can be a little long winded sometimes (see The Old and New Testaments.) I can't imagine what that's like. I mean I'm going crazy myself, and that's just because every time I turn on my TV it seems I hear the audible voice of Christine O'Donnell.

But best of luck to her, this is after all the first time I've remembered Delaware was a state in about 7 seven years. So she accomplished that.

Mental Roadblock

Here's the really great thing about being a writer (of comedy, stories, poetry, whatever) when you have a day off or in my case a whole weekend to, you know, write, it can be really exciting. The only thing is though, your brain doesn't always take correct instruction. I have a perfect opportunity to create a substantial amount of work but instead my brain is saying, "Ah, forget all of that creative writing stuff, look an Entourage marathon!"

I just spent an entire day thinking about how I should really write something. Now there's how you make a career for yourself, thinking about working!

What's worse is, anytime I actually do seem to have some inspiration strong enough to put pen to paper (or in most cases, fingers to keyboard) It's only to write about how I can't write anything. Which is real, but feels a lot like pandering to a specific audience. Namely other writers, who have of course at one point or another experienced the beast known as writer's block.

So, although by posting this I've done nothing to substantially improve my situation, I have vented my frustrations as any 21st century man born into a reasonably stable financial situation would, by blogging. Oh, how I loathe my trendiness. If I were writing this in a coffee shop I'd probably stab myself in the eye with that little plastic stirrer they give you with coffee.

Why is inspiration always hiding in a house of mirrors? Difficult to find and easy to lose.

Anyway, enough of this pity party, I'll get the mental engines running soon...hopefully. It's a good thing I like Ramen noodles and soup.
Signing off. Best of writing, friends.

I Want You To Want Me

I have a need to be liked. Pretty much all of the time. I want to be liked in my career, my social life, and especially on twitter. But to an extent who doesn't? Everyone wants to be liked, or at least they want to be liked a little. Kurt Cobain probably wanted to be liked, but then too many people liked him. He was an inspiration though and people still like his music.

Teenage girls REALLY want to be liked, so much so, that they even say the word "like" frequently to put the idea of liking them in your head, thus making you hate them.

One time when I said "Turn off the light" my friend thought I said "Turn off the like." He's like stupid.

To "Like" something on facebook means to show your affection for a person, place, or thing on your page. Which is great because I can see how many of my friends "like" the band Nickelback and swiftly not be friends with them anymore.

Some people find the word "Like" annoying and cringe a little on the inside when someone is using the word "Like" too much. I am one of those people, that's why I don't like myself right now.

You might be wondering by this point, if you're still reading, what is the reason for this post? I don't know. Maybe it was all the times I've heard of parents who found their kids smoking and then they made them smoke the whole pack at once so they wouldn't want to do it again.

So, like, smoke the whole pack bitch and stop saying like so much!