6.09.2012

The indefinite dryer cycle.

When I started writing this post, it was just about how lazy i was to do laundry.
I went into detail about separating colors and how waiting for the dryer to....dry... was the worst thing in the world.  Then i deleted that because i felt my brain cells crying.

So anyway,

I've had so much going on in my brain recently that my writing skill has dropped to...
well bellow average.  Being in Tokyo has made me forget how to spell English words.
My friend cracks a joke at me saying "aren't you a writing major?"
and i like to blame that i'm a few drinks in.
But to be honest, i cannot write for the life of me.
And yet i spend thousands of dollars over the past 3 years to pursue a writing major in college.
I know what grammar is...it is what you put on s'mores.

And spelling is just telling.
You are a little rat, a sneak, a snitch, and a smart ass if you correct my spelling.
That's write.

Just like the kids who thought they have gained a higher intellect or sense of enlightenment when they learned how to multiply numbers and count pass a 100.

People will think they are a freaking superhero because of anything.  Then they will rub it in your face because you cannot do the same.  Well excuse me douchebag, but i like to do things i want to do.  For example.

"Yea man, i can pick up this piece of steel with these numbers on it.  It's badass, im so much more badass than you, even my own ass says im more badass.  What can you do punkass?"

well....i can...smoke a cigarette faster than a T-rex because their hands cannot reach their mouths therefore they will be never be able to smoke a cigarette --Unless they  travel to the future where elongated cigarette holders ran rampant with the flappers and the french.

now in real time my answer would be more like.  yes, i cannot. because my arms would probably break off and i don't need this skill unless i'm fighting a dump truck.

Actually, i'm not smart enough to pull off something quick and witty.  So i write these phrases down on tiny strips of paper and catalog them by how aesthetically pleasing the paper is to my caveman brain after i rip it out of my notebook, which i should be using for notes, but instead i write depressing lyrics about dying and losing the ever bearing friendship with gravity so you just float into outer space and turn to a freeze pop.

Tonight feels late, although it is only 12:30 i think the sushi i had earlier today may be the cause.

hmmm.

ill think about it.
goodnight.


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