i was about to suggest leaving work, but then i saw ben blogging, and i though that i might as well. i haven’t really thought anything through to write a out, not like i think i ever do….
its friday and its beautiful, during school i kinda looked forward tot he weekends, but now that i’m working, i REALLY look forward to them. even if most of the time all i do is end up sitting on my ass, but there’s nothing wrong with that. actually this weekend’s gonna be kinda busy with mariner games and jakub’s party. so i’m probably gonna be even more tired for work next week, but it will be rad.
hmmm, its funny, i don’t feel like i have anything insightful to say right now, normally i have something to talk about, but i’m just in one of those moods where i don’t want to think. it might be the work atmosphere, but i really haven’t been concerning myself with anything more than the next 5 minutes ahead of me. in the next 5 minutes, i’m guessing i’m gonna be out the door and on my way to safeway to buy wine.
buy wine.
drink wine.
slurp it down.
mm mm good.
puke.
is that the way its supposed to go? i remember vaugly going to blanchard one night after talking to the box of franzia more than a few times, and the drive made me sick. and i was ridiculed by adam and jakub, as i rightly deserved. wine, just drink it.
cripes! my head! it can’t decide which way it wants to go. too much bodily energy to have my mind focus on anything.
dumbass me
hurts his knee
jumped like a flea
landed stupidly
writhing on the ground in agony
actually it wasn’t that bad, i mean i could walk about a minute afterwards, and i didn’t even do antyhing that stupid. i’m sick of this knee. i’ve been slaving over it for the past 3 months now with physical therapy and it still as unstable as ever. i think its about time my body went on strike from my knee. dammit knee! if i’m gonna treat you so good, you better get better! but nooooooo, you don’t want to get any better so now its time for correctional surgery. time for the knife, knee! see how you like being cut and drilled and reattached, it’s your own damn fault!
tenses are funny, i could switch my tense mid-sentance and suddenly i’m there, beliving in jesus the man who saved us all from the rapture of evil dogs such as myself who keep trying to climb houses up their northside when obviously its the southside is the one to traverse. but when trying this you have to make sure to keep your pimp hand strong, lest ye fall to certain enlightenment. at which point you can sit around, point at all the funny elves and say “weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee”. this makes the elves mad though so they widen their eyes and run in circles screaming about the injustice of the poor baby calfs in new zealand. what calfs they speak of, we shall never know, but it gets you thinking about your full frontal assault of needles on the roof of a speeding train, which is just bad in general, so you push it out of your head. but it falls tot he ground and shatters into a million pieces leaving you with a million splinters in your pinky toe. the pain is so unbearable and pleasant that you run around screaming at the top of your lungs with joy. this calls the god of hunting though, cause obviously only hunters can exact that same scream of shameful pain and shameful joy. he’ll ask “what seems to be the kerdunkle?” to which you reply “my gopher left me!” and he replies “it was because you were insensitive and analized things too much, and besides, you’re a total jackoff” to which you reply “oh, i always thought of myself as more of a gomer, as opposed to a jack off”
GOOD GOD MAN, GET YOUR PRIORITIES STRAIGHT!
keep them in line, or they take over your brain stem, which could be a good or bad thing depending on what type of star you look at first when you look up at the sky at noon. most people only see the sun, but they realize that after they see the sun, they can close their eyes and see a bunch of stars. depending on which of those stars you see first, will determine your course in life. its a rip rolling, out of control roller coaster ride and the brakeman decieded that he’d rather go shoot pool with his dogs than sit around pulling a brake lever all day. and i don’t blame him, he has his priorities straight. i mean, dogs that can play pool? i’m so there with a bag of cherries, cause pool playing dogs like cherries. what’s that? you don’t like cherries? WELL TOO BAD! its not your choice to let the dogs know if they like cherries or not, its their own stupid choice. they mostly end up spitting the pits back at you too and bark delightedly, with glee as well. so maybe i won’t do that. maybe i’ll have a nice frosty glass of beer instead, but to procure this beer takes alot of work like the removing of hands from plastic and the movement of feet upon woven cotton and various plastic and stone, and a million other carbon based walking surfaces that this world produces.
goddamn, i could go on like this for awhile, i should stop though, cause really i want to get home from work….
or do i?