heres the deal, heres how i feel generally about things.... generally.

what is it about a bean that makes you not even want to be around yourself? where, in that tiny ass granule, is the thing that, when you eat it, your body goes "well apparently i am supposed to try breathing out my ass now, but only in one direction" i like how some people have stepped it up a bit and have decided to light it on fire. which is a really excellent way to wreck pants in a way thats really hard to make up a reason for thats not "i farted and lit my ass on fire in the process" were you.... what were you.... why were you..... did a candle sneak up on you at the wrong time man? "no dude, i was holding an open flame about an inch from my genitals in hopes to blow fire out of my own body"

and heres the thing, it was to impress group full of people at a party. dude your so awesome


alot of times i will be sitting by myself in the library and i realize that if i were blind, the library would be just about the most terrifying place on earth. Theres no sounds at all. at any time there could be someone right next to you and you wouldnt even know it. and i assume that since i have never seen the brail section of raynor its in memorial, which means that in order to just get to the right building you have to navigate a 1 mile obsticle course of nothingness including the bridge, where a sensory overload occurs and you decide you didnt want to read anything that bad anyhow.


every morning on the pilgramage to marquette university engineering i think about how awesome it would be if the sidewalks were frictionless, meaning all you would have to do is push off of something once and then just slide at that speed until you wanted to get off. The things you could get done while standing and sliding to class in the morning! eat your plate of eggs! moon walk! sleep? how awesome would it be if you fell asleep and then woke up seconds before you slid right into lake michigan? or if your buddy drank too much you could litterally kick them up the street in the direction of their house and hope they knew enough to stop before they slid into the ghetto.... what a great image


society, generally, demands a certian level of tolerance of extreem situations that seemingly could be fake but you have to treat them with respect and as if it really is happening. Like say for example you go into a starbucks and attempt to communicate with the cashier using only combinations of eye blinking. i garuntee they will attempt to help you out and see if they try to keep talking to you verbally, or if they are really on their game, see if they blink back. theres alot of situations that are seemingly so run-of-the-mill but every once in a while someone comes along, buys a coffee, and immediatly pours it down their pants upon recieving it, and walks out calm-ly. or buys a cake and a coffee dumps the coffee out, and puts the cake in the cup and leaves. you will wonder all day why they needed the cake in the cup so badly. what if that was just something you needed to do to start your day? you begin to realize just how things that can be normal to someone can be crazy elsewhere, and you are right on that boarder all the time, inches from putting that cake in the cup in such a way you can carry on that day. I wish taht was all i had to do to feel sound in the morning.


the fact that original sin included the need for clothes fascinates me. its the addition of material to life! its the addition of self consciencousness! its the one thing that is standing in the way of us and our own selves and the real people around us, and if we didnt have that to seek and learn, there really wouldnt be much else to do. maybe frictionless sidewalks.


ive been doing alot of thinking about the limits of humanity and the realization of pain and its impact on us generally. the moment of zen type thing where you honestly wonder if anything is limiting you, which you quickly recant on seconds after jumping off the bridge with the inclination that you are invincible. the one thing i do know about pain is the second you show it is the second you have succumed to it, which isnt always such a bad thing.


laying in your bed in the dark with a blank cursor in front of you listening to your "ray lamontagne" pandora channel makes you start to think about things like this for example: for me at least, i feel that alot of time and desire in life is to find someone that sees you deeply inside to who you are, and realizes all the greatnesses that you have, and your strengths and your thoughts and your dreams, and seems to understand you based on all these things. and thats a pretty selfish realization, but dont worry, i am a firm believer in alittle selfish can go a long way in life, not too much, but you cant hate yourself, what a terrible way to live! in order to have someone who can do that for me, there has to be someone out there that has been able to get over their own desires for someone to discover their greatness, and search for yours. therefore there has to be people in the world that are searching to discover other people, and the only way for there to be people like that is to be one myself. and then the song "laid" comes on by james and everything goes out the window as you are now things about beds on fire with passion and love, and essentially, bean-eating friends with lighters.


but in all my writing i begin to realize that there are two ways about looking at a written journal, essentailly, or anything that is written. a good start is to realize that often, for me, writing is a process of figuring things out, and maybe you go back and erase the beginning and just leave the good stuff or meaningfull jargon, but then theres no backround and no way to see the way someone gets to "it was the best of times, it was the worst of times" i mean just leaving some statement like that has its ups and downs, but something made you write that, and what i am really interested in is why you did. well i write the things that i do not as fact but more as a stream of thought i was having, and thats all i really can do, right? unedited thoughts are really all i would ever want to ask of anyone.


ps, trocadero got a billboard, this could be awesome, i swear if im on it we are all getting in a car and going out to see it. get pumped.

if i had a daily show of my own, i would part my hair, and every day i would alternate which side the part was on.

I am sitting in my living room not really looking at the tv, but i can hear it, and i am beginning to realize that with the quick change of one word you can completly change the entire point of a sentence. the importance of the direct object of the sentence, and for those of you who were chasing girls around the playground, eventually catching them, and having your first of many experiances of awkward "well what the crap do i do now" problems; dont worry, i was busy sitting in the front row and telling my mom after school how excited i was i could divide any number by one, go ahead, give me a number, i will divide it by one. bam, its the same number, im awesome. I have the definition of the direct object. its the direct object, its directally the object of the sentence, look, its right there. its all over the place up in here. what object? DIRECT! Where you are to direct the object i dont know, i was chasing the girls.

Back to the uninteresting thing i realized while listening to the tv (!) (that means EXCLAIMATION) (which is reffereing to the implied zinger on tv having not one, but many uninteresting things on it) (why am i even writing this). You can significantly alter the meaning of the sentence by changing one word, and depending on how much in the gutter you are, you could change about anything to be a suprisingly sexual and innappropriate thing to say on tv.

screw this, lets talk about something else. "lets" is used loosely,,, you dont have much of a choice. TURTLENECKS! how in gods name (which is God, actually) did they work their way under our suit coats in an acceptable manner? cop-out.

Now, on the other side of things, if you mute your tv, check out the hand motions. dont stop there, today i muted my teacher and just paid attention to his hand motions, and i now understand the mechanics of measurement systems. you have to pay attention to the tiny variations of the same damn hand motions, because while it looks like he is just holding a bowl and throwing the contents of it all over the front row of people, he is truely making a different motion for every word. this gives way to a great analogy for you to use next time you are in a situation requiring you to liken something to a level of awkwardness; "thats about as awkward as hands having nothing to do when you talk"

i am not gonna lie, i wouldnt post this if i knew i wasnt the only one who was going to read it

have a nice tuesday..

bowls are super

i am not sure why we insist on calling these huge deals "bowls" in sports, when in really anything else, a bowl is never much more than somewhat interesting, dirty, hard to stack high, generally underrated, 100% necessary for cereal to even exist.  Cereal does not give bowls enough credit, a bowl is really the workhorse that makes your mornings possible, quick, and tasty.  the next time your cereal isnt really cutting it for you, just think about how the bowl feels, keeping the dissapointing and soggy "chips-n-milk" in one manageable peice.  even in sports, bowling is pretty much the most boring sport there is next to stare contests (which, depending on leinency on rules against physical attacks, can be quite amusing).  we should call it like the superbasejumping or the superfootballgame or just superawesome.  not "superScrapeThatDamnSpoonOnMyFaceAgain ISwearToGod EveryMorningMan?Seriously,EatAPancake"

there are cooler kitchen appliances, at least we could go with something like the superGinsuKnife or the superfork or the superknife.  i agree, i am glad they vetoed the supersaladbowl and the superplate or the superbrokenleg

back when they named them bowl games, how did that sound good? that is like going with can games or cup games.  dish games.   They dont even play for a peice of kitchenware like they do in tennis and golf.  I just realized that even in tennis they have the davis cup.  i dont know how the kitchen worked its way into our greatest achievments.  is there anything in the kitchen that is called a nobel? or are jock heads unable to even think of one word that originated with the event in referance, instead someone looked up from their chicken noodle and said "we will call it the superbowl" and then went over and did 50 pushups in celebration. 

i guess they did try to spice the bowl up with words like "super" and "fiesta" and "orange"... which at first you may not think is on the same level as the first two, but it is the only word in the english language that has no rhyme partner, which is damn awesome, so awesome, it may be on the level of the word "bowl" ...apparently

although using a buzz-kill word like bowl i guess helps with not building the event up too much, i mean with the half time shows and all being awesome, which they actually are when paul mccartney shows up and plays hey jude and the crowd all has signs and they flip them and i litterally start singing from the couch and flipping my own signs over and crying while sreaming "i can die in peace, i can die in peace, this bowl is truely a super one"

whos cooler? superbowl or superman? theres an essay here, but i am zoning out too much to write it or even care.

thats about all i have to say about the word bowl. enjoy your cereal tomorrow morning.