I Overcooked The Noodles

I keep stumbling upon sweet, golden gems on the vast mystical expanse of the internet. More specifically, I keep finding these strange, poorly written blogs that all too often feature me as the focal point. Now, it goes without saying that all of these blawgs shine a very negative light on me. As they should. But the stories, or more realistically, the pseudo feelings about me are pretty bizarre. They are sometimes so nonsensical that I question if it is really not about me but about somebody else with the same name as me who looks the same who knows the same people and who lives in my ugly apartment.

I can understand a hatred or rage towards me. That,s all legitimate. I can,t understand all the stuff that I read that are vague memories of things that never happened involving myself and the author. It,s always stuff about us spending a lot of time together and having the greatest time ever. First, I don,t have a good time with anybody. Second, I don,t spend time with anybody. They write about me like I am an actual person that has feelings or considers anybody else’s. It really weirds me out.

Klimek - Movies Is Magic
I mean, I enjoy the attention. I,m starting to get even more full of myself than I already was. I just can,t figure out where these stories are coming from. It,s making me think that I have that rare disease where I make certain people hallucinate when they are around me. I forget what it,s called but I think it can be pretty serious. Jesus had it. Hitler had it. I think I am the new Hitler-Jesus. Thus the prophecy has been fulfilled and it is all thanks to the literary masterpieces floating about the pages of boogle.com like shrimp-sized pieces of diarrhea.

The Prude In The White Shirt

Last night I went to this show but I didn,t go in. I,m poor like that. It was cool watching those goofy bands play with a window in between us so I could really pick out all of the out of tune power chords with perfect clarity. I was feeling real high and mighty. Plus, that room was full of sticky, sleeveless mosh monsters running around in circles.

It was sort of like a rainy day in PE class freshman year when, instead of playing flag football or something, you would run around the interior of the gym. I would only run for a second and then act like my debilitating asthma was keeping me down. It worked every time. That.s another reason why I didn,t want to go inside, too many bad health-related memories.

Best Coast - Something In The Way
The outside wasn,t bad though. I got to stand next to some really great uniformed slutter punks. You know, the kind with really short hair except in the back where they,ve kept their four proud, gnarled goat dreads. They were just pleasant beyond belief. I also got to see a girl that I had some classes with. I never said anything to her before but always internally remarked to myself about how such a sloppy, dark tattoo on such a holocaust-style arm made it look like she had a wasting disease. She might.

She was with a group of girls all wearing black pants and black shirts and piercings and one vegan leather jacket and bad attitudes. They got in a fight with girls that refused to dress like them. I always love being near a four foot eleven inch tall girl wearing one of those awful woven bag hats while she flips people off that have already left and continues to repeat the harshest cuss word she can think of. Dream date material.

Night Coughs

A year ago, I took this class about food and how bad it is for you. It was pretty strange. I guess the stuff taught in the class wasn,t that weird, other stuff was. The class had 35 people in it and I was one of 4 baby boys in the class, the rest were baby girls.

The teacher was this really tiny woman with a giant throat. She seemed like she loved tanning and having her collar bones protrude in an exaggerated way. She probably weighed 88 pounds. And she wore these really big hoop earrings. The perfect woman. I actually kept a log of how many days she wore giant earrings. It was on the first page of my notebook for that class and on top it said Giant Earring Count. I turned it in the last day of class. I got an A on it.

Daughters - Daughters
We had to do a presentation at the end of the semester about some wa-wa baby topic. It was supposed to be a debate about if eating animals is cool or not. I was in a group with 4 baby girls and all of them were great. They put in so much effort and thought into the project that all I had to do was write the entire speech and teach everybody everything about how eating one hundred cows is much nicer than eating a single sunflower seed. But, the strangest part of it all was that after we finished the debate and my throat was sore from being the only one speaking, the next group went and some baby girl that looked and acted like an even more emaciated, addicted Lindsay Lohan finished her speech with the exact same line that I did. Even weirder, she was making eye contact with me the whole time. I think she was trying to make me think that I was her. It sort of worked for a second.

I just heard a whispering woman tell a group of young girls that eating carrots will make them courageous leaders and make them get better grades than if they were to eat candy. Her shoes make a lot of noise when she walks. She just referred to herself as a Sun Person. I think I,m going crazy.

Tanning Salon Hero

I,ve got to start going to bars more often. They,re gross. I went to one last night and within the short amount of time that I was there so many great things happened. I saw people that I went to high school with that I never planned on seeing again. In fact, they were so removed from any component of my life that matters that I forgot they existed. I stumbled trying to figure out their names while they, for some bizarre reason, immediately knew mine. They all seemed swirly and stoned and tall.

I got a good dousing with beer. For some reason, a girl that I supposedly knew at the bar thought that, rather than handing a glass filled so full with cheap Patriotic Pabst Blue Ribbon that the surface tension made it look like an over-inflated red rubber ball from fourth grade, she would toss it backwards to a nonexistent person. I and a few other people got to walk around sticky for the night thanks to her generous showering. But it was a good kind of sticky. It was the kind of sticky that the Southerners felt when they walked away from a hearty battle covered in Yankee blood. Good old Pabst.

Caribou - Swim
There was no where to sit so I stood awkwardly for a while next to some girls with weird tattoos that looked like castles drawn on graph paper and birds. Everybody had tattoos relating to peacocks that night. So many feathers. I finally found a seat on top of a big speaker next to this adorable middle-aged couple that were busy hugging each other and making strange racist/Fleetwood Mac jokes.

I have been eating a steady diet of fifteen-bean soup and undercooked Pizza Hut cheese pizzas for the past four days so let,s just say I was, and still am, seismically active. The speaker I was sitting on quickly converted all potential energy into kinetic energy and shifted my tectonic plates causing violence the likes of which the Haitians and Chileans know all too well. I don,t know why I just used so many earthquake and seismology references. I farted a whole lot and it smelled bad. That weird Fleetwood Mac team kept looking at me every time a delicious tremor caught their attention. Of course all I could do in return was gaze lovingly back at them.

Secret Messages For Her

I have been selling a ton of stuff on Ebay recently. Well, by a ton I mean some, and by stuff I mean records that I don,t care about anymore, and by Ebay I mean Amazon. I listed 130 different CDs, most of them in insanely great condition because when I was a young scrap of meat buying them I would burn them as soon as I got them and never play the originals. What a fool I was before mediafire. Thanks stealing! So far I think I,ve made no money out of this. I just keep packaging them in dirty cardboard and mailing them away like a moron.

Haito & Diringer - Perception
I also sold my friend,s Goog phone on there. We sold it for way more than he got it for so it felt like we were robbing the internet goon that bought it. What heightened this feeling even more was the fact that the hideous nerd that bought it said he didn,t even get it. He filed a complaint and refund and everything. It sucked for a minute when we thought that we were going to get swindled by this goat-toothed guy without a driver,s licence. But, as it turned out, his inability to communicate even the simplest ideas with any sort of resemblance to the English language worked in our favor. His staggeringly minimal and ambiguous misspelled emails sort of made him look like he was not of upright character. His flaky-skinned ass must have been mighty chapped when he found out that he got denied and I was holding his big fat hundreds in my hand as I walked to my local human trafficker to pick up a fresh young one. Bummer for him.

Since I found out the good news I,ve been sending him politely worded emails asking him how the phone is working for him and how he likes the features. No response yet. Hopefully the only response I will ever get from him will be when I just recognize his name on the news one night when I see that he has cleverly hopped off of overpass into traffic. It,s just a phone dude, calm down.