BBB

12:42, afternoon

Boring Bit of Babble

Write, for an hour.  Our H.  ower.   Pain.  paint.  Aint.   Feint.  Faint.  Feign.  Fane?  A temple or shrine!  I love my computer.   Plus, music in the background.  Lovely day, breeze, sun.  Windows open.   Happy Rover, just wallked/pooped.   I have lots of news to read, and 2 books, for 2 days.  This is kind of a journal entry, not really a blog post, is it?   I really REALLY prefer real coke to diet.  But I’m still drinking the stuff.   What am I gonna have for dinner?  Thought about Luke’s Grill.  Kinda pricey.  I can afford it.  But I’m still a cheap miserly skinflint!  I need to poop.  brb.  Maybe I should walk Rover, again.   I cut it short, just a short while ago.  Princeton is pretty trippy, though, and it’s Thursday.   Good times.  It’s 1:01.  20 minutes in.  40 to go.  Bet I’ll come up with something interesting, blogworthy, creative.   Hmm, Sam plays guitar and paints.  Julie volunteers with animals.  Miette and Julie both go to Jewish school.  Miette is learning karate?, I think.   I’m just babbling.  What’s interesting?  

    Sex!  Then again, sex can be boring.  Which is really sad.   I’ll save the topic for when I’m in the mood, lol.  Moo!  The modern cow.   So sexy, lol.  Burgers and hot dogs, in buns.   Geezus. This music sucks.  But it’s interesting sucky.   I’ll keep it on, for now.  Hyperactive drum machine, I think.   A bit trippy.  I want to see Sam’s finished painting.  Maybe he’ll send me a pic.  I have to remember to ask.  T Rex napkin holder.  Vicious beast.  Cruel creature.  Death machine.  Evil monster.  Rotten revenant.  Anyway.

     33 minutes to go.  Geez.  What it’s like to be schizophrenic.  You don’t even want to think about it, because usually symptoms happen, when it’s on your mind.   Self-torture.  Stay distracted, keep the music on, keep writing, prevent the mind from turning in on itself.  Sometimes I meditate, and the silence can be nice too, just thinking about breath or whatnot.  I’ll do 15 minutes of meditation, after my hour of writing.  The matrix.   That’s where it’s at.

    Switched from wprb to kzsu.  Princeton to Stanford.  I want to be part of a college community.   Smart minds, prevalent curiosity, beauty and sex.  I don’t want to babble to myself, for the rest of my life (50 years?).  I want a loving, adoring woman by my side.  Well, that’ interesting, if I commit to it.  I DO like myself, and keep good company between me, myself, and I.  Did Jesus parse his mind into father, son, and holy spirit?   Would Jesus even recognize that shit?  I don’t care.  An extension of the Father.   I guess he thought he was the Son of….  man, mary, jesse tree?  I don’t care about that, either.   I know for a fact he was just another human.   So that’s that.  In the mean time, until he returns.   As if only He is the source of kindness and virtue.   What a load, if you ask me.   Mean time and kind time.  Good x.

     22 minutes left.  I’m a little hungry.  I’ll have some hummus on crackers.  No, I already finished that.  A thing of string (cheese).  Cheese for my chi.  Om.  Cheetos, chicharrones, and chimichangas.  1:25.   I’m about ready to quit this.   I’m not feeling it.  Surfing kcpr, kzsu, wprb, and it’s all beautiful.  Harrowing detail about heroin.  You have enough time.  You pause for effect.   Paws.   Thyme.   Hair.   Rowing, crew.  Motley Crue.  TTM.   talking to myself.  Enough.  

3:45p

A sequence.  All the times are good, though.  Analog, digital.   Multiplication and thyme and Thai, m.   Thai IS yummy.  Music, eye scum.  Si, cum.  Comme ci, comme ca.   I don’t speak French, though.  I can French kiss, though.  Frenchie bulldogs and french’s mustard and French fries and the French wench.  Rhymes with a mensch on a bench.  The eyes have it.  Benjamin and Benji on a bench.   Ch, ch, ch, chia.  Stream of consciousness, drip drip.  What’s lurking in there?  

    A for army.  B for battalion, bombs.  C for command and control.  D for death.  E for Entagon.   F for fuct.   G for general.  H for Hell.  I for intel.  J for join.  K for kill. L for by Lucifer’s light.  M for military.  N for nukes.  O for offense.  P for punch.  Q for Quiet.  R for righteousness.   S for in the Shit.   T for tank.  U for U-boat.   V for victims of vicious violence.  W for war.  X for Xenu.  Y for yellow yankee.   Z for Zero hour.   

     Let’s try it again:  A for amor.  B for beauty.  C for charity.  D for dogs.  E for ecstasy.  F for fun.  G for gratitude.  H for Heaven.  I for intelligence.  J for joy.  K for kooky.  L for love.  M for mastery.  N for Nature.  O for orgasm.   P for purity.  Q for question quests.  R for reality.   S for Super, Supreme, Sexy.   T for teachings.  U for smile, ultra.   V for vim and vigor.  W for wealth.  X for x-men.  Y for Yale.  Z for zaftig.  

     Arthur Pendragon at the pentagon.   Teaching the e-ching.   Well without wealth.  Xtra, xtra!  X-men controlled by Xavier!  I dig dogs, dag.   A degree of Duggan’s.   New clear, new Klee Ur.   Viktor Kee.  Excellence, ex-ellen-ts.   Well, for a spell, fellow hellion.

Hello.  How are you?  H-ow r u?  Hannibal in pain, you are?

Hi.  High.   Up on Everest.  On drugs.  Exalted, on high.  H-i?  Hannibal eye?

How art thou.  hat.  Art and Arthur. Hatred and red hats.  Code?  Gr.

ahrwf, anger hatred rage wrath fury. spite, malice, and revenge.  ire.

Ireland and Haiti, etymology unrelated to pique.   Piqued on the peak.

Madagascar and Central African Republic, both unrelated to autos

Itself, unrelated to Otto or the Ottomans or ought to O (e.g. offense, orgasm)

Ought to zero.  Naught OH, Ohio, omg, oh my god, God, gawd, godd

A pianist using his penis, a musician physician, a sound mind

Todd the God, goading God, cock around the clock, messy pussy

Jesse es he?   Getting stress about yes.  Bless Jess and his press.

Hip hop hooray.   Bunny rabbi.   Silly rabbit, tricks are for kids?

Kids prostituting themselves, sick sick sick.