Nothing But Nonsense

Well lock me up for a nonviolent drug offense and watch my life welter away, how the hell are ya!? ABSOLUTELY SPLENDID YOUNG LAD! Sweet mother of an Arabian grape farmer I have a lot of energy right now. Tickle me silly, Billy. Slap my ass with a chastity belt you naughty sack of skin.

I have a feeling this post is going to be sheer lunacy. It’s fine. Everything is fine. New year new me am I right HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA. This is why I’ll never try cocaine. I just have to accidentally take a nap and I’m gooched out of my mind as it is.

I bought a bean bag chair. And I gotta be honest it’s kind of a vortex. On multiple occasions I have planned to sit on said bean bag chair for ten minutes to regenerate my supplies and woken up an hour later wondering what just happened. I don’t even think it’s made of beans. What if it’s made of tacos? Taco chair. Choco chair. Choco taco whole lotta block of Lego chair.

Stick me in the washer and put me on spin cycle, I’m ready to get frisky. Let’s ban fracking and legalize cracking our backs on slabs of asphalt. I told you this was going to be nothing but lunacy. This is my therapy. Stringing together nonsensical sentences that are meant to bend your fender all the way to Leander.

Do they make sense? No. Do they sound cool? Yes. Yes they do. Mexican Chex Mix and lexicon pick-up-sticks. What? What what whaaaaat!? Welcome to the Farrah Fawcett Fungal Academy for Fat Flamingos, how can we help you today? Um yeah I’d like to order a whore burger with a side of guy in my eyes please. YOU’RE AT THE WRONG PLACE THIS ISN’T IN N’ OUT OF HER VAGINA.

Could you imagine? If there was a naughty hamburger restaurant called In n’ Out of Her Vagina. I mean… I would go. I guess it depends on whose vagina we’re talking about. “Her” is a very vague term. You know what else is a vague term? The. The WHAT? What are you EVEN TALKING ABOUT, DUDE!?

I don’t know why I share these types of posts on the internet. These should just be for me but I just feel… I just feel if I speak out about these issues, man… maybe it will resonate with someone.

You know what’s funny? How mad people get on the internet over innocuous things. I don’t think it’s them even getting mad at the thing they just saw or read, I think they’re already mad and they just want to express their anger but they don’t know how to do it properly.

I used to worry about making people upset. I was even afraid to do comedy because I didn’t want to offend anyone or upset them in any way. Imagine that? Imagine a time… when seagulls ran the world.

It’s really hard for me to write coherently about anything even moderately serious right now. I was thinking earlier about how different I was in my late teens and early twenties and how I was going to write about how I’ve gone from never wanting to upset people to finding it kind of hilarious when people get upset at silly things, but maybe it’s just a nonsensical night.

I don’t know. I don’t try to ruffle anyone’s feathers but when people get upset at something that’s clearly supposed to be humorous it does make me want to double down. Too many captains of the no-fun zone out here in these parts.

Speaking of parts, how about the HOG on that guy!? Wow!

My parents read this. And their friends. The friends of my parents read this and I still choose to publish it. It’s so hard to write without thinking about your audience. I’ve gotten pretty good at it, but it still creeps in the back of my mind sometimes. Like okay maybe I shouldn’t write that.

I don’t think that’s a bad thing. I think it’s good to write uninhibited and then you can always go back and edit. One of my favorite books is the Four Agreements and one of those agreements is to be impeccable with your word. And as much as I try to adhere to that, there are times when I like to be completely careless with my words and just let that puppy fly.

It’s my way of letting go. Words are my way through a lot of things. Some people play badminton, some people suck cock, some people have a glass of wine. We all have our unique little therapies. Words are my drug of choice. Flamboyant flatulence flickering in the flatlands.

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