Yet I Always Fail to Notice

I had to fucking login to the dashboard. I guess the f-bomb was unnecessary as it wasn't that much of a inconvenience. Possibly had something to do with the fact that I finally took the plunge into Firefox today. Wow, the shit was I doing using other browsers. It's as insane as today when I saw Johnny Damon basically naked on my television. I'll break it down for you. It was like "Hi, I'm Johnny Damon in my underwear." I was like, "What." And it's like, "buy Puma pants." And then I said, "How about no." That's pretty much how it went down. And then 3 minutes later some other guy was naked on my television. It went something like this. "I'm mostly naked skateboarder guy." Followed by me once again, "What." And then, "Buy a Puma jacket." To which I responded, "No." Apparently the Star Wars program I was currently watching had a high demographic of gay soccer players. Why was I watching VH1 anyways. What a shit television station. Which reminds me, I should pay the cable bill before they shut it off... Again. What a bunch of dicklickers. You don't pay for like 20 days or so and they shut off your cable. Assholes. My room smells like asshole. Damn. I'm one dirty motherfucker. There's clothes and shit everywhere. I really need to get packing in the near future. I've got to bounce up out of this piece in about a week. Ever write a sentence and then look back and not understand why you did. Happened to me. It could happen to you. The crap monkey is staring at me on my desk. It's not crap in the fecal meaning of the word, but more in the dice gambling game meaning. It's a monkey with a cup in it's hand. I'm told (by the intricate directions hanging from the monkeys neck) that if I pull back it's hand, it will in fact shoot crap. Sometimes it scares me. When the blue LED's on my computer hit it just right, it's watching me. If it ever tried to kill me though, I'd be in trouble. The first place you would think to hide is under the bed. But little do you know it's dark under there. There's probably monsters under there to. But then you'd have to weigh the pro's and con's of fighting either a demon monkey or monsters unknown under my queen sized Goliath bed. Seriously, it's huge. There could be mutant cockroaches under there or something and I'd probably never know. On second thought, I don't want to know what's under there. There might be more clothes. Damn, I'm parched like Jesus in the Mojave eating microwave popcorn. The delete key on my keyboard is stuck like a mother. No you sicko. It's from applejuice. Sometimes when I use it it deletes far more than I would like it to. I proceed to call it names and cry for a while. Then I pull myself together and start typing again. My old cell phone is under the control of Satan. Funny story behind that. I was sleeping the other day. I do that a lot. And in the dream I was having, my cell phone was making the noise like someone was plugging it in and taking it out of the charger. Now, I fucking despise that noise. And I was screaming at the people in my dream. "STOP FUCKING WITH MY FUCKING CELL PHONE YOU ASSHATS." And I think I got rather cross with quite a few of them. And then I woke up. And my old phone had randomly turned itself back on, and to boot, couldn't decide whether it was in a charger or not. I promptly got up, shut it off, and went to take a leak. Pretty anti-climatic story I suppose. But it was strange. Speaking of strange, my dreams lately have been quite strange. I'll tell you the one I had last night, or at least, what I remember of it. I was in a grocery store, and there were the most amazing value packs of cereals I had ever seen. For some reason, they each corresponded to different ages. And the higher the age, the better combination there was. I don't remember the exact cereals, but it's like one of those packages you get at Sam's Club that has a bunch of different cereals in it. And there was one that said '89 or something on it. And I'll said to the guy at the counter, "I'll take the '89 please." And he says, "ahh yes, good choice sir, fine year." and I'm like, "It's cereal, what the hell is wrong with you." And they sold guns in the grocery store too. But the displays were all messed up. Like someone had shoved all the guns butt first into the plaster wall, and only the muzzles were sticking out. And you had to pull the gun out of the broken plaster to look at them. After a while of shopping I took my new package of awesome cereal out to the beach that was conveniently right outside the grocery store. There I went surfing. Now, I've never surfed a single day in my life. And this was apparent as I lost my surfboard shortly after getting far out into the ocean. Some wave threw me up really high in the air. And I landed far away out in the middle of the ocean. And I was by myself. I'm not really sure what exactly happened after that but I woke up. And I was EVER SO FUCKING DISAPPOINTED that I had no cereal. I was craving it so hard. But the disappointment was short lived, and I got up and took a leak. So, my dreams are very strange. I remember bits and pieces of what happened before the grocery store in that dream. But not enough to place together in a coherent story. Ahh. Water. Tasty water. In my tasty cup. Well, it's not a cup, but a Nalgene bottle. A bottle I swore I'd never get because they're so fucking trendy. But whatever. It holds a generous amount of water and doesn't break when I drop it. Plus it has a really cool Rockstar Games sticker on it. That sticker is the SSSSSHIT. There are two songs left in my playlist, so I have 8 minutes left to wrap this up. Yeah, like that shit will actually happen. It's 2:30AM and I'm on absolute cranial autopilot. Typing shit as it funnels out of my head. The top to my Nalgene bottle is blue. I just figured I'd tell you that. Maybe you wanted to know that. Maybe you're still curious as to why Charles Barkley was in all those deodorant commercials that I described so long ago. It's hard to say really. Celebrities seem to be doing all kinds of strange commercials lately. It's come to my attention that because the semester is over and everyone is going home, hardly anyone reads this anymore. Well, as a famous internet writer once said, "You're not doing me a favor by reading this, I'm doing you a favor by writing it."

Well, if you read all that. Sorry.

Here's to another night of fucked up dreams.

Cheers.