i'm only typing something here because i would feel awkward leaving it blank

bare stage, apart from microphone, slowly revealed in spotlight. A blind man struggles through the curtains. He crosses the stage with a humorous mixture of hesitance and resolve. He runs into the microphone. The impact upsets him, but the moment he realizes what it is, he is beside himself with joy, followed shortly by anxiety. He slowly conjures the will to speak something that has been bearing on him for a long time.


BLIND MAN. The benefit of true modesty is that the only way to accomplish anything worthwhile long term is to always expect more from yourself. That way everything you do will always be the best it can be. Of course if you want to be happy, you might want to choose another quality quality. Which is why everything I say is brilliant. (he laughs)

Do you follow?

The only way to sustain true modesty meanwhile possessing some level of self-efficacy, therefore mental health, is to be modest at extraverse and proud at introverse. Also, inventing phrases helps. (he laughs)

Polite society becomes inherently dishonest. Honesty being another quality quality, which one is more desired? Modesty or honesty? Would you rather have everyone's head up their asses, or everyone spouting bullshit?

I suppose either way it amounts to a great deal of hot, smelly air. (he laughs)

Life is really full of these little contradictions. It's maddening.

i really don't care how much a cliche, these little town blues are melting away

I really don't think it's hit me yet.

This city has been built up by the people who share my dreams for as long as I have had the blessing and curse to spend most of my days with them. it's become an emerald city, a diamond as big as the ritz.

and now i'm a block away from central park.

I stroll through the streets looking at all of these places that bear a striking resemblance to all of the places I've seen from so far away for so long now. my favorite films to terrible tv shows. but all of them here. right here before me.

I told myself I wouldn't get attached.

a flight that lasts an hour and change and there you are. this place looks like that place in The Terminal. there is a woman screaming at people to be better at getting in cabs. apparently they should know this by now. reckon i wasn't half bad.

the cab driver is old, hunched over the steering wheel. and my perception is that he is an atrocious driver, creating lanes where there appear to be none and cutting people off. but then that probably qualifies as a quality driver around here.

there are cables running up the apartment buildings to accommodate the miracle of television once upon a time.

meanwhile we head to the eugene o'neill theatre for a preview of the new musical by the south park creators. which is brilliant by the way.

and then a delicious midnight dinner. little pricey, but what are you gonna do. it's new york. it tastes better.

i have to force myself because i'm still too excited to sleep. this city has worn me out but i'm ready for more.

i'm still waiting for it to hit me. maybe it never will. maybe this is where i belong.

welcome to new york city.

I wrote this thing one time

So...Nanny McPhee is just the ugly, nonmusical Mary Poppins right?

You'd think if she had all that magic she could conjure some music for my entertainment.

Of course, I could be way off-base with this. I've never seen either of the films.

But you know, I've been learning a lot lately.

I've learned that sometimes it's okay to lie. Like when I say things like "The WWE Elimination Chamber was created by the devil himself." Really I'm just using But it's not okay to use that as the opening statement of the eulogy of a dog-sledding champion whose death is in no way related to professional silliness. But then I suppose dog-sledding isn't the most worthwhile of activities. To most. On second thought, it is okay if that particular thesis statement somehow initiates and introduces a long schpiel that gradually unravels the dark and terribly intriguing mystery of how this particular dog-sledding champion did not tragically and stupidly drive his sled off of that cliff to his doom, but rather just tragically, because HE WAS ALREADY SLAIN! By some dastardly villain, who then mounted the old hot-dog-tied-to-a-stick-by-a-string-so-as-to-motivate-forward-motion gag. But in this case, it wasn't so humorous, but more...deadly. Well, for the dogs.



Sure, the old Pavlov's death bit.



But that's besides the point. In the murderer's haste, he left behind the damning evidence of an oversized, shiny belt. IT WAS THE UNDERTAKER!

(the professional wrestler, the Undertaker. does he still wrestle? i'm too lazy to look it up right now. we have to get something more convenient than this whole world at your fingertips, because laziness is the mother of innovation. someone get on that.)

And thus the crime was solved, which gave everyone a lot of mixed feelings, being that they are very sad about the death of this hypothetical dogsledder, but also very happy that the crime was solved.


it's gonna get real awkward when he shows up to bury the body and all. because he's gonna get all defensive and maybe deny it, that sort of thing. very confrontational situation. which i'm not good at. it's also going to be awkward because i slammed a pie into the face of the corpse, in an impulsive attempt to lighten the mood. take it from me, not a good idea.
do you think he does it because he needs the money, or do you think he does it as acting research? Or do you think he just enjoys the work? Given this incident, I would say the latter. Maybe that's the motive. He just wanted the business.

you should have suspected something earlier when he called you to recommend his services, and this is the first you're hearing of the upsetting news. kinda stupid of you.

but not really because this is all an elaborate lie. I don't say that that is what it is because I assume you're aware of that, but then I spit a lot of bullshit and in essence i'm not certain if you know that that's what that smell is and i'm not sure if you know that i know that that is what it is, or what's going on. But that sounds kinda weird so I'm not going to say that.

what about the sled dogs? nobody cares. it's very sad. that's people though, very discriminatory when it comes to species.

I say things that aren't true, not to be dishonest but rather to entertain the both of us.

oh anyway, i'm saying that dogsledding is in many ways a very virtuous sort of activity, whereas pretend fighting? not so much.



and that's why the devil killed Iron Will.



so this is what i'm thinking about when i'm not paying attention to the things going on around me. sorry. i feel bad. i have a condition. it's probably Bieber Fever what were you saying?

But what's that on TV IS THAT 27 DRESSES OH MY GOD I HAVE TO GO

what i did over break...

...as abstracted and dramatized by my parents' dogs.

starring Charlie and Sonia...

I present to you the breathtaking heartwarming brainsquishing two-part cell phone video series -

"Yogurt Envy"

and now the thrilling conclusion!

TA-DA!

Facial gymnastics

Cat person or dog person?

half dog, half cat, half person.

cats are cleaner. dogs are more fun. it all depends on what i'm hungry for.

Ask me anything

Is This Illegal? This Is Probably Illegal. It Probably Should Be Illegal.

Which is to say the recording myself while driving thing, not the chocolate milk thing.  Oh, you'll see.

All's my car stereo's got is a tape deck and a radio, so I'm fairly limited in my entertainment for extensive driving. 

So this happens.