Today was catch up day. So much catch up because of my sickness. Matter of fact, I had so much catch up to do that I can’t even remember what the hell this title of this post means. “End Of Level One”? I wrote this like 5 hours ago and I’m so confused. I clearly wrote it as a way to remind me of what I had to write for today. But then you start writing for the other days you’ve neglected and everything becomes mush.
This is your brain . . . This is your brain on too many blog posts.
SERIOUSLY, what the fuck. Sorry, but the “f” word is totally necessary . . . I feel like that was for my mom and mom-in-law. I have a filthy mouth. Sorry moms . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
BUT IN ALL SERIOUSNESS, WHAT THE FUCK. End of Level One?
Video Game reference? Maybe. But why would I write about beating level one? What, am I 8 again and I just got a Nintendo and stayed up all night to beat Super Mario Brothers level 1? Yeah, mom, I did that. And I almost peed myself because playing a video game always trumps urination. Didn’t you ever wonder why I would wiggle my legs back and forth when I was playing video games? I wasn’t excited, I was holding back the river Nile.
Mom, I would like the Nintendo in here so I can kill two birds with one stone . . . one smelly, brown stone.
Could it mean I’m happy to be on the second floor of an apartment building? God that’s lame. Why would I write that. I’ve never been on the first floor of an apartment building. Well, in college I was. That was different . . . Ha, I remember the time I was so drunk I couldn’t fish my keys out of my front pocket so I thought I lost them. I banged on the window so hard it cracked. Then I passed out i the bushes . . . first floor apartment . . . Sorry, mom . . . moms . . . and land lady whom I told a stranger broke the window.
No, seriously MS. Land Lady, a shirtless babe ran up, broke the window and disappeared from my life . . . like all women seem to do to me.
Jesus. Did I just get through the first stage of AA? I’ve been really sick. Who knows. I mean, I could have been drunk when I wrote that . . . a celebratory drink for reaching level one. Nah, that’s in poor taste. Almost as poor as when my brother Pat and I played a drinking game while watching Intervention: every time someone drank on the show, we did too.
When I google searched Intervention for a photo, I got this gun. So you get this gun. Sorry, no drunk people pictures.
Oh no. . . Scientology. God no. I joined Scientology. My Thetons made me do it! Like the time I was coaxed into taking a Scientology personality test in London. I had no idea what it was and I kept having this weird feeling someone was watching me. Then I turned around and a giant 6 foot bust of L. Ron Hubbard was staring at me. That was weird. Right John Travolta?
Right? John, I’m down here. Under the giant Scientology sign . . . what do you mean there is no giant Scientology sign?
You know what screw it. I’m keeping the title. I’m also moving on. This post sucks. Have a great day. Intervention is on.
356/365 – End of Level One
Today was catch up day. So much catch up because of my sickness. Matter of fact, I had so much catch up to do that I can’t even remember what the hell this title of this post means. “End Of Level One”? I wrote this like 5 hours ago and I’m so confused. I clearly wrote it as a way to remind me of what I had to write for today. But then you start writing for the other days you’ve neglected and everything becomes mush.
This is your brain . . . This is your brain on too many blog posts.
SERIOUSLY, what the fuck. Sorry, but the “f” word is totally necessary . . . I feel like that was for my mom and mom-in-law. I have a filthy mouth. Sorry moms . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
BUT IN ALL SERIOUSNESS, WHAT THE FUCK. End of Level One?
Video Game reference? Maybe. But why would I write about beating level one? What, am I 8 again and I just got a Nintendo and stayed up all night to beat Super Mario Brothers level 1? Yeah, mom, I did that. And I almost peed myself because playing a video game always trumps urination. Didn’t you ever wonder why I would wiggle my legs back and forth when I was playing video games? I wasn’t excited, I was holding back the river Nile.
Mom, I would like the Nintendo in here so I can kill two birds with one stone . . . one smelly, brown stone.
Could it mean I’m happy to be on the second floor of an apartment building? God that’s lame. Why would I write that. I’ve never been on the first floor of an apartment building. Well, in college I was. That was different . . . Ha, I remember the time I was so drunk I couldn’t fish my keys out of my front pocket so I thought I lost them. I banged on the window so hard it cracked. Then I passed out i the bushes . . . first floor apartment . . . Sorry, mom . . . moms . . . and land lady whom I told a stranger broke the window.
No, seriously MS. Land Lady, a shirtless babe ran up, broke the window and disappeared from my life . . . like all women seem to do to me.
Jesus. Did I just get through the first stage of AA? I’ve been really sick. Who knows. I mean, I could have been drunk when I wrote that . . . a celebratory drink for reaching level one. Nah, that’s in poor taste. Almost as poor as when my brother Pat and I played a drinking game while watching Intervention: every time someone drank on the show, we did too.
When I google searched Intervention for a photo, I got this gun. So you get this gun. Sorry, no drunk people pictures.
Oh no. . . Scientology. God no. I joined Scientology. My Thetons made me do it! Like the time I was coaxed into taking a Scientology personality test in London. I had no idea what it was and I kept having this weird feeling someone was watching me. Then I turned around and a giant 6 foot bust of L. Ron Hubbard was staring at me. That was weird. Right John Travolta?
Right? John, I’m down here. Under the giant Scientology sign . . . what do you mean there is no giant Scientology sign?
You know what screw it. I’m keeping the title. I’m also moving on. This post sucks. Have a great day. Intervention is on.