Getting Progress Part 3: Whistling Urine

There still hasn’t been any progress attained. In fact I may be making backwards progress. I’ve been a good deal lonely this week, which is not a feeling I care to have. I wish I could turn the loneliness into anger because I could then turn that into progress, but this wasn’t angry loneliness. This was the basic lay in bed listening to sad songs thinking of her loneliness. But no one wants to hear my sorrows, so let’s move on to better things. Boo loneliness, yay Cars 2.

Actually nay Cars 2. I had to help my mother with work this week and that required me to watch Cars 2. I’ve never seen the first Cars. I’m not hugely fond of animated movies to began with, even though I’m aware Pixar makes amazing movies although the half an hour of Up I watch was thoroughly unimpressive, although to be fair I was watching it at three in the morning sort of drunk lying on Nathan’s couch after we had gotten back from a club with only two rules, everybody gets some but Quentin and Nathan, and the bathrooms must be packed with people and inane chatter at all times making it hard for Quentin to urinate because he’s wildly narcissistic and assumes everyone must be trying to sneak a peak at his thoroughly unimpressive cock, which gets us back to Up, which gets us back to animated movies, which gets us back to Cars, which Quentin also didn’t see because sadly he has no interest in cars, even animated ones (apparently this is written in third person now) just the way Quentin likes it.

I guess the second one was entertaining. I could see how kids would enjoy it, but it wasn’t very funny. Wall-E was much more hilarious. Oh good lord the fat people. So hilarious. Actually Wall-E is the only movie I can think of where I fell asleep in the theater. I had stayed up the whole night and had to help my mother with work, which is pretty much the only time I go to the theater. I had a bunch of extra time to kill so I watched Wall-E and was enjoying the first part of it, but then once all the action started I got incredibly bored and tired and fell asleep and when I awoke everyone was fat and floating around drinking food through a straw. If I’m spoiling any of Wall-E I apologize, but then again I can’t be that sorry otherwise I just would have deleted this paragraph. I think Wall-E is wildy overrated, granted I have no idea how much people really do love it, I just don’t give it much credit for its dystopian version. People seem to make that out like it was brilliant or something. I think most of us have been well aware that we’re becoming incredibly lazy. It’s not like it was some Inception like concept. Here’s how the meeting for the movie went,

Guy 1, “Hey, Guy 2, you know how everyone is getting lazier?”

Guy 2, “Shut the hell up, I’m trying to take a nap.”

Guy 1, “What if we exaggerate it by like a million?”

Guy 2, “How’s that interesting at all?”

Guy 1, “We’ll add a cute little robot.”

Guy 2, “Brilliant!”

Listen, I’m not saying Wall-E is a horrible movie by any means. All I’m saying is that it’s really hard for me to jerk off to a robot love story (that’s what was being said?)

I also got to watch a little bit of Bad Teacher, and if I was a horrible film critic I’d say, “The teacher wasn’t the only bad thing in this movie,” but I’m not, so instead I’ll stay away from the cliché and just say that this movie taught me well in the ways of bad film making. I only saw about half the movie, and it wasn’t that great, but I wasn’t expecting it to be as soon as I found out it was written by two The Office writers who I’m not particularly fond of. I was glad to see Phyllis from The Office get some nice laughs in the movie though.

So in conclusion Wall-E is better than Cars 2, Up has a grumpy old man in it, Toy Story wasn’t talked about, I’ve been pretty lonely this week but I don’t want any help from Cameron Diaz, and I prefer peeing in solitude because I like whistling to myself.

#84 The Truth Is, You Should Lie With Me by Say Anything

“I Caught you looking at my reflection. This is not the way we procreate. Give me something else than affection. Swollen suffering fantasy of hate.”

The truth is I started this one out with lyrics because I didn’t know what to start off saying. Also I didn’t purposely start this paragraph with ‘the truth is’ because that’s how the name of the song starts. Rather it was probably just stuck in my head from staring at it for so long, so when I went to start this off it naturally fit in with how I wanted to start it. I don’t know why I like to explain when I chose to write things a certain way, but I can guarantee you that if I did know why I would explain it to you. [Jesus H. Christ, I just read this paragraph over and it’s truly terrible, I blame none of you if you decide to stop reading….now.]

I don’t know how many Say Anything songs made my list, so far this is the third, and I probably won’t officially count how many there were until the last one is written about, which won’t be for a long time, but I can safely presume that Say Anything has more songs on this list than any other band.

Wow, I’m boring myself. I haven’t said one interesting thing yet, nor have I said anything with even a trace of humor in it. I’m off my game tonight (which ironically is actually you being on your game) touché. Maybe it’s because unlike when I usually write I’m not listening to music, but instead watching an old episode of King of the Hill, which is actually one of the newer episodes of it, which I could tell because there was a reference to Michael Buble, only with an accent mark over the e.? Or maybe the writing sucks because I was chewing on a sucker stick that has been devoid of all sucker remnants for at least half an hour? (Maybe you should just talk about the damn song?)

“You’re a pretty face, you should like me. I want to get used by you. Cause I’m full of hate, just excite me. I want to get bruised by you.”

Again, lyrics have been written because I am not sure what else to write. I could tell you all about how I’m not wearing any pants right now, but those stories usually only go over well with bulimic forums (Are the people in the forum bulimic or is the forum itself bulimic?) It doesn’t matter, it was just a joke. Crap, Star Trek The Next Generation is on. Change the channel. Change the channel! I’m not a Star Trek fan, if you couldn’t tell. I don’t have any particular beef with Patrick Stewart. [Didn’t plan this, but that’s not the last time ‘beef’ will be brought up.] In fact I like him for his work on American Dad. I don’t particularly love the show American Dad, I just like that a person of his celebrity would be a semi regular voice actor on a show of that persuasion. Why have you not changed the channel yet? (You have to change the channel yourself, the readers can’t) Oh. Well if that isn’t a d’oh moment right there (for the love of God talk about the song).

“When you burn in hell they’ll remind you of all the things you’ve screwed up in your life. I’ll be one of them if you’re inclined to turn away from the ever glowing light.”

I actually enjoy that section of lyrics from the song very much, but more importantly I bet if there was a list of the most common phrases used on my blog ‘for the love of God’ would be among the most frequent ones used, along with ‘you gotta believe me’, ‘Jesus H. Christ’, ‘I swear I wasn’t masturbating to that,’ and of course, ‘Jesus H. Christ, I swear I wasn’t masturbating to that, for the love of God, you gotta believe me!’

Can someone please tell me why I’m staring at the guy from Reading Rainbowand a monster with odd looking long hair and an awkward goatee? The special effects on this show are so bad it’s actually entertaining. [That had nothing to do with that character’s hair and make-up.]

“All I want is to see through you. If only you were alive I could trust in you. But now alone in your bed we’ll prove. You do not have to love to be in pain, boo.”

By far my mostest favoritest part of the song is the lastest 39 and ½ seconds. I like adding ‘est’ to the end of words. Screw getting plastic surgery, or dating a younger person, if you want to feel younger just add ‘est’ to the end of everything. Makes me feel like I’m five.

What the hell, they don’t have a tanning machine on the Starship Enterprise? Lieutenant Commander Data is paler than Conan O’Brien’s ass in the dead of winter (What did Conan ever do to you?) Nothing, but me and his ass have beef. And I didn’t start it. But if his ass wants beef I’m more than willing to give his ass some big beef (I hate you) I hate me too.

“The Truth is, you should lie with me.”

The Diary Of Cleaning My Room part one (there will be no part two)

I decided to sprouse up my room a little and while doing so I thought it’d be nice to write. That way instead of just focusing all my energy on either cleaning my room or writing I can do both, and instead of getting one thing completed with relative competency I can get two things done in a half assed manner, which I feel is ¼ as efficient as normal, and since I’m bad with fractions I have no idea if that’s good or bad, but I’m in an optimistic mood so I’ll assume its good.

Minute one: There’s too much crap to clean up and organize. I quit.

Minute two: After further evaluation I’ve decided that quitting is not an option. After all did Japan quit after we bombed Hiroshima? No, which is why we bombed Nagasaki too. So what convoluted point am I trying to get across? That’s a real question for you folks. I’m done trying to figure out what the fuck my brain is doing. Please do it for me.

Minute 19: I just realized the great baby kitties pissing of 2010 ran deeper than I expected. My pocket dictionary (which by the way is far too big to fit comfortably in any pocket, it’s bigger than any phone or wallet ever would be, which the exception of cell phones in the 80s and George Costanza’s wallet) is covered pretty good in dry baby kitty  piss. Shows what kitties think of Webster, I guess next time I’ll get the Oxford English dictionary.

Minute 36: I found a little piece of paper with a bunch of my writing on it including a Nietzche quote I copied out of the Viktor Frankl book Man’s Search For Meaning. The quote is ‘He who has a why to live for can bear with any how.’ And written directly under that are the words ‘a scene with two porn stars.’ I don’t think the two things are connected, although I think now I’ll find a way to connect them in an upcoming short story I work out half the plot for but never begin to write.

Minute 40: Had to kill a spider that I had been letting live in the corner of my room for the past few days. He got bigger, which led to all the more womanly scream when I worked up the courage to squish him with a couple napkins that are apparently made with 100% recycled material.

Minute 57: What is all this crap!?

Hour 1 Minute 30: Stuck my hand in a plastic bag to retrieve a plastic fork and three things of some kind of green sauce and my hand got all wet and now I’m scared.

Hour 1 Minute 40: Found my address book. It’s been pretty useless recently but brings back the nostalgia before I had a cell phone. Yep, what a pathetically nostalgic time.

Hour 2: Found what I think is the first version of the Closer To Clarity movie script and with each year that goes by it seems to be worse and worse. Also it’s surprisingly lacking in masturbation humor.

Day 3 Hour 8 Minute 48: I pretty much stopped cleaning my room after I found some of my old writing and started looking through it all. I don’t know when I’ll start cleaning my room again, but probably not for a while. I’m just glad I can see my floor now.

A podcast of me and some dude named Chris talking about 6 common misused words

Not a response to David…

I still have a few things to respond to concerning David’s comment, but because last night I spent all my time listening to podcasts while playing online chest – losing to that damn super computer over and over again – and today I’m in school all day and will likely go straight to bed after posting this once I get home, I did not and will not have time to fully respond the way I’d like to respond to the remainder of David’s comment. Plus I have a killer headache so I can’t really think appropriately right now. I have an hour and a half before my writing class and I’m going to spend all that time sitting here staring at the screen, hopefully writing every once in a while, and once class starts I’m just going to sit not focusing on anything the teacher is saying because all my energy will be spent  counting down the seconds until six o’clock so I can go home, post this crap online – keeping alive my resolution of posting a blog every day – and then pass out on my bed with my shoes on just like I did Tuesday. I woke up at nine last night so there’s a pretty good chance I’ll sleep more than 12 hours which means I’ll have convoluted dreams and a drool soaked pillow.

For lunch I had a small bag of sour cream and onion Ruffles and half a small bag of chili cheese Fritos. Quite healthy I know. I was going to make myself a couple of peanut butter and raspberry jam sandwiches but I got into the shower late this morning which means I got out of it late and then sat on my ass for about ten minutes before I started to fully dry off and put clothes on, so by the time I realized making sandwiches was a viable option I would have been late to school if I decided to do so. I can’t believe I wrote any of that.

The walk to school was pleasant except that there were these two old Asian ladies walking down the middle of the street. I didn’t get it. Why weren’t they walking on the sidewalk? It bothered me. My theory was that in Asia, their presumed motherland, most of their roads were quite shitty and made of dirt, so walking in the middle of them is common.  Two things about that sentence: How racist am I that I figure most Asian countries still primarily have dirt roads? No, fuck that. Firstly these were old ladies so when they were back in Asia like a hundred years ago the dirt roads were probably the really nice roads too them. I’m not racist for thinking roads in Asia are crappy. I’m racist for thinking Asian’s are too dumb to ever have nice paved roads. I’m fucking kidding of course. Asian’s are like masters of engineering.  It’s just many of their countries are too poor to afford paved roads. I would actually prefer that. I don’t like all these cars driving around. For one they’re killing my breathing air. And for two they’re big and scary and I’m pretty sure if one of them hit me it would kill me. I tend not to like things that could kill me. But anyway the second thing about that original sentence I was going to say two things about is that I said ‘quite shitty’ and I enjoy saying quite in front of words that aren’t necessarily considered part of appropriate speech etiquette, but I can assure you I don’t care what’s appropriate, quite a fucking lot.

blah……………………………………………..

The Grammys are on tonight. I don’t care. I may or may not watch them. No one is performing that I care about and since I have the internet now I don’t need to record Beyonce’s performance and keep rewatching it while I jerk off, not that I ever did do that (seriously though, that never happened, at least not with Beyonce).

I’ve decided to take a different route for writing tonight, however I will leave the above paragraph as a constant reminder that I in no way want to write about the Grammys. However this leaves me with nothing to write about for today. This has become a common occurrence over the past month. Ah, I just realized what I can write about. A mini update on my new year resolutions.

The guitar playing is going well I suppose. I still don’t know how to play any songs but I haven’t really been trying to learn any songs. The idea of playing a song written by another person sort of disgusts me in a way. It feels like the equivalent of if I wrote something that was already written by another person. I guess playing a song written by another person is kind of like when people quote another person, which seems to be an acceptable act in our society. An act I don’t quite like. I’ll admit I’m more than just a little jealous. If I were to play a song by another person, or read a passage from a book I didn’t write, to someone and they quite enjoyed it I’d feel a little bad because they were enjoying something I didn’t create. That’s a jealous thought right? I get that it’s a little different with music because you’d be playing another person’s song but it still takes some talent to know how to play the song. But it just feels wrong to me.  But again I think that comes mostly from a jealous stand point (wow, this paragraph has been extremely unfunny). Not everything I do has to be funny (well nothing is ever funny) well not everything I do needs to be an attempt at being funny (it need to be interesting at least) and this wasn’t interesting? (have you read it?) no (read it) okay. Wow, that totally wasn’t interesting (told you).

School is going so-so I guess. I don’t think I’ll be able to make my goal of transferring within the year. Lately school has seemed rather pointless and useless, but I know it’s something I have to do in order to not feel like a complete and utter failure in life for the moment. The math homework is beating the shit out of me. When I’m doing the homework its fine but I’m just too lazy to get up the energy to get the homework out and start doing it because math plays no fucking part in what I want to do with my life so I find it fucking pointless that I’m forced to take it in order to transfer. It’s fucking useless! But I’ve recently bitched about math so I’m not going to do it again. At least not here, but I’m calling David immediately to bitch some more.

The dream of doing stand up comedy has not become a nightmare yet, which is a bad thing, because at least if it were I nightmare I would have attempted it. It’s been one month and I haven’t gotten up on stage at all, except for amateur night at Willy’s Big Peter, which turned out not to be a comedy club, but it wasn’t a total bust because I made 31 dollars in ones and took home a trophy for third place. I haven’t been writing any comedy bits. I’m so fucking lazy. It’s beginning to take a toll on my life (it’s been taking a toll the last 22 years). I can’t do anything by myself. I need the motivation of having people to count on me to get anything done. I can’t do anything for myself. I just don’t see the point.

I’ve been writing everyday so that’s good I guess.

Dialogue Exercise for my writing class

“Ralph,” Billy called to Ralph.

“What do you want?” Ralph said looking up from the textbook he was reading.

“I need help with a writing assignment for my writing class.”

“Sure,” Ralph said taking off his glasses and placing them on his textbook. “What’s the trouble?”

“I need to do a dialogue exercise.”

“And?”

“And I have no idea what dialogue is.”

“I can only hope for your parent’s sake, nay, your future children’s sake that you’re joking.”

“I’m not joking,” Billy said not at all joking.

“How exactly does a person make it to the age of 21 and not know what dialogue is?”

“I blame the school system.”

“Of course you do.”

“Well why should I be in charge of my well being?”

“Certainly not because it’s your well being, emphasis on your,” Ralph said.

“Well my well being doesn’t matter right now. I need to know what dialogue is.”

“Can’t you just Google it? Contrary to popular opinion Google can be used for more than just searching for porn.”

“I tried that already,” Billy said staring at a large breasted woman talking with another woman with more proportionally sized breasts.

“And Google didn’t work?” Ralph said a little louder than normal making sure to get Billy’s attention back.

“It led to porn.”

“Shocking.”

“The internet is not too good for me,” Billy said quickly glancing back at the girls. “I figured I’d come to you since you lack all horniness.”

“I don’t lack all horniness. I like sex as much as the next guy. Unless the next guy is Tiger Woods.”

Billy stared blankly. “Tiger Woods is a golfer, not a porn star.”

“You don’t watch the news do you?”

“It’s boring and has no point.”

“The point is to inform people.”

“Of what?”

“Of the news,” Ralph said annoyed. “For God’s sake do you know anything?”

“I know I don’t know what dialogue is and I came here to find out but so far you’ve been nothing but…” Billy stopped talking to check out a hot chick who entered the room.

“I’d finish your sentence for you but that would be showing some use and therefore make your sentence a lie, which I wouldn’t want to do.” That didn’t work so Ralph employed a new tactic to get Billy’s attention back. “I hear Megan Fox is doing a nude scene in Transformers 3.”

“Really?” Billy said.

“Didn’t your teacher explain to the class what dialogue was? Or did he just assume the majority of the class wasn’t idiots?”

“She did, but I wasn’t paying attention because I was too busy trying to figure out if my teacher is pregnant or not. Nate doesn’t think so, but I’m not too sure. I think her breasts have gotten bigger, but not like fake implants bigger.”

“I would say I don’t care,” Ralph begun, “but I do care. Actually at the moment my chief concern in life is hearing more about whether your teacher is pregnant or not. Global warming: don’t care. African genocide: couldn’t care less. How American Idol is going to be next season without Simon Cowell, well actually I really don’t care about that. But please, please, by all means continue to waste my time by telling me about how your teacher may or may not be pregnant.”

“She’s pretty hot,” Billy said. “I bet she cheats on her husband. I’ve seen pictures and he’s not a looker. She’s totally out of his league.”

“Go away Billy,” Ralph said putting his glasses back on.

“But what am I going to do about my dialogue exercise?” Billy pleaded. “All I’ve got so far is a paper with two hot chicks having a conversation.”

“Turn that in for your class you dumbass.”

Crappy Post of the Week

The other day I watched the movie the Watchmen. I wasn’t particularly looking forward to watching it, I just needed something to do to distract myself from the other things I was doing. You see I live my life one of two ways. Either I’m doing nothing, and by that I mean lying on the bed doing absolutely nothing at all. Or I’m in a constant state of multitasking, so much to the point that everything I am doing cancels each other out so it’s basically the same as doing nothing. For example I’m often watching TV, listening to music, writing, fucking around with the guitar making unbearable sounds, and thinking depressing thoughts all at the same time. But really while trying to devote my attention equally to each one I end up not devoting any attention to any, but rather staying in some kind of flux between being completely oblivious to everything I’m doing, and having my brain hurt. Anyway, what I think I’m trying to say is that I enjoy doing nothing, so rather then doing one thing and focusing my complete attention on that, I focus on many things so much to the point that I can’t focus on any of them at all and therefore am doing the equivalent of nothing, which means all is well in the universe (hmm, and what does this have to do with The Watchmen?) Well the only reason I was watching the Watchmen was so I could focus on more things and therefore really be focusing on nothing, which is the only way I can watch movies anymore, or so I thought.

So I was watching The Watchmen, the directors cut which is slightly more than three hours and I don’t recommend because I thought the movie was way too long and unnecessarily long. The story could have been better told in probably an hour and a half. But anyway – and don’t be worried if you haven’t seen the Watchmen because I’m not going to spoil anything, well maybe – there were a couple things that I took notice of while watching the movie. First of all before seeing the movie I had heard a lot about the blue thingy in the movie’s large penis. I didn’t find it that large. I’m by no means complementing myself here. I don’t judge other penises based on my own. If that were the case every penis would be worthy of porn compared to mine. I just mean that this blue guy’s penis was so hyped that I was expecting more. Sure it was a good size – although his balls weren’t impressive – but it wasn’t black pornstar big, and I was kind of hoping it would be (hoping?) I mean expecting, not hoping, why would I hope for such a thing, I’m not gay? (What’s with the question mark?) I don’t know what you’re talking about. Anyway, spoiler alert, the blue guys penis, which you get to see a decent amount of times, is not super big, just pretty big, but you don’t get to see it at full glory, which is probably good because I would have wasted a huge amount of time getting out a ruler and measuring and then having to figure out some kind of scale of the scene so I could correctly convert the penis into the appropriate size to compare to mine.

Another thing that I realized while watching the movie was that I like watching bad movies. The Watchmen wasn’t necessarily a bad movie, and had it been shorter I might have considered it a good movie, but while watching it and wondering how it was going to end the whole time reminded me of all the times I’ve sat through really bad movies just to get to the end. Less than a week ago, or exactly just over a week ago, I watched the piece of shit movie Drive Me Crazy, starring Melissa Joan Hart. It was one of those millions of crappy teen movies made in the 90s or possibly early 00s. And even though I knew how it was going to end, and it was on one o’clock at night on TV which meant I had to sit through super crappy commercials, including many of which that were trying to entice me to call sexy local singles in my town – I won’t say whether or not those commercials worked or not, but I will say my phone bill is going to be rather expensive this month (when you say stuff like that I’m not sure people know you’re kidding) it’s funnier if they don’t know I’m kidding – I still through the whole piece of crap movie.  For some reason I can just sit through extremely bad, cheesy movies, and I enjoy doing it (It’s probably that seeing something that crappy makes you feel better). Which is why more people should read my writing; it’d make them feel wonderful about their own writing.

Whether by Fate, Coincidence, or Complete Fabrication

“Jesus H. Christ, that’s Jesus Christ,” I said to myself, staring into the toilet bowl full of puke which I had proudly produced all by myself. “Of all the toilets in all the homes in all the world, you had to appear in mine.” I had never seen Casablanca, but I heard the quote enough times to add the proper replacements and make it my own in that bizarre moment. Although technically this toilet didn’t belong to me, but to whoever owned this house that this Halloween party was being thrown at, but I considered the toilet to be my own in that peculiar moment.

I got up off my knees and stared at Jesus Christ from further away. It was still him. He didn’t speak to me. I wish he had. It would have gave the moment meaning, or more meaning I guess. “Speak for God’s sake,” I said to Jesus, laughing a little. Before the toilet full of puke could answer, although I’m starting to doubt it would have, I heard a pound on the door, followed by a not so friendly sentiment encouraging me to hurry up and quit talking to myself. “I’ll do one of the two for you,” I said as I flushed the toilet and watched Jesus Christ turn back into my vomit. I turned to the mirror, “I hope he chooses for me to hurry up because I’d really like to continue talking to myself.” I chuckled a little more than was deserved.

“The faucets aren’t labeled,” I said noticing the faucets weren’t labeled. I twisted the left one hoping it would be the hot water. It started off cold but I was vaguely confident it would soon warm up. It didn’t. I continued with the cold water not caring to correct my mistake. I looked in the mirror and I was hideous. I should have dressed up as Frankenstein for Halloween. I would have looked better. “Rose could never love me.” I splashed some of that cold water on my face. It sent a shiver up my spine and I looked in the mirror again. “Yeah, cause that’s going to make her love you,” I said to the mirrored me. “It’s almost better than nothing,” he said back.

I didn’t dress up as anything for Halloween. I chickened out. I was thinking about going as Mikhail Gorbachev, but there wasn’t enough room on my forehead for that weird mark, or stain, or whatever it is. But hey, now I’ve got an okay Halloween costume in my back pocket for when I go bald, assuming I’ll go bald.

I turned off the cold water. As I dried off my hands I continued to look at myself in the mirror not approving of what I saw, and that’s when I saw hanging over my shoulder. It was a framed Bible quote placed on the wall over the toilet, Proverbs 3:5, 6: Trust in the LORD with all your heart, and lean not on your own understanding; In all your ways acknowledge Him, and He shall direct your paths.

I read it over a few times and on the third or fourth time some guy walked into the bathroom spouting off about me taking forever and not being able to wait any longer. And then he called me crazy for talking to myself. The balls on this guy, calling me crazy when he was the one who busted into an occupied bathroom and proceeded to urinate while another man was standing next to him trying to make sense of a Bible quote. He quickly made with his business and left, but I was alone for no more than a second as a girl dressed as a slutty cheerleader – at least I’m assuming – swiftly entered and stared at me staring at the quote.

“You’ve got to leave. I literally don’t have the balls to pee in front of you like that other guy did,” she said laughing, thinking she was being witty, as most people do when they use the word literally.

I nodded but before leaving I grabbed the framed quote off the wall. It came off without a struggle. I didn’t see the look on the girl’s face but I imagine she was confused. I took the quote with me as I exited the bathroom. “Good luck,” I said as I shut the door.

I made my way through the partiers in the hallway back to the partiers in the living room. I looked to the couch where me and my friends had been sitting before my excursion to the bathroom, but they were no longer there. Instead I found myself staring at a male dressed as Luke Skywalker making out with a female dressed as Princess Leia. I turned away from the disturbing, yet oddly arousing, image and found my two friends standing in the corner. They appeared to be looking at Luke and Leia also. I made my way to them.

“It’s disturbing,” Hercules said.

“Why?” Frodo (from Lord of the Rings) responded, making it the pair of them not to greet me back from the bathroom.

“They’re brother and sister. It’s just plain wrong.”

“They’re not really brother and sister though. They’re just dressed as it”

“Are you telling me you wouldn’t mind making out with a girl dressed as your sister?” Hercules said with his hand firmly on his plastic sword as if Frodo didn’t respond correctly he would cut him in half.

“First of all I don’t have a sister. But if I did I’m pretty sure I could make out with a girl dressed as her. And second…”

“I don’t want to hear more,” I butted in, “This is getting disturbing.” I handed the framed quote to Frodo. “Hey take a look at this quote for me.”

“What took you so long?” Hercules said.

“I was vomiting.”

“You haven’t even drank anything.”

“I’m nervous.”

“Rose?”

“No. Maybe. Yeah. Of course, Rose.”

“Don’t worry about it, she likes you.” He gave me a confiding smile but because of his outfit it just looked creepy and I really wanted him to stop.

“What is this about?” Frodo said holding up the framed quote. Hercules grabbed it from him and started to read it.

“I found it in the bathroom. I think it’s a sign.”

“So you stole it?” Frodo said.

“No, I barrowed it, I’ll put it back later. And it’s not just the quote. Before that I saw Jesus H. Christ in the form of my puke. I think there may be a meaning behind all this.”

“You puked? And I thought you didn’t believe in God?”

“I did,” I said in response to puking, “and I don’t,” I said in response to my belief in god, “but I’m sure that was Jesus Christ I saw.”

“In puke form,” Frodo corrected.

“Nonetheless it was him. And then I see this quote hanging on the bathroom wall, no more than five feet above where Jesus Christ had been floating in the toilet seconds earlier. I think the quote is telling me I should trust in Jesus.”

“The quote is telling you to trust in the LORD,” Hercules said looking up from the quote. “The LORD could be considered as Jesus, but Proverbs was originally a part of the Old Testament, which makes no mention of Jesus, so I think here clearly the LORD is referring to God, and not Jesus. It would have made more sense if you saw God in your puke.”

“I thought God and Jesus could be considered the same?” I said.

“I don’t know,” Hercules said befuddled. “I’m going to go get another beer.” He handed the framed quote to me and walked to the kitchen.

“So what do you think?” I said turning to Frodo.

“I think you’re crazy,” he said bluntly.

“Well that’s a given, but what should I do about the quote, and the Jesus made of puke?”

“You think the quote is telling you to listen to Jesus, and you saw Jesus in the toilet, but did toilet Jesus tell you to do anything?”

“No, he just stared at me.” Frodo stared at me. “But maybe he didn’t need to say anything to me? Maybe it’s something I already know and I need to look deep down inside myself to figure out?

“You know what I think?” He didn’t wait for my reply to tell me what he thought I thought. “I think you’re nervous about Rose tonight.”

The Hobbit was right about that. I had met Rose twice before but the last time had been five months ago. The bulk of our friendship took place over late night phone conversations that consisted of me making lame jokes and her laughing at said lame jokes and then me trying to figure out how a person could laugh at such lame jokes. However over the last few weeks it was becoming clear that there might be something more to us than just a friendship based on lame jokes. The problem was she lived a few cities over, so until I learned to navigate semi-long distance bus routes, or to drive a car without being magnetically pulled to the sidewalk, I didn’t have much of a chance to see her – by the way, there was an example of one of my lame jokes, not the best I know, but I work for quantity not quality. That night Rose was in town for the weekend visiting her friends, and she invited me to that Halloween party. It would be the first time I would see her since we had connected on a non-lame joke basis. I was excited. I was also very nervous.

“So I think,” The Hobbit continued, “you need to get some alcohol in your system to get rid of those nerves. And you definitely don’t need to mention the whole Jesus in the shitter incident.”

“She might have an interesting take on it though,” I said wishing I had said analysis instead of take.

“No. Trust me girls don’t like guys talking about anything they do in the bathroom.”

“I should have said analysis instead of take.”

Frodo didn’t notice or care. “Just tell her she’s beautiful or some bullshit like that.”

My eyebrows rose. “Rose is beautiful. Well I assume so. I mean I’ve only seen her a couple of times, but she was beautiful both those times. And she looks beautiful in all her pictures, so I’m assuming she’ll look beautiful tonight. I’m just hoping she’s not dressed as a vampire or something like that. Not that our pseudo-relationship is based on looks, or is even necessarily a fake relationship or relationship in any way shape or form.”

“What?” Frodo said confused. “And don’t worry, if she’s dressed as a vampire it will be a slutty one.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I wasn’t sure if he was implying she was a slut or that all girls dress slutty on Halloween.

“All girls dress as slutty versions of things on Halloween,” he said, relieving me I guess. “I’m going to go get you something to drink, something strong. You sit tight here and I’ll be back in a minute.”

As he walked away I took another look at the framed Bible quote in my hands. They were probably right. I was crazy to think that that quote and a Jesus made of puke meant more than what they really did, which was nothing, probably. I made my way to the bathroom, waited in line behind two people, and then hung the framed Bible quote back in its rightful place, that being above the toilet of course. I flushed the toilet on my way out as to not arouse suspicion.

On my way back to my spot, where I hoped Frodo would be waiting with my drink, I heard an interesting conversation.

“What time is it John?” Said guy one dressed as Mario.

“Eight thirty-two,” said guy two (perhaps John?)  wearing a Barack Obama mask.

“Really, it seems later than that?”

“Oops, my bad, I can’t see anything through this damn mask. It’s Ten, thirty-one to be exact.”

Not a terribly exciting conversation on the top layer, but that night I was looking deeper. I thought I was over the Jesus in the toilet thing but I wasn’t. One of the guys name was John, and I knew that was a name of one of the books in the New Testament. And he had said the time was Ten thirty-one. I quickly starter to wonder what I would find if I looked up John 10:31 in the Bible. But I needed a Bible in order to find that out. And wouldn’t you know it there was one sitting on the desk right in front of me. I picked it up and flipped to John 10:31. It said: Then the Jews took up stones again to stone him.

Well I had not a God damn clue what that was supposed to mean. But luckily my mind was working fast that night. Thankfully I remember, from a conversation that took place a minute earlier, that originally the guy, John, had said eight thirty-two. So I quickly flipped the page to John 8:32. It said: And you shall know the truth, and the truth will make you free.

“What the hell is this supposed to mean to me?” I said looking around to see if anybody heard me. It appeared they didn’t. “I guess it makes more sense than Jews taking up stones.” I thought about the quote a little more before putting the Bible down and making my way back to the living room, anxious to explain my new finding to either a Hobbit or a Demigod, but instead I found a Flower. Of course I’m referring to Rose and of course she looked beautiful, but I wasn’t calling her a flower because her name was Rose. I was calling her a flower because she was dressed as a flower, but ironically not a rose. She appeared to be a daisy. The petals would make it hard for me to kiss her. I didn’t think that because I was horny. I thought it because I was being observant.

She noticed me. I must’ve looked like an idiot standing across the room staring at her with that way I stare. She quickly smiled and quickly walked over to me. I didn’t expect a hug, but a hug is what I received. Surprisingly the petals didn’t put up much of a cock-block, if I may so use that phrase in a non literal sense? The hug felt good, damn near great. As she released her arms from around me and our bodies separated I silently cursed God that that moment couldn’t be forever.

“How are you?” Rose said. “And where have you been hiding? I’ve been out here for like ten minutes wondering where you were.”

“I’m doing good. Oh, and I was just in the…” I didn’t want to say bathroom for some reason. Frodo may have got to me. “I was in the laundry room.” I’m not sure why I said it either.

“The laundry room?”

“Well no, not really. I was actually, maybe, sort of…” The nerves, they were getting to me. “So you’re dressed as a daisy I see,” I said smooth as cottage cheese.

“You noticed,” she said surprised. “Most guys just assumed because my name is Rose I dressed up as a Rose. I thought it would be ironic to dress up as a different kind of flower.”

“I found it ironic, so yay!” Yay? That doesn’t sound like me at all. “Hope you don’t think I’m gay for knowing how to differentiate flowers?”

“Of course I don’t think you’re gay,” Rose said, assuring me she didn’t think I was gay.

“You can never be too sure,” I said, immediately wondering why it appeared I was insisting she question my sexuality. “But really, I’m not gay, just to clarify.”

“I know,” she said, still with the smile she had had when first seeing me. “So why aren’t you dressed up?”

“Oh, but I am. I’m…” Oh crap, I had set up a joke without knowing what the punch line was going to be. I couldn’t go with the cliché ‘guy not wearing a costume’ is my costume, that’s too cliché. I started to panic. “I’m guy who may or may not be gay?” I said, not being able to get away from the whole gay thing for some reason.

“You know if you keep bringing that up people are going to start wondering about you.”

“Let them wonder. I’m secure with my sexuality.”

“So you’re happy being gay?”

“Completely,” I said defiantly, and walking right into her trap. She started laughing and I realized why. “You know it wouldn’t have been a bad idea to dress up as a rose because you’ve certainly got thorns,” I said trying to be witty.

She gave me a telling smile I couldn’t figure out the meaning to and was about to say something but was preempted.

“Hey Rose, come here a second, I want to show you something,” said the slutty cheerleader who I had encountered in the bathroom earlier that night, and who was apparently Rose’s friend.

“Sorry,” Rose begun, “my friend has been dying to show me something tonight. But you stay put and I’ll be back soon. I promise.”

I nodded my head and stayed put. In the first ten minutes it was pretty boring. People walked past me but nothing interesting happened. Then Frodo appeared. He handed me a drink so I drank. I told him about the quote I found in the Bible, John 8:31. He told me about two decently attractive drunk girls a few guys had paid to make out. We both turned out to be as equally uninterested in what each other had to say. Then Hercules found us and I told him about the quote. And then he told me some philosophical crap about truth being relative that I didn’t listen to because I was too busy wondering when Rose was coming back. Then they said I was boring so they were going to go look around the house for fun people. I wasn’t offended. I just stood and waited some more. Twice a scantily clad girl called me a loser for not dressing up. Twice I agreed with her. I got to see more of Luke and Leia making out. For a short while the TV was on ESPN and since it was a Saturday I got to see college football highlights. But later someone changed the channel and I got to watch the last third of The 40 Year Old Virgin on mute. It turns out the movie isn’t that great with no sound. And in what must have been the highlight of my time waiting there, I got to bear witness to a heavyset fellow wearing a Richard Milhous Nixon mask run bare naked through the house. The man had no shame, nor should he have.

I didn’t think she was going to return, but she did. She walked back into the room and she saw me seeing her seeing me standing in the exact spot she had told me to stay. She slowly walked over to me. She seemed a little drunk, at the least.

“Have you been standing in that same spot the whole time since I left?” Rose said in a way that assured me she was drunk.

“No,” I lied, “There was a brief period where I stepped over to that house plant and took a piss.” For some reason knowing she was drunk calmed me down. Also I was buzzed so I wasn’t worried as much about saying something stupid.

“I’m sorry that took so long.”

“I didn’t even notice,” I lied again. “Oh my God, I’m becoming a liar,” I said more to myself than her.

“I know it was a long time. Rachel wanted to show me to her cousin. She thought I might like him.”

How dare that whore Rachel! “Oh how sweet of Rachel. And did you like him?” I asked thinking if she said yes I would have to find something sharp to impale myself on.

“He was hot,” Rose said nonchalant.

“Hmm, I bet if I break that mirror one of the shards could do the trick.”

“What?”

“Nothing. Tell me more about him,” I said not caring to know anything more about him unless he was a eunuch.

“Well he’s hot, but he’s not as smart as you.”

As me? She’s comparing him to me. That could be a good thing? Wait, that could be a terrible thing? Comparison might show all my flaws? But she just said I was smarter than him, that’s good. But she said he’s hot, and she didn’t say anything about my hotness, that’s bad. Focus on the good you fool! You can’t win ‘em all. But I should be able to. I want her to love me. Why though?

Those were my thoughts in that moment. And that’s when I thought I realized everything that night, John 8:32, the framed quote, Jesus made of puke, everything.

“I came here for you, not him,” Rose said. “I want you Teddy.” She leaned in to kiss me. Her lips looked so, well for lack of a better phrase, kissable.

Jesus H. Chris wasn’t in the toilet. Or at least now I’m convinced he wasn’t. My mind just wanted me to think he was. It was a start to a convoluted realization that should have came easier. Had I just seen vomit in the toilet instead of Jesus Christ I wouldn’t have thought anything of the framed Bible quote when I saw it. The quote made me think there must be a meaning to tonight. And there was, but I shouldn’t have needed a framed quote to tell me so. I can’t really explain the John 8:32 thing. I don’t know why the guy in the Barack Obama mask was named John, and I’m not sure why he mistakenly said the time was Eight thirty-two which led me to a Bible quote about truth, but it happened. And somehow it worked. At least I thought so.

“I can’t kiss you,” I said wondering if it was the dumbest thing I have ever said in my young life.

“What?” Rose said with one of those cute little smiles she has showing. “Why?”

“I don’t love you.”

“What does love have to do with this?”

“I’m not sure, but I don’t love you, and I’m not sure if I ever could, but I want you to love me, and that’s wrong of me.”

“Why are you talking about love? It’s just a kiss. It doesn’t mean much.”

“Not to me. Gertrude Stein was wrong when she said a kiss is a kiss is a kiss.” Rose gave me a funny look. There’s a more than likely chance it was because it’s supposed to be Rose is a rose is a rose is a rose. I find it funny I couldn’t remember it was rose and not kiss. Curse me for trying to sound smart. “To me a kiss would be leading you on possibly to something I don’t want. I can’t do that.”

“So what are you saying?”

“I’m saying I need time to think.”

“Think about what?”

“Us,” I said thinking it was obvious. “I’m not sure how I feel about you.”

“Well take all the time in the world,” Rose said, perhaps with a tear in her eye. She walked out of the room with a quick pace.

“I’m an idiot.” The five other people in the room seemed oblivious to what I had just said and to what had just happened, but I’m sure they would have agreed with me. I immediately regretted my decision. What if I was wrong? I’m usually wrong. Maybe I did make up this whole religious wild goose chase to get to the truth, but maybe I was wrong about the truth? Yes, I did want her to love me, but maybe it wasn’t because I was being selfish, but instead because I loved her and wanted her to feel the same way? Is that being selfish? Do I love her? I don’t know.

I should have chased after her. I should have caught her and kissed her with all the passion in the Heavens and Hell. I didn’t. I felt sick. I ran to the bathroom instead of her. I release my regrets into the toilet. I didn’t see Jesus this time. Just meaningless puke.

crappy dialogue exercise for my community college class

“I hate pissing at a urinal,” Tom said as he unzipped his pants.

“Really,” Larry said while standing at the urinal next to Tom. “I find it spectacularly exciting compared to the mundane experience of peeing at home.”

“They’re too high. I almost have to aim up just to make it in the hole.”

“I would guess they’re made with the average man’s height in mind.”

“They should be lower. You tall bastards have to aim down when you’re pissing anyway. What’s a few more inches going to do?”

“You could always pee in the little kid’s urinal.” Larry nodded his head towards the urinal to his left.

“I’m not pissing in no urinal for some kid. I’m a man damn it. And I’ll piss in a man’s urinal.”

“Of course you are.”

“Did you just sneak a peak?” Tom said.

“What?”

“Did you just check out my junk?

“No,” Larry said confused.

“You just looked at me.”

“I was making eye contact. I was trying to be polite. When you’re having a conversation it’s polite to make eye contact. It shows the person talking that you’re listening.”

“That’s all fine and dandy in the real world but this is the bathroom.”

“The bathroom isn’t the real world?”

“No,” Tom said, “the bathroom has different rules than the rest of the world. No eye contact. None. Never.”

“Okay,” Larry said as he made a broad display while averting his eyes to the ceiling.

“It’s not fair you know?”

“What’s not fair?”

“This separator thing that separates the urinals,” Tom said.

“The Partition,” Larry said still staring at the ceiling.

“Whatever,” Tom said. “You’re tall so you can see over it. I’m short so I can’t.”

“Why would I want to look over it?”

“Maybe you’re insecure?”

“Maybe,” Larry said. “Probably not, but maybe?”

“Well I’m not insecure. I’m very secure. My skin is a security blanket. It keeps me secure. I’ve got nothing to feel insecure about.”

“I never said you did.”

“You implied it with your tone.”

“What tone? I didn’t use any specific tone.”

“You had a tone.” Tom zipped up his pants. “My ear is like a tuning fork. You can’t hide your tone from me.” Tom walked away from the urinal trying to sneak a peak at Larry as he passed by.

“You didn’t flush,” Larry said.

“Germs!” Tom said as he walked out the door exiting the bathroom.

No Title #1

In my inability to write anything good I am going to list the 25 hottest celebrities under 25 that somebody else came up with and give my short feelings on them.

Miley Cyrus – I don’t mean to be mean, but I have the feeling she’s going to turn into one of those Hollywood sluts. And I am totally looking forward to it.

Megan Fox – I don’t know, I think me and her would get along, but not at all in a sexual sense.

Mia Wasikowska – Who?

Robert Pattinson – I hate this good looking bastard. I can only prey he has a small penis. But with my luck he’s got a huge penis (yeah, because the size of his penis effects you somehow) I’d feel good if it was small.

Scralett Johansson – I love her far too much. She’s still under 25 though? Stupid Ryan Reynolds and his stupid having extremely hot sex with her.

Daniel Radcliffe – I hate those Harry Potter movies (even though you’ve never watched any of them) I can tell from the trailers.

Gemma Arterton – I like the name Gemma. But after looking at her pictures I can’t tell if I’m attracted to her or not. My penis says yes but my balls don’t say anything at all because they don’t have a mouth like my penis does.

Freida Pinto – I’m not as attracted to this Slumdog chick as everybody else seems to be (he’s saying Slumdog because she was in Slumdog Millionaire, not because he’s being racist) right, that’s why I said it.

Vanessa Hudgens – Those nude pictures of her weren’t that great. Not that I looked at them of course.

Dakota Fanning – Gotta love the name Fanning. I’m more looking forward to her younger sister though, South Dakota Fanning… ha ha ha, lol, lmao, oh God am I funny! But seriously, I see big things for her little sister Elle Fanning. I love that name. If she was 18 I’d masturbate to the sound of that name.

Shia LaBeouf – I have no thoughts on Shia except that he’s too rich for how young he is. I don’t like it one bit. But I do envy it.

Saoirse Ronan – I do like those young Brits. But at the moment she’s too young so I’m going to have to wait to give my opinion of her.

Kristen Stewart – I am almost in love with Kristen Stewart. She could have had me too. She really could’ve, but no, she chose to hook up with my arch rival Robert Pattinson. Her lost. We could have had something special Kristen.

Ellen Page – She remains me of a boy. I’m ashamed to admit I kind of like that.

Bobbe’J. Thompson – He’s the little Black kid from the movie Role Models. I see big things for this kid. I by that I mean his penis, it’s going to be huge, because he’s Black, and rumor has it Black guys have big penis’s which is why I wish I were black, but I’ve said too much.

Michael Cera – He can suck my little white penis if he doesn’t want to do the Arrested Development movie. But other than that I loved him in the TV series Arrested Development, so he’ll always have a place in my heart.

Keira Knightley – A little bit skinny.

Dev Patel – I think this Slumdog star could have a bright future if she plays her cards right, which she won’t. (He’s a guy) with a name like Dev. I don’t think so.

Emile Hirsch – He’s one of those guys who only does good movies, except he sullied that forever by staring in Speed Racer.

Chace Crawford – Trishelle will not stop talking about him. It does kind of annoy the crap out of me. I really hate good looking people.

Taylor Lautner – Trishelle won’t shut up about him either. I really hate anybody who has been in those Twilight movies.

Emma Watson – Perhaps my fav.

Amanda Seyfried – She had big boobs in Mean Girls but then her boobs got smaller in that Abba movie. Her career seems to be going well and for some reason I’m glad.

Carey Mulligan – Interesting.

Zac Efron – Ugh. This list was just a bunch of hot guys I’m envious of and girls I’ll never get to be with which makes me mad even though I don’t want to get with most of them anyway but I’d still like to have the option.