True story: I just dropped my ipod on the floor three times in a span of ten seconds trying to figure out how to lie down comfortably on the edge of my bed. I’ve dropped this bad boy a bunch, but luckily unlike my friend Chris I have not ever dropped it in the toilet. Luckily for him his mp3 player still works, with the caveat of not being able to turn it on or off. I’m not exactly sure how that works out for him, but it’s not too terrible because he’s still able to use it….when not trying to sell it to his friends at discount prices.
I’m surprised I haven’t dropped my ipod in the toilet yet because almost every single time I take a dump, which to me sounds more unpleasant than saying pooping or shitting, I take my ipod with me. Little known fact: I usually don’t make it through one song before I’ve completed my mission, as I refer to dumping as. Of course part of my mission doesn’t include washing my hands. That’s not to say I don’t wash my hands, I just like to include it separately as a post mission task to make it feel special.
“Oh sweet chemical predicament. Can’t stop, can’t hide the evident. Predisposed to forget the best part, a story where the hero dies without regard.”
My mind isn’t working right at the moment so I can’t really think of what to write about the song so I’m just going to write about how my mind isn’t working until my mind warms up and starts to work, and once it does you can rest assure that all of this gibberish will be edited out, except for the fact that you’re clearly reading it right now meaning it wasn’t edited out and actually I never once intended to edit out a single word of this, however I did misspell gibberish so I had to correct that, but I maintain that it should start with a j because that’s how it’s said, unless all these years I should have been pronouncing it with a g sound. Oh God, have I been mispronouncing gibberish all these years? I’m so embarrassed. Actually I can’t really recall a time I ever really used the word gibberish, but the few times I have you can be certain I said jibberish.
“Oh sweet divine predicament. Can’t hide, I can’t chance the evident. I’m predisposed to trust a photograph, to portray the way you used to laugh.”
Kind of sad when you get to that point in life where a memory is so old you have to use photographs to help your memory recall things. Sometimes I think vision is the greatest of the senses, but perhaps unfairly so. I would say in most cases vision is the first used sense, and because of that it starts making these impulse guesses of how other senses are going to interpret the thing the person is viewing, which very well could change how the senses works, for better or worse. So when I look at a plate of food that looks like a pile of shit I assume it’s going to smell like shit, but perhaps when I smell it it actually smells a lot better than shit. But is that the case only because I had set the expectation of its smell so low? No, it’s probably not that way at all. What made me say that vision is the greatest is because whenever I look at a picture of some girl I used to love I always get these strong emotions that I don’t have when I’m just thinking about some girl I used to love. But maybe that’s just because I like looking at boobies? I don’t know. I feel this paragraph was a waste of space.
“Sweet chemical indifference. I can’t stop, can’t change the evident. Predisposed to perpetual sickness, I refuse to let you all be witness.”
I really like the way that line sounds in the song, however I’m super tired and super lazy at the moment so I don’t really want to write about it. I’d prefer just to lie here and slowly die for the night, because after all isn’t that what sleeping basically is, just dying for the night? (No, scientifically that is not at all what sleeping is.) Good night to the few of you that are reading this. I have the feeling that you aren’t going to sleep yet, but I still want you to know that shortly after writing this sentence I fell asleep, with my feet spread apart on a big pink doggie food holder bin filled with cat food, my headphones blazing far too unpopular music far too loudly on my far too deaf ears, and one hand down my pants and the other waving down a taxi as I’m dreaming about being in that horrible Jimmy Fallon and Queen Latifah movie, I believe it was called Taxi.
Post note: I actually didn’t fall asleep after writing that. I stayed up far too late, but I’m not too certain what I did. Is it bad if I can’t remember what I did less than 24 hours ago? Most certainly masturbating was involved, but I can’t be certain of that, can I?