I'll Get Back To It Later

(As I'm going through my posts, I'm finding a few unfinished drafts of posts, most of which make little to no sense. This is one of them.)


The Police Police

"Yeah, I know you're the police. But I’m the police police. That’s going to cost you 5 marshmallows. What’s that? Don’t have 5 marshmallows? Okay. $200. Plus another $100 for not having any marshmallows."

"Don't like it? Fine. Take it to Court Court."

I Am the World's Most Healthiest Man

Study: Napping Regularly Fights Heart Disease

My favorite quote: "Taking a nap could turn out to be an important weapon in the fight against coronary mortality."

Yes. And I will be your General.

The only better scientific news today would be a study titled, "The New Weapon Against Cancer: Potato Chips" with a full-page, color graph correlating the effectiveness of the potato chips' cancer fighting ability with the amount of artificial bacon flavoring on the chip.

I love it when science supports my lazy lifestyle. We all welcome scientific evidence that effectively says, "Keep doing what you've been doing", but think about how much more welcome that evidence is for lazy people. I and other members of the lazy community aren't going to change our eating, sleeping, or exercise habits, no matter how much longer the changes would let us live. We're lazy. That's what we do. Well, don't do.

Our only hope to reach a healthier lifestyle is to have scientists ("Glory be to them!") is to redefine the slothful behavior that we've been practicing for most of our lives.

I don't want to end this post with something along the lines of, "I'd write more, but I'd have to take a nap." It is so predictable that it approaches cliche, and I've overused it already. The thing is, I really am going to take a nap, and that really is why I'm not going to write more. Truth is a bitch when it doesn't sound plausible.

That will be the subject of one of my next posts.

Waking Up

My sleeping pattern, by most definitions, is irregular. It developed that way years ago after I got laid off from a full-time job and fell apart without the daily structure.

I’ve become more aware of the oddity of my sleep habits after living with my roommate, Meghan, for a few months. I find her schedule absolutely loony. She’ll wake up 5:30 A.M., paint for an hour or two, bicycle to work, get home in the evening, and be in bed by 10:00 P.M.

I know this because once I heard her go into the bathroom to take a shower at 5:30 A.M. I remember being annoyed because I was about to brush my teeth and go to bed.

We talk about our inverse sleeping habits occasionally. Once, she told me she heard my alarm go off at 8:30.

"8:30?" I thought. "Why was I waking up so early? I'm not a farmer."

She saw I was confused. "8:30 p.m., Jason"

"Ohhhhh...."

I tell you all this to give you the proper context for what I am about to say: I woke up so late today I was angry at myself.

Even when I turn off my alarm clock and sleep in, my not-quite-natural biological clock will wake me around noon. Today, that time was 5:15 P.M.

I felt a mix of shock and confusion that Rip Van Winkle must have felt when he stretched his arms, sat up, and experienced what few humans in the world have: his beard tickling his penis.

Sign #1 you slept for too long: you go into denial when you looked at your alarm clock.

I checked my cell phone clock for confirmation. I still wasn’t convinced, so I frantically shoved the blinds away from the window. A faint orange glow was in the horizon, the beams of light fading unto dark blue and then darkness.

Wow. Over 13 hours. Seven hours left in the day, if that. Time to eat brunchnner, do four loads of laundry in half-an-hour, clean my room in five minutes, and then construct a time machine so I can go back in time and slap myself today at 11:00 A.M.

What went on for the next few hours was a kind of reverse "bullet time" where I was infused with a fervent energy and able to do three times what I can normally do in an hour. I did the same amount of work in three hours today than I did for most of yesterday.

I'm finally settling down and returning to more lethargic normalcy. I'm still trying to get a whirlwind of tasks done, but what’s sad is that I'm already starting to feel tired again. Maybe it's having sit down and working on the computer instead of running around, but I could honestly go back to bed now.

If I hadn't slept for so long, I probably would have. I have almost no resistance to naps. Naps are like crack for me, aside from the fact that they have the exact opposite effect of crack. I’ve said this to myself many times before, and I sadly suspect I will again: I really need to do something between naps and crack. Like watch a movie while doing push-ups, or meditate as I play Hungry Hungry Hippos.

If you see another half-dozen posts by the end of today, you'll know I'm still being active. Otherwise, I'll write a half-dozen when I wake up...tomorrow?

I Got Me In'Net!

The DSL service was activated earlier than I expected. Remember when I said in my last post how it was nice to be without Internet access? I lied. That was just to trick the Access Gods. IT WAS HORRIBLE. I spent hours each day, staring at a blank monitor, clicking my mouse like a puppy locked outside a house and pawing a frost-covered window.

The experience did give me valuable insight, thought, that will come in handy if I ever decide to live like a half-naked barbarian.

I missed you SO much Internet. This was the first time in years we were away from each other for more than a week. It was a difficult time. I admit, at times, I thought about having a fling with a trampy dial-up connection. Just for a day or two. But I held strong, and can still make up and respect myself when I look in the mirror. Which I won't be doing much of now, along with shopping, visiting art galleries, or frankly, leaving the house at all.

We have a lot of catching up to do, but once we're done reconnecting, I'll be back to my regular schedule of posting twice a month.

Where Are The Posts?

Where ARE the posts?

Good question. I don't know. I've been looking in every nook of my brain, but every time I find a chocolate-chip cookie and get distracted.

Honestly, don't expect anything substantial for the next few days, although I expect to have some time over the weekend to come up with at least a few entries.

Post Schedule

In a way, it's odd to declare how many posts I'm going to write in the next day. Isn't the point of being an unpaid writer to write whatever, and whenever one wants? But it's the only way nowadays that motivates me to write, so...

I will be writing on days this week whose names are Greek or Norse in origin. I will NOT write a post on any day with a connection to a Roman god, and I NEVER WILL. Sorry Saturn, but Pancake City is taking the weekend off. Also, because I know nothing about Greek, Norse, or Roman mythology, except that Saturn fact I just looked up on Google, I will write a post every day from Tuesday to Friday, which may coincidentally fit the criteria mentioned above. if ti does, it is because I am a genius and I planned it that way.

Back to the Future

This is a placeholder for an upcoming post. I know it's a little silly, but it will help motivate me to write it when I get home today.

You Know, I Do Work During the Day

Okay, part of the day. But if you think I'm going to wake up before 10:00 A.M. just to write a blog entry, you're crazier than my employer who expects me to be at work by 10:00 A.M. And my employer is the Federation Moon Patrol, president: Capt. Crazy Pants. EASTERN STANDARD TIME DOESN'T EXIST IN SPACE! AND STOP PUTTING YOUR MOON PANTS ON YOUR HEAD.

I got a postcard today for "The Largest and Most Exciting Stamp Show in the World." Raise the roof, United States Postal Service. On the postcard are pictures of two stamps: "Tallest Geyser" with a gushing geyser, and "Most Active Volcano". an exploding volcano. Okay, okay, we get it! Why don't you add an image of a train going through a tunnel while you're at it? Pervs.

Show highlights on the back:

* See the world's most valuable stamps and watch as 80 new postage stamps are issued! You could have had me at 20 new postage stamps. But thanks for the gravy.

* Meet Ranger Rick, Postman Pat. Mr. ZIP, and other SURPRISE guests. (Who? Who? Who? Let me guess: Lenny Letter and Alan Thicke.)

This is the first mail I've gotten from the postal service in months. Which is weird, because it's free for them. Well, free like how printing paper from the office supply closet is free. But free enough. If I could send free mail, I'd send a letter every day. I wouldn't even address the letter. I'd just send it to everyone. It'll get to the right person eventually. Everyone else can throw it away.

I'd send anonymous letters to complete strangers, just to confuse them.

"Thanks for the tea bag! As promised, here it is. -- Larry."

"Dogs love you. Except dogs named Ronaldo. Grrrr."

"WHY DID YOU OPEN ME!!! I was having the most wonderful dream."

Well, it's 4:30 p.m. Time for my first nap.

Okay, I'm committing myself....

At least one non-link post every day for the rest of the week.

Posts are Coming!

I have 3 or 4 half-written posts that I haven't had time to finish yet. I know often many of my posts are indistinguishable from a drunk monkey typing at a stenographer's keyboard and drinking bourbon out of a Mr. Bobo-brand metal flask. That is obviously a false impression to have. The monkey can type faster, and BANANA ME NEED GO GO.

But I'll finish one of them when I get home today. I was digging through my old files, trying to find something I wrote a few years ago that I could post. It took me twenty minutes, about how much time I would need to write up one of the ideas that I have. The result? A whole paragraph, which I probably already posted:

Anti-depressants would be a lot more effective if they gave you superpowers. Like heat vision. People who can shoot lasers out of their eyes don'’t feel worthless. Superman has the weight of the world on his shoulders, but you never see him taking Prozac. Of course, his therapist accuses him of flying away from his problems.

THERAPIST: "You can't blow away your problems, Superman. Eventually, they'll thaw, and still be there, the same as when you froze them."
SUPERMAN: "So you're saying I should skip the freeze breath and just blast everything with my heat vision?"
THERAPIST: "No. I'm saying--"
SUPERMAN: "Throw them into outer space?"
THERAPIST: "Hold on. Just listen on me."
SUPERMAN: "I'm listening."
THERAPIST: "What I'm saying--"
SUPERMAN: "Hold on. I'm listening to the sex therapist two floors below us."

Blog, I Missed You!

I lost track of how long it has been since I updated the blog. The hard part is starting to write. Writing for me is pretty enjoyable after the first few minutes.

News Headlines

Bin Laden vows he won't be caught alive - tape
Apparently, he won’t be caught on video without makeup either.

Federline says he's ready for rapper backlash
Oh, no you’re not. Comedians haven’t been this excited since Vanilla Ice tried to do something besides "Ice, Ice, Baby".

Bin Laden vows he won't be caught listening to Federline’s CD
See?

Planet's Population to Hit 6.5 Billion Saturday
Keep on screwing, people. We have a deadline to meet.

Bush Outlines 'Forward Strategy for Freedom'
Anyone see the problem in that he felt it necessary to include 'forward"? For most presidents, it kind of comes with the word "strategy". They used to be buddies.

Be Back in a Week

I wish I could say I'm off on an exciting trip, but the truth is more mundane. My creative energies are being sucked up by a script I'm working on for a local cable access show. The result is that I've been feeling guilty about neglecting the blog, but not guilty enough to post more than a few times a week. So I'm taking a break. I'll get back to posting next Monday.

GRQ Update

I spent several minutes searching the Internet today for easy ways to make money, and found nothing. Would a more exhaustive search turn up something? Perhaps. But I'm not looking for a "Get Rich By Spending Hours Hunting for Information Buried on the Web" scheme. I want by riches quick, the way I deserve my riches.

In fact, as far as I can tell, the only way to get rich quick is through online gambling. So that's where I'll start for the first few weeks.

I like online gambling because it's fun, easy, and requires little knowledge. All you need is luck, and as a professional dog walker living with two roommates and scraping to get by every month, I have plenty of it.

I started off my professional gambling career with a few small bets on the first World Series game and a bet on the Chicago-Tampa Bay football game tomorrow.

I bet $10 that the Red Sox would score the first three runs (they did) and $2 on an 8:1 bet that they would win by exactly 4 runs (they didn't). I also bet $10 that Chicago and Tampa would score less than 32 points combined. My reasoning is that both of these teams played the Redskins and are now shitty by association.

My goal is to win $100-$200 a month betting on sports I barely watch and know little about. Again, my aim is not merely just to make money. It is to make money with the absolute minimum of effort, skill, and knowledge. When I do something, I do it right. And by right, I mean doing everything wrong.

Get Quick Rich Schemes

Get Quick Rich schemes are an evil combination of greed and laziness. In spite of my exemplary laziness, I've stayed away from them not because of the likely possibility I'll lose much more money than I started with, but because I'm content with driving a dented car, wearing faded slacks, and a TV that doesn't get clear reception of Channel 4 when there is too much electromagnetic interference around, such as people wearing socks.

But the austere lifestyle has slowly shifted from frugal to restrictive, and I'd like to go into a restaurant and not worry about ordering a Coke over a water because of the extra $1.59. Scratch that. I'm fine with water. I'd just like to be able to eat at a restaurant without thinking: "I just spent my share of the cable bill."

The solution is obvious for any enterprising individual: either get a second job, hunt for freelance work, or find a full-time job that pays better than dog walking.

Then there's my solution: Get Rich Quick schemes.

Online betting. Ponzi schemes. Ebay selling. I'm going to try it all.

My gut tells me this is one of the worst ideas in my life. My brain is telling me that too, and I'm sure my family and my friends, all reasonable people, will concur.

But hey. It's my right to live my life as stupidly as possible. And, considering my incredible laziness, there really is no other option. If you think I'm going to spend 15 minutes on a job application when I can spend 30 minutes browsing the web for free offers, you're crazy.

Plus, if I fail, it will at least be entertaining to read about.

Good Morning!

I woke up at 6:00 a.m. to walk a dog. Even with four hours of sleep, I feel energetic. There is something invigorating about hearing the caws of crows echo across the land as the sun warms the underbellies of dark clouds and turns them into a bright orange. Life has given me so much energy now. I feel I can do anything in the world, anything that I--

Zzzz...

(Like you didn't see that coming. I'm taking a nap. I like my cloud underbellies bright white and pre-heated. See you at 1:00 p.m.)

Later Today...

Kerry Speech Highlights. I'll write it when I get back from work.

I just realized it's been a week between posts. Wow. I suck.

About the lack of comedy recently

Perhaps if I publicly declare I will write something humorous soon, the shame of reneging on my pledge will motivate me to write.

I will write something humorous soon.

Monkey balls cock.

There you go.

Bathroom Poll

I've been meaning to write, or do something productive, for the past week. Meaning, of course, means nothing. That's why, starting now, I will no longer "mean" to write anything. I will intend to write.

I'm intending to write more, but in the meantime, take a moment to answer this poll. "Do you lock the bathroom door at home? If so, why?" The reason I ask to come.

First Lines

I love writing sentences, paragraphs, and short essays, but the process of writing a short story or novel seems overwhelming. I have yet to develop the skill of breaking projects into manageable pieces. But that changes today.

I am going to write a story, a few sentences a day, starting today. I will continue this process for as many years as it takes me to finish the project, or until Thursday, when I get bored of it.

"His hands were as hard as ice and his heart as cold as a man who eats babies for breakfast with a side of wet puppy noses. Scrambled. No salt."

Please ignore the post about me writing more often

I'm leaving town for a few days. It's too bad, because I have a REALLY funny story to write about. But I don't have time to write it now. Yup, no time at all. Absolutely no time. Can't waste a minute. Every second counts. Well, actually, every third second counts, plus seconds divisible by 15, but that's so complicated that I tell most people every second counts and they get the jist. Is it gist or jist? When a porn company has an unresolvable argument and splits into two, is it a jism or a schism?

Gotta go!