Friday, August 29, 2014
I was holding a cotton ball that day. Yes me! It was just that kind of day I guess. I mean like I'm not bragging, I'm not, but yeah, it happened to me, I was holding a cotton ball! Hell Yeah!
Well ok, so obviously I'm bragging at least a little, but that's the point, I didn't plan to hold a cotton ball, I'd never even dreamed about it frankly, and yeah, I'll admit it, I didn't even earn it, it was pure dumb luck. And it happened to me, wow.
I had planned on spending the day at the gym, one of my classic 32 hour sessions, I'm sure you know about them, they're my claim to fame- I'm sure you've heard about me on the news, or read about me in the papers - 'this man is an anonomly, he can spend 32 hours in the gym in one day, without burning a single calorie, or talking to another person, or smiling - quite a skill' the reporters say.
My claim to fame, ha ha, that WAS my claim to fame, but now I've got this whole cotton ball deal too! Wow, people will be talking about this for years! Months even! About ME! Hell Yeah! Cause I held a cotton ball, yippee!!
Wait, wait did I say 'cotton ball'? Oh fuck, I meant 'baby kitten that I rescued from a burning sky scrapper, that I had to reach by running up 127 flights of stairs, before fashioning a parashoot out of my t-shirt, three straws from the break room, and a six year old congealed bottle of white out, before risking my life by letting the kitten wear the only harness as I held on to the t-shirts sport team logo, and we floated to the earth, where I took the brunt of the fall, letting the kitten survive unharmed while it tried to lick my two severely broken legs better' - whoops, I said 'cotton ball', that's a Freudian slip if there ever was one.
And did I say 'held'? Dang, sorry, I meant 'lit a fire in a sky scrapper and then called the media'. Slip of the tongue I guess.
I mean I'm sick of my claim to fame being that gym thing, they always focus on the fact I don't do anything there and ignore the fact I somehow defy science and fit 32 hours into one day!
The lesson is, you can't trust everything you hear on the news, try blogs, that's where the truth is :)
Wednesday, August 27, 2014
Here's what I think I'd think about if I ever found myself accidentally destroying a huge international city, like what I'd be thinking about during the destruction, and well, near the end of it it mostly, like only after it was clear that the whole damn city was destroyed. By accident of course. And I mean like a proper international city, not like a small city that thinks of itself as an international city, just cause like they have a Shakespeare in the park troupe, and like the world's third tallest fountain, and like has Asian restaurants from places in Asia other than Thailand, Japan and China. I'm talking like a real international city, with like a Chekov in the Park troupe, and the third tallest of something way cooler than a fountain, like a water tower, and Asian restaurants from places in Asia that are technically Asian, but then are they really? Like Mongolian, Nepalese, and Ethiopian. You know - a REAL international city, a proper, sophisticated and prosperous one. And I'm nearly finished destroying it, the whole damn thing, like really fucking it all up, by accident of course. Oh man, I think I'd probably be overwhelmed with thoughts, oh my, thoughts like:
- And um..
Wait, yeah, nah, that'd be about it. I mean I said it was an accident.
Monday, August 25, 2014
This is a blog called the excellence of hammers, and the topic of this blog is about how hammers are excellent.
Here's the thing about hammers, I'm a man, but I'm not a manly man, I can't do anything manly, like fix a car, cut down a tree, or make it through an episode of the Big Bang Theory without crying. But the thing about hammers is they are have excellence.
I mean I've never really used a hammer at least not successfully, at least not in the make a nail go in straight sense, if that's how success is judged, although I did listen to NWA's 'straight out of Compton' a few times 25 odd years ago, so I get what the word 'straight' means, just not with nails.
Not that I listen to manly music often, not that I can do anything manly really, like wash a car, climb a tree or hold a cotton ball without crying.
But you know, it's like, the thing with hammers is, despite my inability to use them, at least not in the make a nail go in straight sense, is that they're really in possession of excellence.
Not that I've ever possessed one, like I've owned a few over the years, I think, I mean I believe there is one in the tool draw I have at home that I havnt looked in for 5 years, and I don't think I ever bought one, but I think I acquired one one day somehow, like maybe someone was over at my house and hammering some dinner together or something, and left it. I have a plate that came my way with similar serendipity, and I keep stuff like that, because like, with the plate - I might want to put something on a plate, food maybe. Or with the hammer, maybe I might need to use it if say if one of the nails holding my walls up fell out, or if one of the nails that holds my stereo together fell out, or like if one of the nails that keeps my toilet flushing fell out, I wouldn't hammer it back in myself, I'd hire a mechanic to fix it, I assume, but I think I do own my own hammer, and if I do it's in that draw.
Not that I don't know anything about mechanics, I once saw an episode of the TV show 'Frasier' where the lead character, um, I think his name was Frasier? And his brother, I think his name was Woody, and they don't know anything about mechanics, so they take a class in mechanics, and I saw that episode, so I do know basically what it would be like to go to one of those courses in mechanics - pretty freakishly manly by the look of things.
Not that I can do anything manly, like knowing definitely what's in my draws, or how to climb a car, or how to drive a tree, or think of a butterfly without crying. But the thing with hammers is they're haunted with excellence.
Not that haunted is a particularly accurate choice of words there, but I did one time have someone tap me on my left shoulder, but like they were actually standing on my right, so I do know what it's like to be haunted, and it's kind of like the same relationship hammers have with excellence.
Wait, hammers are those like hammering tools right? Yep? Sweet, yeah, they're excellent, and manly!
And that, my friends, is the excellence of hammers.
Saturday, August 23, 2014
Oh, mmmm, sorry, I was about to write a blog about the excellence of hammers, but I'm distracted, I'm just in my head at the moment, you see I was just thinking about the last time I was nostalgic. Mmmmmm... Nostalgia.
Oh it was sweet. And I mean that not in a slangy 'that party was SWEET man' way, but sweet like a little kitten meowing to let you know that he's happy you're holding him way. Awww. It was so cute. One of the best moments of nostalgia experiencing I can remember. I'll be remembering this moment of reflection for a long time I think.
This was about 8 minutes ago, I was walking down the street, it's an unseasonably warm day here where I am, but, seemingly sent simply to nullify my sweaty brow, a cool zephyr of breeze gently washed over me, my hair was tickled back over my ears, an old lady coughed to my left, and I was stuffing my headphones into my, newly dangerously holed, pocket, having just completed the listening of a podcast, when it happened, I was struck with a nearly DéjàVu level of epic, solid, generous and delicious nostalgia.
A wonderful memory, unprompted by anything but the power of the overwhelming combinations of the various stimuli poking at my senses and emotions magically conjured an image into my mind. Sweet, sweet nostalgia.
Suddenly I wasn't in the current moment anymore, but in a different beautiful moment from my past, a since forgotten moment, thrust back into the forefront of my mind movie, unexpectantly, but very much welcomely.
To be specific, the moment from my past that was driven into my present took place about two minutes before this current moment, when I was walking in this exact same spot, however in the opposite direction, before I realized I was going the wrong way, and yet still deep within the dying moments of what had already established itself to be an enjoyable walk while listening to a podcast. Mmmm... nostalgia.
Here I was in the same spot, a mere two minutes apart, but such different experiences, one south east, one north west, one listening to a podcast, one listening to an old lady cough, one in the moment, and one in the beautiful magic of nostalgia.
It was the best time remembering a memory of remembering something I can ever remember. It fact I will never forget it, it will stay within my soul, guiding me, and comforting me, for from now on, if I'm lonely or bored I'll be able to stop and cozily think 'I remember the last time I was nostalgic' - Mmmm... Nostalgia :)
Oh and then the old lady got abducted by a giant space ship that was shaped like a crying Frank Sinatra head, I'd have told you about that first, but I don't know, it just wasn't really memorable.
Tuesday, August 19, 2014
The other passengers didn't know what to do. They were dumbstruck, shocked and overwhelmed, with a desire to not in anyway insert themselves into the unexpected circumstances they'd found themselves amongst. In anyway thankyou very much.
But they weren't just dumbstruck though, oh no, but deafstruck, blindstruck, awestruck, and even numbstruck, it was I fuck load of striking, there have been aggressive Trade Unions that haven't struck this much before, there have been strikingly elegant fashion models that haven't struck this much, I mean there was once a pro wrestler named 'The Striker' who could only dream of strucking this much.
And they weren't just shocked, hell no, but they were shockingly shocked, they were shocked with how shockingly shocked they were, they were shocked until they shook with shock, they shook like shaking after shock shook affected salt shakers after the shock of being shaken by an after shock that itself only shook post an original even more intense shake that was shakingly shocking.
Also they weren't just overwhelmed, fucking of course not, but they were whelmed with how overwhelmed they were, they were endingwhelmed, abovewhelmed, and even finishwelmed with how welmingly overwhelmed they were. There have been welm merchants from Venice with less ability to overwhelm, there have been waining warriors wondering where their next whelm will wander in from who could only dream of being as welmingly overwhelmed as this.
That is, of course, with a desire to not in anyway insert themselves into the unexpected circumstances they'd found themselves in. These other passengers didn't know what the fuck was going on and they didn't want any part of it.
We were all on the same ferry, but the other passengers just couldn't believe what I'd just done. Yep, I did it, and I'll admit it. I said 'the water looked nice'.
It was dumbstrikingly, overwhelmingly shocking.
Being the worlds foremost celebrity dedicated to the highly beloved art-form of water niceness denying sure can be tough some days :(
Wednesday, August 13, 2014
I find that everytime I have a wrench in my hand one of five things happens:
1. I fix the shit out of some piece of epically complicated machinery
2. I finally learn the true meaning behind the phrase 'kill a skunk, eat some string cheese, and never again be required to clean a Scandinavians boat shed'
3. I think 'hmmm, what's a wrench?'
4. I'm finally in the mood to explain number 2 (please note I am not currently holding a wrench, so you're shit out of luck)
5. I think 'you know what, if I was a real man I could totally kill a cockroach with this.'
- wrenches are fun
- if I was in a video game that'd be totally cool
- If missionaries have sex missionary style, how do nuns do it?
- what's a wrench?