The Best Day of my Life – four flying coat hangers

Hello everyone, so this is the best day of my life initiative, the blog posts I write really late at night when I really want to go to sleep, but have to do this because I promised myself I would, which sounds all negative and stuff, but it isn’t, because the whole concept of this blog is that I cast my mind over my day, and everything that took place during it, with an admiring glance, no more than that, a leer, as I picture my day as flawless, no more than that, perfect! Wait, is perfect more than flawless? It kind of has to be doesn’t it, because by definition if something is perfect then there can not be anything better. But flawlessness is pretty sweet too. Wait, no it’s not – that just means there aren’t any mistakes, like in my writing skills, it doesn’t necessarily mean that the thing you are talking about is actually good. You can be mediocre, unlike my writing skills, and still be flawless. Wait, I’ll prove it.

Kevin climbed the stairs.

Now that sentence was fucking flawless. All the words are in the right order, something happens, and we know who it happens too, and where it happens, and yet we are left with a sense of wonder, and anticipation, I mean, who is Kevin? Where are these stairs? What’s at the top of them? And for that matter what was at the bottom that was so scary/ not interesting that he left that behind for the potential safety/ more interesting excitement at the top. It’s almost brilliant in its simplicity, it’s not over thought, or played out. It’s informative yet intriguing. It’s captivating yet simple.

Wait a minute, wait a minute, oh fuck it is brilliant, aw man. Fuck, I have just gone and undermined my whole goddamn point. I wanted to write a flawless sentence that WASN’T also actually good. Well fuck me in the mosquito bite.

Shit, that last sentence was flawless and also visually stunning. I can’t be fucking stopped.

But why should I be stopped. I can write about whatever I want here, even about four flying coat hangers, if I want to, even though that’s in the title, and normally I wouldn’t want to reveal why until far deeper into my piece on my day, to save it as an illuminating and exciting reveal, like when a magician takes off his cloak and reveals that he’s actually just a loser playing with metal rings. Which sounds all negative and stuff, but it isn’t because he’s a magical loser.

So there were four flying coat hangers. Who knows why, or how, or why? It’s not important. Because as I have proven not giving everything away is a sign of brilliance, and that’s where I am stuck today, being bloody brilliant.

Oh great, alliteration, an awesome literary trick, I can’t stop.

The point is, today was the best day of my life. I had an audition that went well, I got some good work done, I ate a cookie, and I had several drops of sweat roll into my butt crack. I frigging nailed it. And I feel good.  I’m pretty sure at some point I consumed a beverage, and that’s awesome. In fact only one thing happened all day that I have regrets over – I wanted to write a sentence that was flawless but not amazing, I think I will give it one last shot.

Explode the crises.

Now that’s just damn right extraordinary. I think I may literally be perfect. 

Ps. Any remanding gramitcal or spelling mistakes in this piece were left in on purpose as part of my flawless war on perfection, and in no way represent a lack of being bothered to edit.