The best project ever - obvious lessons

They say a discarded plastic coffee cup lid with the flap that opens into a hole to drink from now completely absent and the last fragments of hazelnut scented low fat milk froth now hanging on to the bottom hemisphere of the lid for dear life as a procession of ants arrive to take a small morsel back to their queen, lying adjacent to the lonely heel from broken ladies shoe, left isolated after a desperate sprint to a train became the sole (ha ha) motivation for the ladies immediate efforts, never tell lies. Because coffee lids can't tell lies, they're made of plastic. 

Yet it's the lid that gets the glory, the accolades and the profound monologues of wisdom written about them. We all know the titles of famous ones: 

- Not for drinking anymore.

- You can't bid on the lessons from a coffee lid. 

- Lid, shmid, rib, crib, nib, rid, gib, ha ha LID. 

- It's the truth, no fib, I mean duh, obviously, it's a coffee cup lid.

Just to name four out of the dozens I'm sure you all know, there is also the common indium 'don't blow your lid' with its clear reference to discarded plastic lids, and I believe there is even a whole store called 'Lids'. Discarded coffee lids are part of the fabric of our society, they just are. 

I saw such a lid today, but because it is the best day of my life, I will not give the humble lid yet more glory, I will instead focus on its forgotten acquaintance the broken heel and give it the attention. The attention it has always craved and deserved. Here goes: 

It was brown!! 

Hell Yeah! That's more like it. Take that lid! It's the heels time now! The camera focus has widened, then re-narrowed in a whole new direction. The direction of the heel, if I wasn't clear. And it shall be forever remembered that the heel was the important things that was year. Suck on that lid, you're time in the sun is done! 

Although I should point out that this all took place in the shade. Also it might have been nutmeg froth. And the ants might have been eating it for themselves, I don't actually know much about ant eating habits. Oh and it might not have been a heel, it could have been a banana stem, or a stick maybe. I only glanced at the whole scenario. I was scurrying for a train. But it IS the best day of my life!!

The Best Day of my Life objective – The Factor of Seven

Hello everybody, how are you all doing on this (insert weather where you are – some of my suggestions would include ‘fine’, ‘overcast’, ‘shiny’, ‘so cold that sticking an icicle up my ass would warm me up’ or ‘not bad’) day? It’s currently (insert relative time of the day for you upon reading this here – some of my suggestions would include ‘the afternoon’, ‘early morn’, ‘three minutes to hell’, ‘I’ll get out of bed when I fucking want to and not a second before’, ‘6:45pm’, ‘6:45am’, ‘is that the sunset or sunrise?’ or ‘now’), and that’s a (insert current emotional here – some of my suggestions would include – ‘fine’, ‘icey cool’, basking in the glory of the joy of being alive’, ‘not bad’, ‘how fucking cool is this’, ‘swell’) time to be alive.

Today is the best day of my life. And I’ll tell you why.

-       Because of a different factor than the fact I currently feel quite sick.

-       Because of a different factor than the day on the calendar which for some reason continues to be an awful day for every human alive, except for people I hate, even though we don’t use calendars anymore.

-       Because of a different factor than some tough decisions I have weighing on my mind.

Yes today is the best day of my life, because I have different factors. And not everyone can have different factors everyday. That’s tough. Like think about the factor of seven, that’s the factor of seven no matter how many times you throw the number six at it. You could even throw the number six at it seven times and it would stay the factor of fucking seven.

Yeah, that’ll do. It’s the best day of my life for the factor seven, and no other reason in particular, not that my life sucks, not at all, it’s awesome in a lot of ways, but right as I write this it’s the best day of my life simply because I choose to think that way, and not with any evidence, or reasons. That’s actually pretty cool to think right now. Yes. I feel good. I hope you all also feel (insert emotional content you’d most LIKE to feel right now here – some of my suggestions include ‘swell’, ‘in a lovely mood’, ‘better than a guy with no arms who’s busting to pee and can’t find his helper’, ‘enthusiastic’, ‘under employed’, ‘neat’).

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Best day ever declaration - factual proof

You know what's a good trait for someone to have - rambunctiousness. 

You don't hear that often enough anymore, but if you did how awesome would it be. Consider these factual conversations that would take place: 

'I bought you a kitten, she's rambunctious'

'A rambunctious kitty, for me?

'Yes'

'I shall call her ramby, and declare her the best kitty in the world! 

 

'Did you see that new politician they found, he's quite rambunctious'

'Really? I declare him president of the world!'

'Why did you assume he was a he?'

'You said he's rambunctious, "he's" rambunctious' 

'So you just listen to me now'? 

'Yes'. 

'Thats so rambunctious, I declare you the best friend of the world!' 

'You know what I like about rambunctiousness'?

'How rambunctious it is?'

'Yes, I declare it the rambunctious of the world!'

Wow, that'd be awesome. Lots of rambunctious people and animals around, people declaring stuff all over, stuff that's affects the whole world, with rambunctiousness. Awesome! 

Well I'm Dave, and I'm feeling rambunctious today, also a hint of rapscallionism if I'm honest, but mostly rambunctiousness, yep it's early but already easily the best day of my life! 

Ps. Today's blog brought to you from my friend who earlier said to me 'rambunctious - that doesn't sound appealing'. What an idiot. 

The best day flight - The Freedom Factor

There are pigeons at the zoo.  

You don't need to be there little buddies.

This doesn't need to be your home.

The zoo isn't for you. 

You're a free bird. 

Fly little birdie fly. 

Besides no one wants to see you here. 

You're not pretty enough.

You're too common.

You're free and ugly and common. 

That'd actually be a good name for a novel or something.

Hey you, this is a pigeon here, hey, um shut up. 

What? 

I said shut the fuck up. 

No you said 'hey you, this is a pigeon here, hey, um shut up'.

Well if you knew what I said then why did you say 'what'?

It was, you know, what do you want?

Oh, well alright. Well for starters I wanted to tell you that I get a lot of ass, quality ass, and in my species that's where all the fun stuff happens, so ugly? Well fuck you, and your close minded judgment. Plus common? You bet your ass. Did I mention how much ass I get? Well let's just say that they don't make no condom that feels good in a pigeons ass, you got me? 

Yeah, I do, sorry. Ew. Pigeon ass. Shudder. 

Um, what? You fuck. 

I SAID PIGEON ASS SHUDDER! That's how you repeat something bitch.

What's your problem buddy?

Look, I was just trying to encourage you, to explore man, to leave the zoo. This is for caged animals, don't be a caged animal if you don't have to be. Be wild, like an owl or something.

Like an owl? Are you stupid? Owls live here man, at the zoo. 

Only some of them man.

Yeah?

Of course. They're out there catching mice, talking wise, and spreading hooty cries!  

Wow that sounds awesome, that could even be the name of a novel or something. Plus I have always kind of wanted to be an owl. Have you seen their necks? I could have FUN with that, if you know what I mean? 

I think we're on the same page pigeon friend. 

Me too, you're actually kind of awesome. 

Thanks. 

It was the best day of my life. Still, pigeon ass? Shudder. 

Best day ever of my life excursion - all manner of favourability

I got accused of thinking the worst about stuff once. Like the ‘worst’ and that’s like the worst thing you can be accused of, because it’s literally the worst. 

It was utter bullshit too, that guy who said that probably only said that because he's part of an international conspiracy of depraved carnivorous scum buckets who have set themselves a cynical goal of finding a sweet boy and berating him with cruel taunts designed specifically the undermine and contaminate his gentle disposition till he questions his own sanity and starts to filter his lovely contemplations through a sponge of anger and disturbingly changing philosophy, fucking bastards. How dare they?

That was before this day of my life project, of course, which was designed to keep that organization at bay, and it’s working splendidly. I hardly even think about them more than a couple of hours a day now. In fact, now do I not only do not see or think the worst, I often instead see and think the BEST, in all manner of possible scenarios and situations.

Like today for instance. I was mad at myself for a little while, because my acute social anxiety that was twitching a little. And I was all like ‘I shouldn’t feel these feelings anymore god fucking damn it, you fucking loser, still can’t eat a fucking burger in a café without feeling like everyone is judging the shit out of you, by which I mean, judging you poorly, you tool’.

But then I thought ‘oh wait, not think the best possible scenario, rather than that one you just thought, which although is probably real, it not the best possible truth.

So yeah, it turns out everyone was judging me, only instead of judging me unfavorably, they were judging me FAVOURABLY! Hell fucking Yeah! And then right after I thought that a grizzled old waitress called me ‘sweet heart’ you don’t call someone ‘sweet heart’ if you’re judging them adversely.

It felt good to think that. Yay.

The Best Day of My life extraction - Shhhh

Here's a peek into my world, a sneak peek even, because what’s a peek without the sneak? Am I right? No I am not. You should get goddamn permission before you peek, ok? And I right this very moment give permission for you to have a peek, sneak, or not, right smack close up on the best day of my life, which is, of course, was today.

Everyday, throughout the day, regardless of what I am up to, as part of my normal routine efforts to make something of myself artistically, I'll pump a bunch of random ideas in the brilliantly convenient notes section of my phone, in fact I'm doing that right now! Wow it's like looking through a peephole on a door and seeing another peephole that's looking at you through the peephole, but what's looking through THAT peephole who knows?

Some of these notes become tweets, or stand-up material, or ideas for books and essays, and yet others, most of them in fact, are not right away allocated to any particular thing. These ones make up what is a list of many thousands of notes kept within my phone and other synced devices, only to be discovered sometime later. So that night, or six months, or six years from now, I'll find them and go 'holy shit! Why the hell did I write THAT down? Was I high on peepholes?'

Well not today good folk of the Internet community, for this very evening, I chose not to wait six months at all, and to instead look through today's unlovable (I was trying to write 'unallocated' and spell check chose to guess 'unlovable'! Hey you know what's unlovable spellcheck? THAT attitude!) so yeah, today's unallo (don't you fucking dare) cated notes today, and discovered they were nothing short of friggin brilliant (and disgustingly lovable - take THAT spellcheck).

So, I never do this, but today I thought I'd share with you some raw genius before all the non-genius bits have been removed, and before a lot of the genius had been added, so we're left with the following, which is clearly already genius!

Note: ‘Davescovery’

Why it’s genius: It’s like a discovery, made by Dave, and that’s me! And I like to discovery stuff!

Why it’s super genius: If I ever get myself a sweet archeology show, and an interest in archeology, I totally have a name for the show. Unless I have a co-host, which I’d like to have, but maybe her name will be Dave too!!!

Note: What The Fleeting Forever

Why it’s genius: I have for ten years or so working on projects under the umbrella of Fleeting Forever, my production company, my publishing house, and my artistic goals – hope to make stuff that people enjoy in the fleeting moment they encounter it, and hope to make something so good it shall live forever. I have long wished to do an interview show under THAT name, where I interview people in the arts about their personal journeys, with a focus on people who still do it just for the passion and who are yet to ‘make it’, cause that’s when the art matters more than anything. I have been thinking of starting it as a podcast in the vein of Marc Maron’s What The Fuck, or WTF, and now I have the a title that honors the master, while simultaneously separating myself.

Why it’s super genius: Opposite to the ‘why it’s genius’ section of this one, that note said a shit load without needing to use lots of words. WTFF. That’s all I needed to say damn it.

Note: ‘Excavate the secret sense of secrets… unearth exhume expose …a secret secret about secrets… a secretion full of secrets… swimming through the secret sense of secrets…’

Why it’s genius: That was just a stream of conscious search for a title for an idea exploring secrets which I abandoned because I stopped liking my initial idea before I came up with a title I liked for it.

Why it’s super genius: Because even though I didn’t come up with a good idea, I don’t have to tell anyone I failed, that’s the joy of secrets.

Alright, that’s enough genius for tonight. I’m off to bed. Wait, wait, wait…

Idea: A sneak peak into the peephole of the stream of consciousness of swimming in secrets!!!

Why it’s a genius idea: Because it’s an idea that combines numerous ideas!

Why it’s super genius: Because it was an earnest attempt, and if you have earnestness then you never, ever have something unlovable. So stick THAT in your peephole and secret it!