The Best Day of my Life significance – twenty one hours or so away

Hello everybody, and all your friends, family and even loved ones - today was the best day of my life, and you know what, I am going to tell you why - I ate cereal for breakfast! And ok, sure, that’s a little peculiar, and if I am honest even a tiny bit bizarre, but that's not the MOST weird, unusual or even irregular thing I did today, awesome and odd sure, but it only scratched the service of my strange day.

I guess the MOST curiously strange thing I did today was probably the fact that I didn't digest a monopolized theory of creature comfort hunting. Something I normally do at least once or twice a day, before then catching myself and thinking – ‘wait “creature comforts”, like creatures like animals? Is that really what that term is about? Animals? Cause I've seen flies wriggling for life on a spider-web and while the web does look mostly soft and like it naturally contours to the body, for the most part that fly doesn't look comfortable, especially as the spider bites it's face off, although it does see to calm down the wriggling around then. Wait does that mean monopolies are bad?'

Then, of course, having reached this final question it’s only now that the day normally really gets interesting, because I find myself looking through history in search of a true successful monopoly that was not bad, and here's the thing, those are hard to find, because history books are normally more interested in pots than monopolies.

But why pots? Is this a conspiracy? Clearly. But what kind of conspiracy - one designed, managed and hidden by a wide group of individuals or even firms, or one monopolized by just one man, woman or firm?

Good god!

Now I realize that there is a good chance that I've missed out on learning out on learning about historical monopolies because of a monopoly, and because of that I no longer have even a tiny idea if I'm supposed to be seeking an existence as comfortable as a fly having its face eaten off?

And I'll admit it, without the comfort of the fly contentment seems a mile away, and I already often find fucking contentment to be a hard emotion to maintain endlessly and flawlessly - and it turns out it's all cause of pots!

Good god!

This thought train usually takes up a good deal of my day, researching, studying, experimenting, and obviously catching flies to chuck at spider-webs desperately seeking answers. Answers that are often as hard to come by as a spider-web with a spider still on it, and with no kids throwing rocks at it.

Not today though. I didn’t do even half of that stuff today. Perhaps because I started the day right, with cereal, and then focused on that delicious bowl of cereal for the rest of the day. Leading to the best day of my life. So thanks for reading todays blog, I will see you again tomorrow, or if I am on it early possibly even only 21 hours or so away.

Wait hang on, don't historians also check out not just ancient pots but also bowls? Just like the one I ate cereal out of?

Oh my fucking God.

I've been in on the conspiracy the entire time, and if I'm the only one eating bowls of cereal, which I may well be, seeing as I pay almost no attention to other people, so have no idea what they do or do not do, then this conspiracy might be monopolized by me!!!

I’m suddenly very scared, I no longer have any idea what I am capable of, and what other monopolies I control, either today or through history. Watch the fuck out, is all I am saying, things are about to get bloody abnormal and that’s coming from a guy who during this blog really did use a shit load of synonyms for ‘weird’.

The Best Day of My Life System – twenty will be used profoundly

I got lots of things running through my mind right now – the numbers twenty and forty, the products pants and guitars, the feelings of harmony and glossiness and, yes, something else that I think few people have ever really felt like thinking about at a time when they can’t stop thinking about it, yes, I am talking about doubt.

I think perhaps for the time being I will talk about the last one. This last sentence no longer makes total sense after I have altered a little bit of what was written above, but why the hell should I give up on it. It played it’s part, it was a useful, honest and even optimistic sentence when it was first written, and on this blog, tonight, in this moment, I will not give up on you sentence – I will find away to make you matter once more, you can count on that.

Doubt – to doubt oneself, to feel the emotion of doubt, to second guess whether or not you doubt something, doubtful – yes the definitions of such a word are as diverse as they are hilarious as they are clear as day, as long as the day is a clear day, which often it is not, especially if you live somewhere foggy like London, San Francisco, or any place where a murder took place in the 1980s.

Or any rock video in the 1980s. This last sentence is an alternative option for the last sentence of the past paragraph. I thought of it only after writing the original sentence, and decided it did not warrant replacing the sentence I had written originally, even though I am not completely happy with impact I hoped the orginal sentence would have, but it wasn’t this sentences fault. It did its part, it gave me an alternative, and really that’s all I asked from it – So I will not abandon you sentence, you have my word.

At this time my writerly instincts are telling me that the correct way to continue on with this blog is to finish the thought I had on doubt, and then conjure up a third example of a sentence that needs my help to stay alive even though its use would not normally be evident and obvious in the normal scheme of the story I originally was inspired to write. But fuck that. This blog is not about getting things write, or following pre-conceived notions of what is right and wrong, or even write or rong – I am currently pissed off at myself for not finding another way about to spell the word wrong to try and find some humor from missuses of the words ‘right’ and ‘wrong’. You see, this blog is about just being true to my thoughts, so I will be true to them motherfuckers, I just confess some stuff. And it is within that truth that I get to say, with no lie nor effort – that today was the best day of my life.

What I originally intended todays blog to be about was actually about how I was proud of myself for restringing a guitar today, taking time to relearn how to do it, rather than pawn the job off to one of my far more guitar gifted friends, as I normally do. Sure my guitar now sounds a little rattly, and I will probably need one of my far more guitar gifted friends to fix the damage. But I am still proud of myself for taking on a chore I normally avoid out of fear of doing it wrong.

Doubt – when I randomly pulled that word out of my butt as I started writing this I thought to myself – ‘run with that, with and by the time you end writing this find a way to honestly say – I am finally ready to say I will no longer give into doubt – I am now living in a world where I have eradicated it’.

Well I can’t say that. But what I can say is this – trying to eradicate it is fucking stupid – the goal is to limit how much I let it affect me negatively and be happy with reduction – no one is perfect Dave, it’s ok.

I currently doubt this last little bit of writing – I prefer these posts to be funny first, and profound, or anything in that world – philosophical, thoughtful, lesson learny – only if it remains funny first, and the lessons are helping that, rather than instead of that.

I am doubting this entire direction I am going in right now.

Fuck it – that’s what todays blog turned out to be.

Oh I have to use twenty somehow and then I can wrap this up – um twenty tiny missell contraptions that can’t stop the cream storm!!!

Oh, I mentioned above that I will confess some stuff during this blog – I should do one more – ok, um, that use of the word twenty above makes me really happy.

Oh and ‘missell’ isn’t a real word, but I couldn’t spell the word I meant to spell even close enough to get it with spell check, and I don’t give the slightest shit, yay.

The Best Day of my Life endeavor – page nineteen?

I’m going to do something a little different right now for today’s blog. Normally I use this place to reflect over my day, and demonstrate flawlessly and poetically how and why it was the best day of my life. Because my life only gets better and better everyday, obviously, but today I shall not reflect. Instead I will flip the mirror on its head to a new leaf on a whole fresh page, and instead of reflecting I will project. Or even predict, or wait, now I’ve got it – prophesize.

Well ok, here is the deal, early this evening, twice, I am talking TWO times, out of a total of TWO attempts, or not even attempts, but more random occurrences, I happened to pick up books, say out loud – ‘you know what’s some awesome advice’ – and then turn to a page randomly and read out the first sentence, and both times, I am talking TWO times, the sentence I randomly put my finger on were profound and ridiculously relevant to the very stuff that was happening at the time (filming on this webseries I am filming, which isn’t important, for what I am writing about right now that is). It was quite mind blowing at the time, at least to me. So I had a thought – I shall try one more time and this next one will not merely reflect the present, but also represent and illuminate something important that will become significant in my future.

So I opened a random book…

Pointed my finger without looking…

And the sentence that began where my finger was read…

‘For it was the best day of my life’…

Woah.

Just like this blog direction endeavor I’ve been gestating and exploring daily for nigh on three weeks now.

Woah.

Well the three-week thing isn’t really worth another woah, I think that last woah was more about the original boom of recognition and acceptance than anything else.

Look I felt like woahing again, ok? That’s the point.

Anyway, I started writing this tonight, as I do every night, with a simple plan of not planning anything, other than letting the previous days events, with a focus on why it was the best day ever, influence stream of consciousness explorations. As I began to write and I remembered the book thing from earlier, which although warranted some hefty woah type activity, had escaped my mind as I delved at the time back into remembering lines and acting with amazing grounded creative realism, it occurred to me that before this blog was over I would have to delve back into a random book for another line – but what will I ask the magic book? What will it tell me? What feels right, right now – ok… I’m thinking.

First words I think of from now are…

Great heights of nuances…

Ok, well that says to me that the next great thing that will grab my heart will be amazing in it’s sense of nuance…

Hmmm…

I am going to now go and randomly grab a book, just the first one on my shelf that I put my hand on…

Ok, I got ‘The Death of Bunny Munro’ a novel by Nick Cave. I have never read this book, so who knows what’s in it…

I will pick a random page and line now…

I wonder what it will reveal…

Here goes…

‘Unclutted sleep’

What the fuck?

It’s nearly 5am, I am still wide awake, my bed is wet from filming a scene earlier where I poured water on my head in bed, and shit, that really gives me fuck all. I don’t see any message, and have no idea where the nuance could possibly be, let alone take me to great heights.

Screw it, I am finished this blog for another day, I am off to bed.

Woah.

The Best Day of My Life Project – a few times a few times a few equals eighteen

Today was the best day of my life, and I will tell you why – I bought a clipboard!

I mean that wasn’t the only thing I did today, I also ate a few of times, I used ‘the facilities’ a few times, I showered a few times, I scratched my nose a few times, I watched birds flying across the sky a few times, I checked my email a few times, I looked at the dead ants in the poison on my kitchen floor and thought ‘I really should clean that one day’ a few times, I peed a few times, I smiled at a stranger and then thought ‘oh fuck that’s a mirror, wow I HAVE lost weight’ a few times, I checked Facebook a few times, I thought things a few times, I used the amenities a few times; and that’s just the thing, everything I did today, and most days, I did a few times, but that clipboard, well I only bought that once.

This of course means numerous things; the purchase of the clipboard that is, rather than my ‘few’ nature of existence, let’s say this means precisely three things, or if you want a more general answer a ‘few’ things:

-       I now own a clipboard

-       If I ever see anything that makes me think ‘hmmm, I like that how it is, but what if, and I am just thinking out loud here, what if that same thing was clipped to something, possible some form of board, maybe even with some form of clipping apparatus already attached to it, a board that clips you may say, well I think that sounds like it would improve this situation remarkably’ well then I own something that will make that thought really come to life.

-       If someone asks me anytime soon if I own a clipboard I can confidently answer ‘um, yeah, I think so’.

And that’s the thing with doing things only once; you can really get deep within the enjoyment of it. I mean it turned out in the end I didn’t need the clipboard for the thing I thought I was going to need it for, so it was a totally waste of time and two dollars buying it, but that’s not what I am focusing on, I am focusing on the uniqueness of the experience, which is awesome, and really is something I typically only do a few times a day.

The Best Day of My life Decision – seventeen squeezes of the puke bottle

I fake puked today. Yay.

I have faked many things in my life – interest, concern, misanthropy, measles, control, till I made it, silly putty, drizzle, I even once faked the fact I once faked having the measles, recently actually, really recently. Still the fake puking was way up on my fake list, which is of course a real list about fake things, unless this in itself is a fake fact about an otherwise real thing. Oh fuck; now even I don’t know what to believe.

Wait, here is a fake list – things that I wish could never be taken away from the hands of the most innocent fishmongers who never once protested about the need for greater pay hierarchies to be broken down into smaller offshoots of the forever festival organizers of nihilistic opportunity decoders, I mean they were just walking past man, they didn’t do it!

-       Hens.

-       Stuffed giraffes.

-       Pillow cases.

-       Hand held fans.

-       I mean stuffed TOY giraffes, honestly people.

-       Cluelessness.

-       Measles.

-       Or stuffed real giraffes, I mean this is a fake list, I plainly said so while setting it up, so who gives the fuck what I write here.

-       White Power.

-       Fuck, that last ones gonna get me in trouble isn’t it? It’s a fake list people; it specifically doesn’t mean anything. 

-       I keep reading it back as white ‘powder’ anyway, which I think is proof I am not racially prejudice.

-       The color blue.

Now here is a real list, and remember, in contrast to the last list, this one is lacking even a hint of fakes.

-       Gucci.

-       Helmar the great.

-       Measles.

-       The sound of the inside of a seashell.

-       How some people who have beards would look really different if they didn’t have beards.

-       The stuffing from the inside of a toy giraffe, oozing out of it’s viciously stabbed belly.

-       The color Mozambique.

Now, what do those two lists have in common? It’s obvious isn’t it? At least when you look closely. That’s right, you got it – it’s sometimes a tad difficult to tell real from fake. Well movie making is just like these two lists. In fact some of the things mentioned in these two lists actually show up IN movies! Wow.

You know what? Because today is the best day of my life, and as such I feel a tad awesome, I am going to be generous here, no faking required. Here is a little lesson in movie magic.  

I was acting today, and this meant that I got to stand in my bathroom with a friend, while we took it in turns squeezing the milk carton full of random heavily moistened foodstuff, with the tube coming out of it that was duck taped to my face, trying to make it look like puke was coming out of my face – oh wait, movie magic – the magic is that when you make movies they probably just CGI I this, and if they don’t the fake puke probably doesn’t smell so much like real puke that the smell of it makes it really hard not to really puke, which would be bad for the shot, because real puke doesn’t look anywhere near enough like real puke, so you have to fake it, plus real puking doesn’t feel good.

Yep there you go. Movies don’t seem so mysterious anymore, now do they? Ok, good, now go and get your measles vaccinations people, got knows how many people there are rolling around town claiming that they may have, or may not have had them, which means literally everyone could be contagious!