Not So Deep Thoughts

Well, we're screwed. I'm plumb out of ideas (cool word, plumb) and YouTube links. This blog needs a jump start, damnit. Time to fall back on an old standby once again -- the written brainstorm.

You see, back in 2nd grade, my bitch of an elementary school teacher had us all write down a full page of whatever nonsense happened to pop into our head. She called it simply "brainstorming", and told us it was a good way to get ideas for writing. She was mostly full of shit but, fearful of her wrath (and hers was most certainly a wrath to be fearful of), we all completed the exercise anyway. Most of the boys wrote about the Celtics, Return of the Jedi, and our pet dogs. The girls wrote about Paddington Bear, Strawberry Shortcake, and Ricky Schroeder. If memory serves, I wrote about half a page of "I hate you. I hate you. Die. Die. Blood. I hate you. Die. Knives hurt. I hate you. I HATE YOU!!!!!!!" before the kid next to me, Jonathan Berkowitz, raised his hand and told on me.

...

I was just foolin' y'all. That thar's a joke. I don't actually remember what I wrote, but I do remember that Jonathan Berkowitz liked to tell on me a lot, that my teacher was in fact Lucifer incarnate, and that the 'brainstorming' exercise was largely a useless one. I've often employed it in the many years since those days, and not once has it gotten the old creative motor running again. It does display some interesting results though, as those long time readers of this blog can attest, and since I can't think of anything else worthy of 3,000 words, well, here we go. (For purposes of readability each individual thought is separated by it's own bullet point.)

• Bullet points rock da house, yo.
• Come on, type something asshole, don't just sit there lightly tapping the keyboard waiting for words to fly into your head. Sheesh
  
• Oooh!! Red Sox are on. Shall we watch? Yes, we shall precioussss. We shan't finish with the nasty posteststses... Yessssssss... *switch to personality 4 of 16* No, no, NO dammit!! You... you sit around here, with your filthy ideas, and your stupid sports teams and you stare at the walls, and you expect the whole world to revolve around you! Well, it doesn't, Mr Potter!! In the whole grand scheme of things I'd say you were nothing but a scurvy little spider... and... and that goes for you too!
• I'm taking a day trip later this summer and hitting a bunch of ice cream and custard stands. I love ice cream. I'm not so sure about custard. I don't know that I've ever had custard before. The name itself sounds kind of yicky... like I'm eating a bowl of frozen phlegm or something. But, I'm open-minded about this particular venture. There's even a custard stand in Middleton that sells Grape Nut custard. Phlegm, indeed!
• I think about moving away from Boston... often. It's way too expensive. The winter weather can be brutal (although this past winter was a wonderful exception. Yay, global warming!) There's a sense of undue entitlement among it's residents that is unlike anywhere else in the country - and not in a good way. The local government and public works are corrupt and full of croneyism. The list goes on and on. But then, I walk through Copley Square and the Back Bay at dusk on a warm summer day and I realize that there are few places anywhere that are more enjoyable, and that to leave it behind would be borderline insanity.
• There are no new messages in my Inbox. There weren't any new messages when I checked 30 seconds ago, either.
• Baked Kettle Chips are the best culinary invention so far this year. Apples are a close 2nd.
• This France v Italy World Cup final is, to my mind, the 2nd least desirable final possible. The least desirable would have been France v Brazil with a stadium full of Italian fans.
• Gotta switch the laundry. Today is laundry day. That usually means ironing is involved. I don't do well with irons. I usually end up with finger burns and the area rug in my bedroom has a nice iron shaped burn in one corner of it. Help.
• In addition to being laundry day, today is apparently - unofficially, of course - Gilbert & Sullivan Day (Don't ask me. I didn't declare it.) I wonder what happens on Gilbert & Sullivan Day? Are we all honorary modern major generals? Do we have to sing all our conversations? Are all the men gay and the women frustrated? What happens?
• This is going to sound very rude... but the people in my neighborhood need to stop having children. If that's asking too much then perhaps they should teach them that, when engaged in conversation, it isn't necessary to scream. They don't seem to grow out of this habit until they reach their thirties.
• I wanna rock right now. I'm Rob Bass and I came to get down. I'm not internationally known, but I'm known throughout the microphone, cuz I get stupid. I mean, outrageous. Stay away from me if you're contagious. Cuz I'm winner, no I'm not a loozah... and so on.
  
• When I was growing up, I kind of disliked Sunday. Although it was a weekend day, it filled me with nervousness and dread. Not only was there church and Sunday school, which I didn't want to go to, but there was all the homework I had to complete for real school the next day. Hell, simply even knowing that I had to go to school was enough to put knots in the stomach Was I crazy? I think I was crazy. Or just a Negative Ned. In any case, I'm glad I don't have a job which gives me homework and that I don't care enough about where the thought of going to it tomorrow gives me agita.
• I wonder if I should watch Hustle & Flow tonight. I too, can learn how to be a stone cold gangsta.
  
• I wonder if I should read Harry Potter instead (I'm on the most recent one... finally.)
• I wonder if I should go outside and enjoy the day.
• Nah... being lazy and surfing the Internet is more fun.
• Crap! Two outs in the bottom of the 9th and the White Sox just tied the score. Jesus. I'm turning the game off. (Expletives not suitable for print being uttered here.)
• So, I could quit here and call it a post, but does what I have written here inspire me towards writing any future posts? NO! Screw you, 2nd grade teacher, you were wrong.
• I hate you. I hate you. Die. Die. Blood. I hate you. Die. Knives hurt. I hate you. I HATE YOU!!!!!!!
• Hi, Jonathan Berkowitz. What are you doing here?
  
• The "delicate" load of laundry is now done. This, oddly enough, features some of my more delicate articles of clothing. Linen shirts and such... Hmm... why do I feel like singing a Gilbert & Sullivan tune?
• I've information animal and vegetable and... la, la, la, LA!
• Time to go. I've plenty more ideas, but no more time.
• No, really. It's time to go.
• WHAT THE HELL! Everytime I hit return I get a new bullet point. Stop, already!
• STOP!
• Screw this. I'm Audi-5000.
• OK, I'm walking away now!!
  
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