I Didn't Go to Work Today Because My Legs Hurt So Goddamn Bad

'THE proof is in the pudding' is an old saying I've never really thought about. No one does. If I was told that there was someone who spends their time engrossed in thought about the meaning of the aftermentioned adage, I would call said conversationalist a liar. Some things are as simple as that.

But really. Doesn't it make you want to laugh. Laugh. Laugh. Laugh. Laugh. Laugh. Laugh. Laugh. Laughlaughlaughlaugh laugh laugh laugh laugh laugh laugh laugh laugh laugh laugh laugh laugh laugh laugh laugh laugh laugh laugh laugh laugh laugh laugh laugh.

It's almost music the way fingers type out words on a keyboard. If one establishes a rhythm, there is no telling where they may find themselves.

Do piano players make good typists? Or vice versa? The stenographers in those court-room scenes in movies must be master pianists. When they leave their day job, they must mosy down to the local jazz club and blow people's minds. Maybe that's what made Thelonius Monk such a sevant: he honed his talent behind a type-writer. There must be hundreds of white-collar criminals and murderers who lust for Monk's blood.

totally totally totally totally totally totally

'Totally', followed by a space, makes a wonderful hip-hop beat. Where's MF Doom when you need him?

Are people less passionate about things today? If you love dogs, you write about dogs. If you love music, you write about music. It seems that there is a lack of writing these days. Or perhaps I'm only operating within my own little bubble. The internet is endless, not unlike space. And within that endlessness lies writing about everything; literally everything. Publication these days is over-rated, in my opinion. Fuck the printed word, the internet is where it's at. It's alot harder to read and does not have the convenience of portability like a book or magazine does, but the internet has no boundaries. I don't have to pay an agency to whore me to publishing houses on my own blog-site. I could post an entire novel and get away with it. Hurray for technology.

I'm going to Hamline University to write. Also, to live with my girlfriend. Mostly though, I just want to get the hell out of Illinois. I need a change of scenary.

I will download the new Chris Cornell album and listen to it for pleasure. I will find nothing of substance within the 'music'. I will listen to it for pleasure; I will laugh out of amusement.