Go to Bed, Me.

It's only quarter past midnight. I usually loaf about for another hour or so before calling it a night, so why not write a blog entry about nothing? (Because, you know, I've clearly established a pattern of writing about the important issues of our time.)

Highlight of the day: a perfect stranger called me a fag in a Facebook status comment thread. I think it has something to do with the flowery diction I employ in Facebook posts, and in blog posts, I guess. Heck, I probably speak theatrically in normal life. If that's the case, I say go to bed, me, and never wake up.

Item 2 on the agenda: I'm still unsure which direction to take this whole blog thing. Should I make it a diary? Should I make it a journal (a diary for boys)? Should I do what I've been doing: ramble about nothing and everything, but mostly nothing, obviously? A co-worker gave me the idea to open a blog and use it for my fiction writing so I can just find a computer and put my ideas down whenever and wherever they come to me. Don't worry, gang; that won't be this blog. You won't have to read my screenplay about a guy who lives in a world of super heroes but has no super powers himself, making him the butt of every super joke, and how he learns to accept his weakness and eventually comes to the rescue of those super heroes who scorned him.

Will someone just tell me to shut up? Just kidding. I know you've been pleading for my silence since the second paragraph, but you just couldn't stop reading. I'm awesome as a train wreck (which is, I believe, something Will Smith once said).

Time ta Puke Out Another’n.

So late last night, there I was, reading essays for my English 2010 class, and I thought to myself, I’m so glad I understand rules of grammar and punctuation, because I must be among the few who do. Then another thought came to me: you probably did no better than these guys at covering the requirements of the writing assignment, so shut up and get back to writing your draft of The Notebook told from the perspectives of the hypothetical children of Ryan Gosling and Rachel McAdams. And don’t forget to title it The Handy Dandy Notebook, because obviously this story is by kids, for kids.

Sometimes I wonder if I sleepdrive to bars at night and sleepdrink.  Or maybe sleepdometh.

This is Honestly a Post written Two Months Ago on My Wordpress Blog

Listening to my Cat Stevens record skip makes me second guess this whole blog thing. I mean, who do I think I am, Julie and Julia? I guess it’s a good way to throw thoughts out there in a semi-organized manor. I’m gonna get it from Neal and Tyler if they find out about this. Seth won’t say anything, and no-one’s gonna crack that shell. Lance… well, Lance is busy in Azaroth.

Right now I should be doing homework, which is actually a simple writing assignment. Almost as ironic as that Alanis Morissette song: “Hand in My Pocket.” Anyway, this seems more fun. (You know I’m trying to sound nonchalant, but that, deep down, I’m hoping against hope that this blog becomes a big deal in some way.)

Wow. I’ve already written more than a quarter of the length of my writing assignment. Well, better get to it.

Nite, Cyberworld!