Strokin' the Stem: A Tale of Cerebral (almost) Copulation

Upon review of the last post I was reminded by MySelf that perhaps some encephalon stimulation would assist in preventing sudden onslaughts of imaginative upchuck. "Like mental masturbation" I asked MySelf. Apparentaly, we were not amused (I was). Anyway, here's pretty much how that conversation went...
Me: "Brain...hey brain, you awake"?
Brain: "Who is it"?
Me: "What the hell do you mean who is it? It's me, you know the one on the outside of that skull that surrounds you, keeps you safe when Inner Ear fails to keep us vertical on those stilts down there and we go tumbling down a flight of stairs WHEN WE'RE NOT EVEN DRUNK"?
Sorry, wasn't yelling at you, just hoping Inner would hear me...that was ridiculous".
Brain: "Oh, yea right, how ya doin"? Listen, do you think you could go stand in front of the mirror or something...seeing you would make this conversation slightly less awakward".
*stumbles to wall mirror* Perhaps I shouldn't have yelled at Inner...seems quite pissed and this whole walking thing just got more difficult.Dammit.

Me: "Sooooo, what's up with sudden bursts and outpourings of artistic genius"?
Brain: " You don't provide me with frequent stimulation. I wonder how many cell phone conversations we are standing right now, I mean thousands of invisible waves going right through us right now at this exact second. Did you ever think about that"??

Me:"No not until just now, and now all I can think of is cancer, thanks.
Pay attention will ya? Like mental masturbation"? What you want me to grasp the cerbral stem and stroke it"??? Should I talk dirty to you as well? Oh brain...you big throbbing mass of grey matter".
Brain:..."You're weird, this conversation is finished, I'm going back to sleep and no we are not dreaming of ninja M&Ms on a unicorn again".

Me: "You're the one actually thinking all of this AND I'M THE ONE WHO IS WEIRD"??
Pfffffttttt, I don't care what that neural nuisence up there says...we'll discuss this later, and there will be ninjas
dammit.

Inspiration or Violent Digestive Assault

My creative spirit tends to make appearances like a bout with explosive diarrhea. It is sudden, coming in uncontrollable spurts at inconvenient times and inappropriate places, it usually results in a mess and disturbed looks from others caught in its path.

Weeks pass without inspiration, sometimes months. Then a bubble or four....Hark, says Self, we may have an idea!
It passes (insert fart joke of choice here)and is soon forgotten or filed away in mental crevices yet unknown. I wait, ponder, wait some more, but nope pretty sure it was a false creative alarm. Foolishly I carry on with life as though I had not been through this before.

Suddenly and most unfairly without warning while going about daily routines (work, Wal-mart, walking the dog, eating hot dogs and Oreos)it strikes!
You have no idea how the others who are not afflicted with this particular faulty circuit stare at someone in the middle of the pasta aisle furiously swearing at her "smart" phone for turning pencil into penis (not really sure what that says about my everyday vocabulary)while smashing fingers to touchscreen keyboard (must make words, must
make semisensical words!!!!) in a horrific attempt to express herself. I usually email myself a rough draft to work on later, occasionally some of my very understanding and compassionate (mentally twisted, mostly insane and therefore nonjudgmental) friends get sucked in to my prolific vomit, apologies.



So there's that...little probably unwanted glimpse into my psyche.

It's All About Location...Right???

Oh MSN...No one thought this was an *awkward placement of articles??? No one???

Hipster's Paradise

As I walk through the valley lookin like I smoke meth
I take a look at my balls and realize they done left
Cuz I've been tryna prove for so long that
Zima didn't make my moms eggs go wrong
But I ain't never scoffed at music that didn't deserve it
And I've never listened to a band that you woulda heard of
You better pay attention how I dress,how I speak
Or you an your vanilla crew might be seen me tweak
I really hate to sneer but I gotta yo
As I roll my eyes I see myself in the hookah smoke, TOOL
I'm the kinda cool that ya know you wanna be like
In the coffee shop late at night readin poetry in the dim light




Been spendin most their lives livin in the Hipsters Paradise
Been spendin most their lives livin in the Hipsters Paradise
I'll keep spendin all my life livin in the Hipsters Paradise
I'll keep spendin all my life livin in the Hipsters Paradise




This regular situation that I be facin
I can't live a normal life, don't you read my tweets??
So I gotta look down on the mainstream
Too much Pabst Blue Ribbon drinkin got me chasin dreams
I'm so educated and cool with nonconformity on my mind
Got my ten speed for a ride and big shades on my eyes
I'm a doppelganger set on bein obscure
And all my friends dress like me, wearin vintage coture TOOL
Death ain't nothin but a bitchslap away
I'm smokin unfiltered eurocigs now what can I say
I've got 3% body fat now will I make it down to 2
The way my pants are fittin my genitals are blue

Tell me why do you wanna label me
I'm to rad to care why can't you see


Been spendin most their lives livin in the Hipsters Paradise
Been spendin most their lives livin in the Hipsters Paradise
I'll keep spendin all my life livin in the Hipsters Paradise
I'll keep spendin all my life livin in the Hipsters Paradise





Sweater over plaid shirt, plaid shirt under sweater
Cynical not sarcastic, my skinny jeans are fantastic
Everybody's stunnin, but half them lookin chronic
I cut my hair like Justin Bieber cuz I think I'm ironic
They say that I'm aloof, but I know no one gets me
If they can define me how awesome can I really be??

Oh God they can
Oh shit they will
I guess I suck
That's why I know my life is lame as fuck...TOOL

What I really Want to See This Saturday

So not sure if you are football fans, I am sorta kinda (ok let's be honest, I just like the "excuse" drink heavily and eat fried spicy foods and yell at the TV..the same reaction can (has also been known to) occur whilst watching episodes of House Hunters, but clearly that is not the point) however it occurred to me while procrastinating awakening due to ensuing monsoon outside, what we have here is a rare opportunity. We have (alleged) committer of homicide Ray Lewis on the same field as (alleged) raper (such a harsh word...surprise sexer?) Ben Rothlisburger(sp?)...now this my friends gives way to the scene taking place in my head. Remember the old Liz Taylor commercial..the one where she gives away her diamond earring all shot in black & white(
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vjVfu8-Wp6s).... Enter O.J. Simpson...walking on the field just before the coin toss...handing Ray & Ben one Isotoner glove each uttering "these have always brought me luck" ...meanwhile Farve & Vick look on from the sidelines with a hint of tears glistening from their eyes...
Now, it occurs to me that perhaps Liz and O.J. could elope during halftime..thus allowing 2 things to happen: 1) old Lizzie could complete marriage as in the sense of "til death do us part" and 2) A new trial for the Juice. It was however brought to my attention that such events and solving of age old enigmas and tying of ancient loose ends could have dire consequences on the world as we know it. So, I did the research, consulted a few oracles, a psychic from Long Island, and took a bit of Peyote and the following is what would happen:
Aids will be cured, Tupac will be found alive in the Amish Country of Pennsylvania, PC & Mac will merge, all left socks previously thought lost in the dryer will be found in a sinkhole outside Utah,and world hunger will be cured. On the downside, Justin Bieber will run for president and win. I think we all can agree, sorry Magic Johnson, Aids is better than Bieber.

New TSA Security Measures

I have a solution to the new highly unpopular TSA gropings, er screening procedures, while I agree every measure must be taken to prevent sudden midair explosions, there are easier ways! The clear cut simple fix to the aforementioned junk grabbings is this:Fly Naked. By doing so a multitude of current airport issues could be solved:

1) Easy, quick passage through security...just squat , cough (jump thrice if extremely overweight) and proceed

2) Since muslims and most other terroristy religions forbid the sight of unclothed women, airports would thus become forbidden grounds as they could instantly and unwittingly send one to hell...thus eliminating the need for security all together

3) More nookie nookie (mile high club for all) less bomby bomby...this will also result in world peace as everyone will be too busy snogging to be bombing (instead of crappy snackpacks I suggest airlines pass out condoms...mixed nuts indeed)

4) Easy clean up of the passenger cabin...gone are the days of vacuuming a carpeted and cloth covered (read fart smell holding) seats, flying naked would mean plastic covered seats easy to hose floors...now upon passenger exit of said airbus, and simple solution of bleach and water can be sprayed over the cabin (those who would like may now disembark via the emergency (water) slide as an added bonus)

5) Plastic seats would make finding the token cabin farter easier...no more looking around for who ate the P.F Changs before departure...we all heard you...go on claim it

No longer would we have a First, Business or Coach class....nay, the new airlines will feature Hetro, Bi, or Homo sexual seating areas...all of course equal in size, legroom and seatbeds. No more window or aisle choices will have to be made, no one cares about the window here let's be honest...KY or Analease? Cum Fly the Friendly Skies!

Flex Your Rights

Regardless of the results on either side of this game called politics if you voted, you can at least stand up proudly and say "I was not among the apathetic, those who just laid down *ss up and took the fisting willingly"...