Jolly

I ate 7 hot dogs today. I feel like such a waste. I also had a large coffee milkshake in carvel for my breakfast. Somewhere in between, I also had a few whipped-cream shots, coated with chocolate sprinkles.

Last time I checked, I was around 190-195 ish. I wonder if I broke the 200 mark yet. I would check, but my scale doesnt work.

Its probably good that I gain weight... for various reasons.

(no specific order)

1. I would be able to use my fat to warm myself during lonely winter nights.

2. I could disguise my ripples of fat on my stomach as muscle definition.

3. Increases the probabilty of living if I get shot by a sniper.

4. Provides cushion to my future sexual partner.

5. I can wear the clothes my mom bought for me a few years back, when she said, "These will fit in a few years."

6. The fatter I am, the more soap you could potentially make out of me. Not that I would let you make soap out of my body fat, but its comforting to know that if I were to choose to make soap out of my fat, I could make a decent amount.

7. Why gain weight??? So I can lose it.

8. So my little brother can sit in the shade that I create when I block the sunlight from hitting the Earth.

9. Fatter people tend to be more jolly.

10. I would be pursued by many ugly people. And ugly people take up the majority of the United States, thus increasing my chances of getting laid thricefold.

The River

Warning: If you know someone that goes to Frank Defino Central School, tell them to never go on or around the jungle gym. I know of a filthy Indian that pees on and around the Jungle Gym, specifically, inside the crawling tube. It dries up into a thick-ish consistency. I know that detail not because I've felt the pee myself, but because it’s what my bathroom floor looks like when I take a piss without my glasses. I'm blind without my glasses. I mean, I hear my piss stream hit the toilet water, so I assume I'm ya know, I assume that I'm game, etcetera. But little do I know, my piss was shooting out in two individual piss streams. It split like a river; one side poured its contents into the bowl, the remaining branch... onto the floor.

And there you have it, the explanation of why I know the consistency of my friend's dried up pee.

On that note, it was a nice day outside yesterday, wasn't it? It prompted me to buy ice cream, so I walked with Steve and Mike to Carvel. Mike is getting too wigger for my tastes, but I forgive him. I've known him since I moved to Marlboro, circa 6 years ago. Steve has red hair... I forgive him also.

Denis and James were on duty. The boss left early, so instead of the jazz that usually plays in the store; they had some satellite radio rap station. We sat down in the store admiring the expressions on a few mothers' faces as the uncensored babblings of an angry African American leaked into the brain of each infant and child. Its okay, the bacteria from the dirty ice cream scoops purged the sins that took refuge among the innocent that day.

Oh yeah, our cash register is a laptop. You know the world is going down the drain when 4 guys crowd around an ice cream store's cash register to check their myspaces.

hmm

silk, milk, and cedar

Hey, so today I wake up knowing I have time to kill till 5. Probably opportune time to make a dent in my summer reading collection. As I Lay Dying, One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest, and that spanish book that my foxy spanish teacher left us. Hmmm.

So like any normal, hungry man would do, I picked the one most visually appealing.

Within the first 10 pages, I start reading about some woman who went on a cake baking marathon. She was then pissed off because the person that was supposed to buy the cake, changed her fucking mind. Within the same 10 pages, I read about some guy named Darl.. (who would name their kid Darl?) Well, Darl started talking about how water tastes much better if it sits in a wooden bucket of Cedar for a few hours. He then enlightens me about his childhood, and his late night, forbidden adventures to drink from the wooden bucket just outside his porch.

Oh yea, the name of the book is As I Lay Dying.

I know.

Last year, I chose the book, The Secret Life Of Bees. At least I got what I paid for. It was about bees, and the secret life they supposedly had. No surprises there. This year, I pick out what is known to me as a let down...but I won't let that mishap get in the way of my overall experience of the book. Maybe the sex and violence comes at the end of the book...

Today, in Carvel, (I work Tuesdays and Wednesdays 12-5pm, and Saturday 5- 12), Guess who comes in. The LUNCH LADY. My coworker and I (James, some kid thats gonna be a junior), were amazed. Finally, we get to serve her.. its like dream, but better. Well, the lunch lady came in with the biggest smile. James and I always chose her as our first choice cashier, not only because she was efficient in monetary affairs, but she also had the silky vocals to go along with it. She was the high pitched one thats by the sandwich making line near the window side of the cafeteria. Yea, her. The one that sounds like mouse sex everytime she opens her mouth. So silky. So deadly.

Carvel isn't bad at all actually. Today was a slow day, and I didn't get many orders of the Sundae Dashers, shakes, or Banana Barges.. thank God. A lot of cool people come in from time to time... we also get a few poopy mofos. One time, some asian chick gave me a 5 dollar tip, and she only bought 2 small cones. But another time, some lady mofo buys 2 sundae dashers and 3 milkshakes, and gave nothing. Don't worry, the cool people outnumber the mofos by a lot.

Some old guy, randomly walks in one day and hands me a carton of skim milk. He says,

"Here, take this, use it for anyone that asks for skim milk."

I take the carton, with a look on my face as if I accidentally got two toys put into in my Happy Meal.

I say, "Oh, thanks, I appreciate it."

Did I mention how he walked into the store? He walked in with this... this stride.... I'm not sure how to explain it...

...like a pimp that is returning an overdue library book.

En route to exiting the store, he glances back and gives me the nod. He walks out and opens the door like hes on a mission. Like I said, the cool people outnumber the poopy ones.

Hm, does anyone know where I can buy a wooden bucket? Preferably cedar. I'm gonna ask my mom to check Bed, Bath, and Beyond tomorrow. My water has been too bland recently.

centrastate

Wow, Lionel Richie is like my god. I volunteered today at Centrastate, and I basically folded towels with 60 year old ladies for 4 hours. I work in the "sterile processing" part of the hospital. It sounds so fucking interesting... I thought I was gonna sterilize stuff, maybe even process stuff. But I do neither. On the side of the room, there was a boombox, along with a smorgasbord of delicious cds. Evidently, 60 year olds listen to Eminem and Busta Rhymes. One of the ladies put in a mix cd of rap music. Oh boy. I sorted hospital utensils with Nelly in the background, talking to me about "Grillz". When the ladies left for a break or something, I turned off the boombox, and proceeded with my work. This foxy chick, named Lynn...circa 65-ish, asked me..

"What happened to the music?"

I lied and said, "It started skipping."

She actually sighs with gratification.

"I hate that shit," she uttered.

If she hates that shit, why were we listening to it for 2 Hours. I don't really know. Lionel Richie. That was the next cd she chose to put in. I found myself singing, out loud with the old ladies. It felt like I was initiated. I felt special. Not.

I also work with this 20-something, virgin dude, who fantasizes about how hes gonna get with the nutritionist in food service. I give him "tips" on how to get women, and he eats it up. He thinks I have a clue, and I thank him for that.


Random link:

I'm mastering this dance, http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XIV7TQQg2Xc. Its the british version of the show, The Office.

First post

I have a dirty keyboard. I want to clean it, but nothing ever gets done because all I do is sit around on my computer, all day. Wasting time is valuable. In my opinion, its better than sex. I've never had sex, so my opinion stands unsubstantiated. However, I'd like to prove my hypothesis. That being said, I would like to talk in a more mature persuasion, about topics that matter.

Recently, I have had two conversations that provoked my inner beast. The first one was with this kid we call, Murray. By the way, very funny kid. Well, we've been planning to write a script for a home movie for a while now, and today we finally get the chance to brainstorm. This is an example entailing the fruits of our labor..

In one of the scenes, I walk into a Pathmark with a raging boner. Asking about how the scene will play out, he IMs me..

stv98: r u gonna get a real boner or r u gonna use a water bottle?
Ataraxia XVI : ill use a pickle probably
stv98: how big is the pickle gonna be

etc etc.

It was odd because I did not feel one ounce of awkwardness saying any of it. In retrospect, I feel as though a decent to medium-sized amount of the stuff I encounter/babble about on a daily basis is worth publishing. An epiphany perhaps, because now I'm gonna record it.

The second conversation included my friend, Scott. I told him I was gonna make a blog. He told me that I wouldn't have anything to write about... implying that I didn't have a life. What a smart fuck. He's right, but to prove him wrong, I'm gonna write anyway. I'll attempt to be funny, with the hopes of establishing incentive to read about stuff that you don't exactly care about... like my dirty keyboard.