LIFE OF MY STORY

It never fails.  If I eat heavy before sleep, I’ll dream somethin’ special.  It was Saturday night and my best friend Andre took me to eat pizza.  We shared two pies, followed by Gelato, Coffee, and just before sleeping I finished the leftover slices.  That night, I was shipwrecked on an uncharted island.  My crewman were dead.  Boy was I happy when Susan Sarandon showed up.  She explained to me that we could have sex but even better… she knew how to fly.  Human flight was so simple and if I could only remember what she said, it could possibly work in real life.  We didn’t have sex because it’s always been difficult to find her or Sally Field attractive.

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I’m not a martial artist, but I feel confident in my ability to spot a faker.  There I was at the gym doing a little stretch when this anus started to pay tribute to Ralph Macchio.  With two different shoes and the body-type of a 12 year old girl, this guy wasn’t fooling anyone.  He is the gym ninja… master of his own imagination.

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I was seeing a therapist in Santa Monica.  One day after my session, I was forced to think how easy I had it compared to Mario.  I call him Mario because of a certain repetitive and daily activity that is reminiscent of the famous video game plumber.  This guy would sit outside the office building, pluck the flower petals and dry-wash his hair.  As far as I know, he has yet to spit fireballs from a closed fist.

I was on a 15 minutes walk through Venice to find my car at 8:30 AM to make it to my soccer game on time at 9:30.  Distressed at the thought of running and stepping over homeless people, I had on an angry morning face.  One homeless woman said “Hey! You dropped your smile back there.”  It took me a second to compute, but I cracked a big smile within moments only to hear, “Oh there it is.  You found it..”

I consider myself a recovering Catholic but always revert back to the man when I want something. I recently wished for (big surprise) money and a week later noticed $1,400 added into my free student checking account.  No time to ask questions.  Only after 4 sets of Phish tickets, 2 new shiny pairs of Nike SB’s (Limited Editions), and a few nights of excessive high class partying did I realize the money was my student loan refund for next semester.  God damnit.

So I was at a gallery opening tonight (don’t roll your eyes) for some Chinese torture exhibit consisting of a man laying in a life-sized box filled with condensed milk for 7 hours straight and overheard that the new epidemic of the week is gonorrhea, which is floating through the New Town creek in the NYC.  Welcome to summer kiddies.

When traveling back in time, the present is no longer the present, it’s the future because what was once the past is now the present and since it’s your present, you can change your future, which is really your past. So essentially what those assholes that created LOST are saying is by going back and making the past the present and now being able to alter the future we can… oh wait, we’re not going to do anything because they killed off the only guy who can explain what the hell it means.  Great… now were all fucked.

My one roommate almost always forgets about her food. She’ll make tacos and there will be three leftovers and if no one eats them, they will stay in the fridge until the smell draws someone in to throw them away. So I pretty much eat everything she puts in the fridge the second she’s done. Its amazing. It took me a while to figure this out, but after 5 or 6 trays of moldy sweet potato pie or ground taco turkey with guacamole, I figured it out. Life has never been better.