Sunday, January 9, 2011

Call of Writing Duty

   The ending of a wonderful Saturday nite is right now. The Ying for my Yang is seated next to me on the left, I see his right hand hand through my left peripherals gently gripping his cigarette while shooting strangers around the globe through his video game console of choice. I on the other hand am getting lost in the Chicago soundtrack through his giant headphones, Rene' Zelwegger ( or however you spell it) 's voice is serenading me while I get lost in yet another computer screen. But this one has t's that work, it's pretty awesome. I think alot of people take t's for granted. I mean, everyone knows that vowels are important, but there are some pretty damn important consonants that you don't even think of until the moment comes when one doesn't work on your little sister's keyboard that you shouldn't be using since you were supposed to get a refurbished laptop for your birthday in October, but we're still waiting on a screen and it's January. Right? I hate the fact that I am fighting making smiley faces with semi-colons and closed parentheses. See what technology has done to us?? Well, some of us, neither of my two older brothers have ever used semi-colon-closed-parenthases-smiley faces with me. But then again, they also both own the movie Boyz N' The Hood and play in Fantasy Football leagues every year.
            Is it just me or does Richard Gere's singing voice make you just smile like an idiot? I don't know what it is about that guy but seriously, I'm pretty sure his role in Chicago put him at the top of the list with me, and he doesn't look too shabby with gray hair, that's a fear with women. How is he going to look with gray hair???? Hmmmm. Like Richard Gere??? I wouldn't mind. I gotta say, watching the view of a first-person shooter and listening to jazz music are probably two of the best things to ever happen. I keep getting  possessed by the piano rhythms, imagining that each push of a letter is a different key, feeling the music while my left eyes twitches from the recent flash-floods in the brain river. Time heals everything right? What we cannot change do we not ask for serenity? I used to. Now, as I'm kinda growing up, I realize that sometimes you just need to not give a fuck. Uh-Oh! F-word alert! I'm not going to apologize either. Welcome to my generation. The generation that watches Jersey Shore and recites Kanye West Lyrics as a daily ritual. The generation that is single-handedly bringing back the 80's, and last but not least, the generation that watched Ren and Stimpy.
               Well, it's almost five thirty, time to smoke a cigarette, drink some pop, maybe eat some trail mix and fall asleep next to my own albino gorilla underneath my micro-plush heated blanket that he got me for Christmas. Goodnight, or should I say Good Morning.

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