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4/13/2004

Busy life for me a busy life indeed when I move so fast no commas come and all day long the work is done and periods are nay nay nay all I feel I have to say is busy dorks with bad grammar and happy days can't be too far

What a country!
-I found a disc golf park 1.5 miles from our new apartment! It is so beautiful that I want to deflower it. I could walk there if I wasn't a recovering BigMac junkie or if I liked to walk!
I decided the other day when I was on a ride out to R. Pickles parent's (the cucumbers) for a bbq that I really don't like walks. I'd rather stay in a relatively smaller area and jump around preferably with a ball. I have to have a purpose to my leg motion.
"Let's go for a walk."
"Nope, let's do something useful."
-I beat MaxPayne 2 last night. I like running my proper nouns together. BrentKinkade, MaxPayne, BigMac. Very trendy looking.
-For the last 2 and a half months I have taken part in a study to treat people with major depression.
"When a lack of headaches is making your sex life grand and you hate it , call MajorDepression. When you've been laid off and that pizza dough tosser boy job offer is looking good, call MajorDepression. MajorDepression, he makes you say 'Maybe I won't have a burger'."
So, there's a 50% chance that I've been taking a new drug that they are trying out, a 25% chance that I was taking, um, I can't remember it's name ... Luftextarasmiles and a 25% (50+25+25=100) chance that I was taking sugar or not sugar. I won't know for a couple of years until the study is over.
But anyways I feel much better and yes I will have that burger.
Tomorrow I start Prozac.
Also, tomorrow I go see David Bowie and Polyphonic Spree. Personally.
"So, David Bowie, let's see you do Ziggy."
"I'm so hipper than you even though I'm so older. I will smile at you, but after 5 words I speak gibberish. Flick flock puddy spoo."
"What?"
"Tipple crackers."
What was that about? So ... the girl person of the lovely couple (who really needs a much shorter name so now she's Jill, which she really isn't) Jill's dad got sick and she had to go visit him in Atlanta. So, I get to go to see Bowie in her place with Jack (who played frisbee golf with me on Sunday and who I actually outdrove and, i said it (or am about to (parantheses)), outplayed on a few holes).
So, Bowie tomorrow night.
Tonight?
Kill Bill Vol. 1, dorks.
And Costco hot dogs, dorks.
And redheaded kisses, dorks.
And leftover girly Smirnoff drinks, dorks.
But now?
It's time for "More Shit Brent Found".
Here is one more of my writing examples that I found when I moved. This is from creative writing and a bit more structured and punctured.
It's a "Finish the story after Big Teacher Worked at Pizza Place finishes prompt".
The set up was this:
It's Halloween (this was written in the same year, and more than likely on the same day, of the Career Math Halloween entry ... "shovel in head") and this girl is driving home from a party. She is all alone and she stops on a bridge. The bridge is supposed to be haunted. She does not like this situation. She starts to strip. She is super super stacked. She whispers, "Brent, show me the triumph." I whisper, "Does that mean .... Back to reality. The night is dark and the bridge is dark and she reaches in her back seat for her flashlight when all of a sudden she feels a man's head. He he.
(my story starts now)
THE TRAGIC ODYSSEY OF A HEAD ON HALLOWEEN
"Hmmm there shouldn't be a head (he he) in my back seat (he he)." Carolyn thought.
She was right. Her car did come with many options; air conditioning, AM/FM radio, cruise control, but most deffinitely not leathery, bald heads.
"Gasp," she gasped. ("Brent, good writers don't do this." "Yeah, well, good writers don't pee on your face.")
Suddenly the head spoke. Its voice was a raspy voice one that sounded like sandpaper against concrete.
"Gack dat ackgah," said the head.
"Here use some of this," said Carolyn pulling some throat spray from her bag.
"Dack mak ugk," gagged the head. (I should have written "dackmakugked the head").
"Oh yeah, no arms, just a head," observed Carolyn.
"Here let me bring you up front so I can spray it in your throat."
So Carolyn picked the head up and plopped it on the passenger's side seat.
"Say 'ahhh'," said Carolyn.
"Aggkahk," said the head.
She sprayed the head's throat. He smiled. Carolyn liked his smile. "Mature," she thought.
"Hey thanks, babe," said the head.
"Did you call me babe?" asked Carolyn, astonished.
"Sure enough, sweet thing," replied the head.
Carolyn was shocked, she couldn't believe it. She couldn't get a man even if he was just a balding decapitated head. So she leaned over and opened the passenger side door and pushed the head out.
"All men are scum, even dead ones," she said.
Now the head had been through a lot in his day but it doesn't matter if you were made part of the undead yesterday or last century, it still hurts to be shoved out of a Rambler going 60 miles per hour (which was stopped before, Brent).
However, my future self is a picky ass, and as the head hit the pavement it bounced 15 ft. in the air! This caused the head to fall over the bridge and land safely in the river below.
"Thank goodness all that gel I use solidified into a hard rubbery substance on my scalping," said the head, "I may be bald, but I still know that gel is important."
Well, it doesn't take the decapitated head of a rocket scientist to realize that heads sink in the water. The head had to think fast. Suddenly he remembered.
(Here's a good question/lesson for aspiring young writers: when you realize that you have created an impossible situation for your character that doesn't even allow for much of a story do you
a.)rethink your entire piece
b.) brain storm with fellow writers. Your peers are your best resource.
c.) come up with this ridiculous idea)
"I'll use my outboard motor," he exclaimed.
He'd almost forgotten about his signing bonus from the Dark Lord from when he joined the ranks of the undead. So he yanked on the cord (how) with his teeth and the engine started instantly.
"Purring like a kitten," said the head.
Well, the head had a grand time skimming across the surface of that lake. He only wished he had some skis he could strap on (he he) to his chin.
But once again there was trouble. How does a decapitated head reach the choke button and thus cut off the engine? (?) He doesn't (well played, past me).
So the head had no choice but to try and jump the shore and land in some leaves. Well, he cleared the shore all right, but he didn't land in leaves. He landed in a bag of Halloween candy of a tot passing by.
"Hey, Ma, somethin' done landed in my bag," said the little inbred.
"Well, what it be?" asked the mother.
Gazing in the bag the child replied "A head."
"Well, I be ... is it one of them heads of the undead that have been going around?" asked the mother.
"Yes," the child replied, "and he has an outboard motor attached to him."
"Hooey," hooed the mother. "Mug him and take the motor."
"Sure, Ma," said the boy.
So the little child proceded to beat the head with a stick.
"Hey, I'm just a head," said the head. "You could just take the motor."
"Shut up, devil head," said the boy, delivering a rather vicious blow.
The last thing the head thought before he passed out was ...
H A P P Y H A L L O W E E N

Well, dorks, it's time to go do things and stuff. Remember when things aren't working out as planned have someone get beaten with a stick. It will draw attention from your problems and quite possibly land you a motor.


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