Sittin' at the Bus Stop at 1st and King Edward Eatin' a King Size Whatchamacallit Bar

Dear Peter Beck and David Banner

He seems negative. What's wrong with being black?! I'm naive! My name is Greg! Native American people are the worst people. I hope they are all gone soon, without a trace, and everyone forgets them.
I'm in love with the Sun. Her name is Jesus.
Goodbye. *Power down sound*

Best Worst Band Names

Did I Really Beg God to Kill Me?



Black Anal Cunt       [ anal cunt has been taken ]


bloody infected   infested   full  of  the  worst .  .   and   pain 


and   hate  .  .  .



N. Rape Forever! YAAY!



Fucking ... Babies with AIDS



No Pressure



Just Fucking Let Go, Just Let Go



The Quilted Northern Apocalypse Show



There's Gonna Be Such Diarrhea in 2 Seconds



And You Said You Were a Magic User



Janine Got Diagnosed Today



Ejaculate, AKA We Are Cum



Bold Primary Colored Afro Tits

Creative and

Hi

I am afraid of someone seeing me typing my thoughts onto this screen. Business Center at Arts at Turtle Creek Apartments.

It is getting close to winter, which I have usually experinced as temperate and pleasant. I love the chilly weather. I am going to live forever. I can do everything.

I am listening to If These (Vaginal) Walls Could Talk

I am so afraid afraid of people and myself and my thoughts and existence and God and Truth and Everything and Tiny-ness and.

I am SO creatice. I love myself so much. I love being me.

I meant Creative, but I want to Practice and Get Much Better..... I just lofe, you, I can do it, Just Look At Me And Feel Something

Don't call me anorexic
I don't want to know the truth
I want to stab you in the chest
I am only what I prove to you

I dunno how to say this, or how I should say this, or if I should say this, or if this can be said

I take walks. I listen to young white men mmmble into microphones and strum and pick guitars.

I mean it is all    Jeffrey Lewis.  A real person..... Tom Hiddleston


Country Lounge,  Exposed Heart Tissue


Bleeding Blood, Nouns are Capitalized. I wanted to buy some Bailey's. I should eat.

Work Email

1.       please do not scare children with a ‘policy’ statement.

City resources are used for the second job.

a child or a cookie at a public community meeting – a child’s

$50 or more from a single

source during a 12-month period

Outcomes depend largely on the experience of the surgeon

A site with a URAC, HONCode or TrustE seal

STD benefits are approved by the carrier

the result is too much sugar (glucose) in the

blood

U.S. workers say they feel overwhelmed or overworked

emotionally prepared and making sure you have a solid

Most of the philosophy that has lasted has arisen from some pressing motivation to justify a deeply felt belief

(and a popular Thanksgiving joke)

wondering whether it was not love she had lost so much as a modern form of respectability

state government
men
navy
mathematics
college sports
running
cats
romance
economics
terrorism

november 17th revolution day
marriage week 
atlantic city classic car show 
hockey east championship

difficult to get him to answer basic question about who he was, and how many dimes in a dollar.

n. I just wanted to

be the one in one thousand

that writes to say something

nice.

you are no longer assigned to the following shift:

  Saturday, Feb 14, 2015

    Administrative Assistant

    9:30am to 5:15pm

    7.25 REG / 30" L

A city is a relatively large and permanent human settlement. Although there is no agreement on how a city is distinguished from a town within general English language meanings, many cities have a ...Wikipedia

we’re lazy or bad people

but growth is revealed through change.  Don’t be afraid of the new

did she won’t medical assistant

21DADMOVIE

share to spare the air.

I suspect the vultures will deal with it before then.

Thyme Grilled Chicken Breast: You have been nominated

CD JAZZ METH

Feels like 79°

Broken Clouds

Wind 7mph 
Humidity 82%
Pressure 29.89"
Visibility 9mi

HI SIR; I am tunisien,living in tunisia and and I have a painting from G.GUidi original. I want to sell it .Can you help if you are not unterrested.
BEST REGQRDS
kedhira larbi

EMPTY- IGNORED- FRIENDLESS?

Every Good Boy Deserves Favor and Professional Foul

It appears that when the youth left the meeting room they left the door open and subject discovered the goods.

10. Type the last name of the employee, click once on the employee’s name, and then click Add. 
11. Click once on the employee’s name as it appears in the list of names to highlight it.
12. Select the desired permissions (typically, the permissions associated with "Publishing Editor").
13. Click OK.

deep scratches

Broken DVD

Missing CD #3

Missing DVD

Missing DVD #3

deep scratches

deep scratches

Broken DVD

Broken DVD

deep scratches

no disc/wrong disc

Broken DVD

Broken DVD

DVD #2 Broken

Broken DVD

cracked DVD

‘AFSTWOMAIN’, a.k.a. ‘10.90.52.107’

2.     Are beautiful, interesting and comfortable places for people.

How was the was the mayor of Jamestown VA

huglekultur, Ollas and wicking bed in action!

Mostly I have water or bottled tea.

Jim Hungerford

Sent from my iPad

Foxglove beardtongue

One of them said, he was going to bring his mom to put a physical harm on all three of us. Bonita said, "your just making it worst

About 115 pounds of that gator was a deer in the gator’s stomach.

World party! [sound recording] / Music for Little People (Firm)

She believes the man is living here at night.

Trees are blooming along 49^th street in Hell’s Kitchen.

Studio 1A, home of Today

• Panamanian jockey
• Japanese actress
• English cyclist
• American football player
• Canadian heptathlete

We have 3 flavors of Explora

At around 11am there was loud music was casting from outside the Library on the hallway corridor.

The Locksmith

THE LOCKSMITH

One

 Newspaper in his lap, ice cream by his side, lying in his reclined chair, his eyes half open, he gazed wearily at the grey snowy tropical island on the decrepit television. “$2999” appeared on the screen. Five thousand thoughts went through Harold Richmond’s mind after seeing this and before nodding back off to sleep.

The sun was still out the next day. Harold longed for another cool, cloudy day. He walked to work down a cracked sidewalk. When they saw Harold Richmond, the people across the street were glad they were. It would be all right. He would be indoors soon. His miserable existence was only a footnote in the happy, exciting lives of everyone else. He was generally a kind and reasonable person. Maybe if someone saw this in him, he would not have been in the state he was. At the top of the steps to the shop, Harold’s boss, Carl Horowitz, waited impatiently.
The day was put away as every other, and Harold walked back to his apartment to go through his nightly routine. In a replica of last night, Harold made a decision for his life. Inspired by the same $2999 tropical island vacation commercial, he vowed he would get away from this sadness. No money in his possession made dreams more difficult to make real. He had a job in a trusted profession. He would suddenly become a lot less trustworthy.

Two

The next well to do couple to come crawling to the mercy of Mr. Horowitz and his services were named Grollinger. Harold argued with himself every second of the day and night, which was a little more than usual for him. He finally decided that trying to do something, even if he failed (even if it was illegal), would be much better than doing nothing at all. He made one too many keys for the old, stranded pair and slipped it into his front pocket. That night he sat alert and upright in his living room staring at the key as he turned and twisted it in front of his face in the dimness of the only light coming from his kitchen ceiling. He had overheard a conversation between the shriveled, rich kooks. They were to be out this night until midnight. His stopwatch showed 10:39. He had better get going.

He drove mischievously to the shining mansion in the moonlight. He’d brought two black bags with him. Scared to death he slipped the golden key into the great brass lock. Quickly and surprisingly skillful (to himself), he packed the bags with valuables and left before 11:09. Hitting every other pawnshop he saw he cashed in and earned more than he had expected. Filled with a long-forgotten excitement, Harold tensely but under control made his way to the airport where his vision of apparent happiness awaited his arrival. He sweated nervously all of the way on the jet liner. Stinking like a pig, he departed the craft, taxied to a hotel, showered and lay on one of the double beds. Satisfied by the situation and relieved of his assumed safety, he gazed wearily with half open eyes at a television that did not work so well. It had begun to rain. The grey snowy static and its noise, suddenly realized by Harold, filled him with a deep, dark depression. He was where he had been when he decided to do something about it. He was tired and closed his eyes completely to try to bring on the sleep that would be an only remedy to drown out his melancholy.

Three

 Just on the brink of a beginning dream, a hard tapping on his hotel door, numbered 113, viciously awoke Harold. In the midst of all his panic, bewilderment and fear of the hand that had made the noise Harold sprang off the bed knocking off a lamp beside it with his knee. Another knock sent the frantic Harold racing for the window in the bathroom in the back. He forced it open with some trouble and began the impossible task of squeezing though it. As he hoisted himself up on the toilet the door was violently flung agape. With one arm and a head jutting out into the cool ocean breeze, Harold was shot twice from behind, and falling back into the bathroom and slamming the back of his head into the hard-tiled wall, he was knocked unconscious.

When he awoke the next day in a hospital bed, he still felt the fear and panic of the night before but also a disabling pain. People in white came and went, caring for him as they saw fit. He was gradually improving. Soon he was out of bed and in a wheelchair. It was many days later that he discovered he was still at the beach and that he had not seen the sun once save for the first night in the hotel when he had his head out the bathroom window and he caught a glimpse of it rising in the rain. One day on a request he was wheeled outside on a concrete platform. He was pointed at the sea. He felt a cool wind on his face. The water was dark and turbulent, and the sky was grey and serene. As he gazed up at it, he smiled for the first time in a very long while.

Free write Twenty [2006 or 7, Ms. Roffol]

Along a dry creek bed in Missouri, ran a small brown fox. A dog bark sounded in the distant. Below two dead leaves, an ant poked out and crawled for all salvation. I ordered some chicken. For a while after dinner, I walked over across the street to Brett’s house. I knocked on the door and she let me in. At 11:14 at night, we finished the movie I brought. “I don’t think it’s weird.” she said. I looked around at the things in her bedroom. Her father looked stern and un-accepting to me, like I feared he would. I was excited to be there. I thought I would never have the courage to put myself in that position. At one quarter until twelve. I felt very sad. I wasn’t talking. Every silly little thing I wished I’d say seemed pointless to say, and I just thought about it and said nothing. I curled up into the night and cried.

In the morning, I hate my body and my mind. I went into the opposite bedroom and lay sideways on the top bunk bed. In a few seconds, I became restless and moved around and sat up. I saw a cat come in through the open doorway. Lawn one road. I sat up. beginning the latest intro i became one what with my body i felt like i did and any other way walking down the road and then the footsteps on the empty street we too loud for me to forget while the old hard shops and greyness of the quiet music sky clouds grey gory insane games and inciting a bull in a red vest beside the tree on the hill in the fields in spain crazy for being so fast in the winter wind blows my hair up to the top of the mountain in the snow for two minites is not long enough to be fire in the fire was so hot and uncomfortable in the dinner evening it was too slow to be said i cant talk and the wind was too strong to hear something important to me.

Another Computerised Journal. [typed sometime between 2008 and 2010]

I laugh when I think about the stupid things I have done. It seems, though, when I make a decision to do anything, I end up thinking it is stupid. Sometimes, though, I cringe at knowing that it was actually me, and I actually did and can never undo that stupid thing, like going to my senior prom and actually trying to dance to make a mockery of myself and everyone at my senior prom.

I was reminded of prom by reading the First Pages of John Green’s. of vlogbrothers on http://Youtube.com/, Paper Towns. Everyone can only write about his or her own life.

We only watch movies. They don’t help us understand life any more. We shouldn’t waste our time with these short meaningless movies. We should spend time with long detailed research projects. We should be like Noam Chomsky.

I got a call from the State Park yesterday. Last night in bed, I thought, Okay I have four full days to worry about what I am going to do wrong that will ruin my chances of having that job.

I have no practice. At anything. I can waste time very well. Like this. Typing this is fantastic waste of time.

Okay, so I’ll keep at it.

I am fed, clothed, sheltered, rested, and free of illness (perhaps), so what then? I can do whatever I want? I should help others into similar situations. I find that admirable but difficult. I can ponder existence if that is what I feel like doing. You can go help the needy if that is what you need to do. Is that what you want to do? It gives you pleasure, but not the same as watching a funny movie. Existentially rewarding it may be. Closer to the meaning of life it may bring you. Is that a place you want to be though? Yes, maybe.

Seeking immediate pleasure is a waste of time. Who has it figured out? What is this path of a life that is correct? It is more than just choosing this right path or this wrong path. There are no paths, just an infinite field. How can I say that people do more than just what they do with no reason or explanation?

It is hard only because you are you and you have to be you.

Okay, why not, I’ll let this explain anything.

Goodnight, kjfdbabne’onbflx.djofagh[r vr85yu9m8av h r/hn vaorng’ zag ‘abn

Multiples of 11

                niggas   are    real  


     I      shall    get     as    real      as      you     want     me     to        get



    we        fuck       up        real          good



    we         fuck         our          messs        is         so          real





can        you      hear       alll        the        c h u r n i n g          of          

the          waves            

the          noise        

the                pizza



             fuck                  alll                    buttt                  usss

Untitled [ First Class A Plus Plus Plus ]

Everything you say and do

Everything you think and are


That was a retarded request


Hair today and garden tomorrooww


What do you think about life?

Are you Jewish?

Old man in a straw hat bringing in the trash cans

I let the dogs out, and they ran to the edge of the yard barking at you


What will we be?

Have you died?


Bill Murray and Wes Anderson


I hope I can handle it


Will it be too much

Is it too much


I am listening to 3rd Planet by Modesto Mousu.


I recorded myself dancing in my underwear to Genius of Love by Tom Tom Club and Lisa by Don't Stop or We'll Die

I watched it back right after

It is upside down, but I set my phone down and angled it so I could watch it flipped


means nothing

it is what

it is


i am a part of this



this


Now I am listening to Gravity Rides Everything ... Do



I do not have a problem



I do knot know khow to khelp kyou



Hi, I am by



G.

Jeffrey Cox and I

Hey, it is crazy. I remember doing a weird skit or something with props in our destination imagination group. Silly weird good times... I've been doing all right I guess. Thanks for asking. How bout you?

13 hours ago

Alright you guess? What does that shit mean? What you up to these days?.

a few seconds ago

I work part time at the Austin Public Library, and I like to seek media that I hope will help me slightly better understand existence and meaning, and I like to write or type my thoughts out, and sometimes share them with others, such as right now. I get scared and anxious a lot about a lot of things, and I have been seeing a therapist twice a month for 6 years. I struggle with uniting my body and my soul, which I think is the real me.................................................................. So, that's kinda where I am at [: I am usually quite content, even if I am often overwhelmed. ...................... What do you do?

"C" Assignment Story

                            He used map colours to draw the forest. He stole through this forest, and when he came out to a field, he was wet, and he carried a flat-screen plasma Dell computer monitor. He smiled at the sun that was setting. A flying animal was flyin' at him from the northwest at a declining angle of 18 degrees. When it got near him, it turned and flew into the sun and burned black. When the bird went by, Timothe dropped his monitor, and it disappeared as it touched the grass that was leaning 78 degrees from the ground. Timothe exited the drawing, and when he sat back in a chair, he felt like a giant one thousand times bigger than a normal sized human. His clothes were black, and he thought of the flying animal all black after it flew into a sun. He almost cried, but he was too scared. A teacher was talking about a bathroom, and two children laughed. Timothe lowered his head onto the wood flat desk in front of him. A white cloud rose beneath him. Falling through it, he saw and felt a soft, green tree as his hair grew shorter and lighter. He felt like a a good boy, since a mushroom told him so. Soon though it was dirty and dark, and he has scared again but in a different way. He almost cried, because he did not want to die. He thought of his grandmother, who he thought was dead. He saw her in the darkness. She was gone after a moment, and Timothe saw dark yellow and orange spots in the darkness. He thought of Julia, who was a girl, who said, "I'm sorry," when she learned that his grandmother was dead. It made him sad to think of his grandmother all dead and in darkness for eternity, so he crawled out of a sideways hole and was not dirty. He thought of what grass feels like but could not remember exactly. Today he wished was over. Completing a round trip to collect water for people. If he helped like that, like he had seen in movies, he might not feel so useless. He ate and sat and breathed and got uncomfortable and strained and made pain for his muscle and bone. Carla worked at a bookstore and did not bother herself or waste her time with impossible dreams or fantastic wishes. She saw Timothe from behind the checkout counter at a bookstore, while she was working. Jane was his mother, and he followed her into the store and walked slowly around looking. Carla did not like his face, but she thought he was interesting, because he was weird. It was sunny outside, and some of the sunlight shined into the store. It was Friday, January 11, 18163. Timothe kicked the bottom of the door frame as he was leaving the bookstore after his mother. Carla glanced at him, and she thought he tripped. She almost laughed, and then her left eye felt dry. She rubbed it with her left hand. She had purple nail polish on. She looked down 41 degrees with her right eye at a book titled, "The Long Loss When We Watch the Summer Pass on Our Decks, Porches, or Patios." Ten feet outside the store, Timothe rubbed his right eye with his right hand as he noticed a long green leaf of a plant with his left eye. Julia was walking on the corner by a different kind of plant 12.352 meters to the northwest of Tim. She lifted her left foot with a Nike shoe on it. The reason she was there was because she was looking for her mother, who

Little Green Coke People

[ Read this in the voice of a sick coughing person ]

Oh, I forgot the wax over the... sun can, and I pulled out the crane from the sidewalk, and she said...

Uh, I'm not even here right now, so I built a straight bridge perpendicular to the ground right in the middle of the road.

It was 30 feet wide and 8,000 feet tall, and if you got in a car, you could use your legs and walk straight up the bridge, and when you got to the end, you would just dip down into some crystal clear water, crystal cool water, and the water would eat your legs off, and your little bony nubs right under your butt would walk along the little bright coral Legend of Zelda, Sonic the Hedgehog beach front property, and two fish made of octopuses would attach to your bony thigh nubs, and you would be able to walk 3000% faster, and you would walk all the way to the store, where you could chop your left hand off and use it to buy a 67 ounce bottle of Green Coca-Cola, and you would unscrew the top, and the carbonation would melt your eyeballs, and so they would droop down off your face and also kinda freeze, or then they would become semi-solid and float and flap in front of your face like dog tongues, and then you could see 1700% better, and then you would pour the Green Coke.

You would stick the top of it in your bellybutton and drink it all through your bellybutton, and then your bellybutton would eat the bottle made of plastic, and then a little hole in your left side would open up, and a little factory would pop out and process the plastic and turn it into little people, who represent Lemmings from the video game of the same name, and they would be able to walk on the air and go anywhere, and they can create any type of matter, that does or doesn't currently exist, and they can replicate themselves, and so they can go anywhere, and they can get as small as they want to, but they can't get bigger than 6 inches tall and 2 inches wide, so they can go anywhere, though, and it only takes them 1 over X amount of time to get there, and they can turn their bodies - they start with little green bodies made of Coke plastic, but then they can turn themselves - they can produce anything real or imagined out of their bodies, and they do this about half their time, 50% of their time, exactly 50% of their time, and the other 50%, they're either resting or having social interactions for pleasure, and so that's basically what reality is for us, so, and these little green Coke people never die, and they never change, unless they want to, and they all waited in line to meet GOD HIMSELF, and they all grabbed onto the hairs of HIS long white beard, and they shake GOD'S hand 50 at a time.

50 of them shake GOD'S hand at one time, and GOD invites them back for some pasta salad and tuna fish, and then my legs grew back, but it felt like the blood inside was made of acid and lead, and so I just tacked them up to the sky, and all my insides spilled out of my mouth *burp*, and I just grabbed onto two birds, who were passing by on their way to The Watering Hole, which is the name of a night club on top of OPRAH'S mansion, and I just grabbed onto their tail feathers, and I was ripped away and just floating, and each bird weighed about 1.1 pound, I mean, each bird weighed .1 pound, and I weighed .11 pounds, and my clothes all turned brown, very pale brown and became tatters, and my penis and I became about 3 feet long, and my penis was also 3 feet long, and I began to cry purple bubbly tears, and it landed on top of all the houses and everyone's yards and all the buildings everywhere and on all the land and the roads, and the bubbles popped up into everyone's faces, and there were these clear gases that were released all over the place, and it made everyone feel like they had just kissed someone, and they smiled and kinda laughed, because they knew they hadn't, but

it still felt like they had just woken up, and they all gave each other high fives and tapped each other on the butt and then just all held hands and walked in unison to the next thing they had to do today.

Goodbye

To Live and Die and L.A. and Summer Sun at Conception and November and Colors and Awake and Eat

...

Am I obsessive or compulsive or disordered?

"slitely bored and severely confused"

or just scared for no reason? [readon] Not thinking

Wrong thinking %%^)&T^-+*-/-&^E#*+D:+

Her hands. Whole Eye

Sexual, Interpregnate. I was conceived

March 1989. I got my Period in 1999.

I laid with a woman in 19-2000-10.

I had 3 Friedeggs and 2quarts of OrangeJuice

mixed with Vanilla Almund Milk.

I laid the Sunday Paper out on the Patio Floor.

I extracted My Mother and Father From me.


I was 25. I had 34 years left. I had no idea.

I married a BLACK woman with 14 children;

she was 42, born in '42.

She made bananas Professionally.

TheyallwereYell OW excepttheGreen+Brownones.

Her children's names were = Kat, What, Blue,

Forbes, Queet, White, Es, Sevent, Q, Weep,

Quiet, Ship, Quit, Geoff, and That's it.

The Cock has sex wiff all of Them.

They are Ants, and they gave me warts and E Coli.

I ate cakes. 7 of my kids left Earth for other Planets.

I Printed 80 million Pages of my Personal Journal.

I ate 4 billion Planets. I lost my head 8 times,

got new heads, more than 1 or 2, or 3 at once.

I mapped the ocean floor from a bacterium's Perspective.

I ate 101 billion galaxies and multiverses.