I don't know what I'm doing here either.

Expect more disappointment soon.

PLEASE EXCUSE ME PUBLIC

OLD OLD OLD POST I have been much to busy this past lifetime to even pay attention to my love of ignoring everything else to even remember about updating this ( much to the dismay of those who may care.) But There shall be new entries in no time, I assure you this, insane asylum! Nevertheless, I suppose I should update the few people who read this what I have been up to. I just did a Roast Battle at the World Famous Comedy Store! And although I lost, I truly enjoyed feeling the glow of a spotlight on me. Not to mention I said all my jokes right and three of the judges after the match congratulated me on my efforts. It just goes to show that no matter how much I want to be I'll never totally be the bad guy that I tend to see myself as. And the reason I even see myself as a bad guy in the first place is basically because I worry I'm not doing enough here! On the Internets! How silly is that, I ask of you? I assume nobody will be vigilant enough to discover me rambling about nothing here, just like my hero Cantinflas, but alas it all seems okay.

NOT GOING TO SADFISH ANYMORE

I've noticed that there's been a heaping amount of people who look to blogging to sadfish. As if it's a proper way to go ahead and write. It isn't. And I'll figure a way out of my own habits that I do myself. Believe you me.

Writing Prompt: I didn't know what was happening at the time…

A loud knock at the door. 6:00am. I didn't know what was happening at the time. So like an idiot, I sleepily answer "morning. What can I help you with?" Before being slammed to the wall by a triad of policemen whom absolutely hated my guts. For what reason, I am not sure. "You're under arrest for making a girl from the Phillpines uncomfy. This may be due to my ill-timed desire to masturbate. Not my proudest moment, in all actuality. Gonna be a long life, this will.

Writing Prompt: Write a review of a book you never wrote

"The Pulse In My Eye" is truly an eye-opening experience. The premise? A young man stuck in a Suburbia where though women maintain a positive opinion of him, there's something very vile about this individual. It isn't until the 3rd chapter (5 chapters of 100-count pages each) that it's evident as to why (SPOILER: the man is a sex addict.) Though easily labeled words of sexual persuasion are evident, the real danger happens to be how comfortable this man feels about his sexuality. Hyper-sexuality, really. To the Reader, the big giveaway of said behavior is likely an intentional act of malice. But in the author's opinion, I'm sure the actual reason his anti-hero commits some of the "crimes" He does is sadly because he knows not how to really control his libido. That may be his situation for a while. There's a good chance no one will really understand. That's okay. It's not meant to be heard.

Writing Prompt: Difference between earliest and latest death

I think the most major lineage of difference between the first death in my family & the last major death is the amount of time I remember talking to the folk affected by it. My mother's grandma died when I was 7 or 8. She was sad about it but I didn't ask very much about it.

Supposedly because I wasn't so caring. With my father's father dying however…

In that there was a larger quantity of pain resonating in me.

Writing Prompt: The Time You Were The Most Terrified…

The time I felt most terrified probably was when I broke up with my first love. The sour bitterness in me was unlike anything I've ever felt before. A rush of infuriated sorrow that really couldn't wait 'till tomorrow. Tears poured, mouths frowned and pain oozed out the very part of my body parts that held the liquid I would've used potentially to help conceive a baby. I missed her. I still do.