Well, no one really reads this anymore, but oh well. I guess it's good practice for my non-fiction hopes. I do think that eventually I can compile and edit this stuff into some funny blurb type book maybe. Minus my pointless introductions, of course. Ok here we go. Got this idea last night. Heh.

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Good morning class. Today we're going to learn about metaphors. So let's try an experiment. I'll tell you about a commercial I saw yesterday, and when I'm done, you hold onto the first thing that comes to your mind. I'm going to cut off the conclusion of the commercial so that you can formulate what should naturally follow based on the metaphor used.

Ok?
Ready?
Here we go.

It went something like this:

A man dressed rather formally comes onto the screen.
He says, "Just looking at the outside of a strawberry doesn't tell you much. It's limited. You know that it's a fruit, and that it's red but that's about it. But when you bite into it, it's a whole different story. There's a range ofjuicy flavor and experience that you'd never know by just looking at the outside. It's kind of like that when you have a new baby. You think you know what it's like from the outside, but when you actually ___________________, it's a completely different story.








Now, come on. The above is a paraphrase for sure, but it was pretty close. You can't even TELL me that you didn't think that would finish with "when you actually bite into the baby, and experience their unique juicy flavor...".

The way you begin a metaphor, the language you use to set it up makes a big difference. When the guy said the phrase "bite into it" and then immediately started talking about having a baby, it made certain connections in my mind.

Maybe I'm just crazy and like to screw up other people's imagery. But all I know is thatcomparing eating strawberries to having a baby doesn't amtch up too well and just isn't that effective.

But comparing eating strawberries to eating babies... now that is no tonly hilarious but a well matched metaphor. And it's hilarious. And isn't that what life is all about?

Ok. Well i struggled with whether to even try writing this for like 2 hours now, and I think I should- maybe precisely because it seems so pointless.

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'I heard rough housing going on in there, what was that? I'm coming in, are you decent?" Jason's mom called, her voice a shrill screech.

"No wait, i'm naked!" Jason called in response, his state of full dress not apparent to his mother due to the closed door.

God, I can't wait to get our of here, Jason thought to himself, his fists clenching.

"Huh? You can read what I'm thinking? Now that is screwed up, man."

It may strike you, gentle reader, as odd that a hero with as facile a wit as our hero, would take so long to understand so simple a concept as a nararrator.

"Oh screw you paranoid schizophrenia. Here, take a gander at what I'm thinking right now."

Obviously frustrated at his virgin lifestyle in which he still lives with his mother, our hero begins to imagine the gratitous pleasure he could gain from fornicating with his bed post.

"Har har. if you had a body I would fornicate this bed post right up your-"

But our hero's mother chose that moment to knock sharply on the door, and announce her ensuing entry.

"Shhhhh, shut up" Our hero said to the empty air, right as his mother opened the door.

"Oh, so you think i should shut up do you? Well young man, I think that" she began, her anger obviously growing. But then she stopped as her eyes alighted on the half-invisible closet door.

"What is this? When did I tell you that you could go around making alterations to your room? Well? Because i most certainly don't remember giving you permission to go around destroying things in your room whenever you feel the need-"

Yes of course. I "made alterations" to my room. I "destroyed" my closet door with a hammer that left it still solid, and completely even on one side. Are you sure your readers really need to hear all this, O might narrarator?" Our hero thought to himself, having finally caught on to his predicament.

Later that day, our hero went to his local community college.

"Sweet, I don't remember anything! I take it back, youa re one sweet m-fer after all."

"I appreciate the sentiment Mr. Mathews, but I'm not into young men who use vulgarity. Now sit the hell down." SnappedMrs. Stevens, our hero's Lit Comp teacher, as our hero was now standing in the middle of class.

NExt time warn me about that, jackass, our hero thought, sitting down.

Im too lazy to write more in the story for now, plu sI kindof wonder if I can keep up funniness and any sort of plot line while doing weird 4th wall stuff all at the same time for too much longer anyway (or have i already failed at doing some/all of those? lol). So here is a random weird anecdote.

About antifreeze.

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I went to a gas station once at like 3 or 4 morning. Ok I do that a lot. But there was one particular time where it was really late and I went to get gas. And then I realized I needed antifreeze, so i figured I'd pick that up as well. I was in a super morbid mood, but I also felt kindof weird/silly at the same time. So I had this really odd idea. I didn't actually do it of course (as will become apparent my body's continued integrity), but I remember that the thought came to me particularly strongly, and that it reminded me just how strongly i value my own strangeness.

The thought came to me as i was paying for the antifreeze.

I thought- "You know, if i were really tired of being alive, I think i would pay for this antifreeze like I'm doing now, take two steps away from the cashier, open up the bottle...

And then drink it.

All of it.

Then i would wipe my mouth, say "AHHH" and walk out to die in a horribly painful fashion.

But it'd be worth it. Cuz I'd horribly mentally scar some random 7-11 clerk for no reason. Hey giving the finger to the world is cathartic, even for twisted weirdos.

You don't think so? Well fine. Go read some Vvonnegut. Any of his novels. Go ahead, do it.

I'll wait.