Could it be?

How could it not?

Yes it was. It was indeed. When it occurred, I noted it. And now I'm here to tell you all that it not only could, but did, and will again, and has already.

Face Mecca. Take two steps to the left. Twirl. Clap. Two steps back. Step to the right. Turn around. Swing your leg out. Clap.

Describe it to me.

I didn't take a nap today. It was ludicrously exhausting. I didn't dream that I was in a giant goldfish bowl, surrounded by manta rays. None of the manta rays had NASCAR logos tattooed onto them. That would have been tacky. Or so I have been told.

One of the manta rays didn't swim up to me. He asked me, "Where is the butter?"

I didn't reply, "I don't know. Did you check the fridge?"

He did not assure me that there were no fridges underwater.

A while later, a bear was not swimming up to me. I did not approach the bear calmly and ask, "Where is the butter?"

To which he did not reply, "Can't you read? No solicitors." And the bear did not go on her merry way.

Some day, I pray that I will find the butter. When that day comes, life will not be limited to butter. I will also read a great novel. This will be my endeavor. Until that day comes, however, I prey.

In other news, some things don't have any inherent symbolism. As Freud once said, "I think I'll have just one more and then call it a night."

Or was he?

Yes.  Yes he was.  

The Book of Revelations

From this day forward, this blog will be very religious.  We'll be sure to mention Jesus a lot and use the royal we.  Gaps between posts are not laziness, they are prayer breaks.  Yes, yes, yes.  And no.  No, to that one.  But also yes.  

I would like to offer you a psalm.  But I can't.  

Here is where I would write the psalm:  






It's very pretty.  It's too bad that no one will get to read it again.  

I would like to offer a palm.  But I can't.  

Here is where I would put the palm:  Everywhere.  

I considered eating a lot of food today, but instead I just did it.  Thinking only makes you feel so full.  Jesus can do the rest.  Jesus and food.  Food and Jesus.  

The more animals that I mention in this blog, the more points I score.  How many pants do you have?  Do you have as many as I do?  If so, how did you score them?  

Jesus was a cougar.  

Big and also large

There is a tree growing out of my windowpane.  I think that I will name it Bob, after Bob Dole and Nathaniel Hawthorne, two people who excelled where the other could not.  

A lot of things are repeating today.  Like numbers, for example.  You may find that the same numbers keep popping up in your soup.  I know that the same numbers keep popping up for me in your soup.  There are lots of them.  A few begin with commas.  

Rumor has it that earthquakes can be used to measure success.  It doesn't have anything to do with the maginitude or how many earthquakes.  Success depends entirely upon the soul of an earthquake.  The best kind is mint.  

Today's sky is brought to you by the color red.  That's spelled with two d's and only one h.  

And now a poem:  

Life is made of lots of junk,
But also lots of stuff.  
Sometimes you get junk for your stuff,
And sometimes junk for stuff.  

When I was strolling yesterday
I turned into a bear.  
It wasn't too upsetting, but
It means that I can't type.  

They say bears like honey a lot,
I think they like other bears.  
Seriously, if you were a bear,
Would you put honey before your comrade's life?  

If you really are a bear,
Please write in and answer this question.  
I'm actually super curious.  

Banana Hamsters

Sometimes, the middle is at the end.  Like in a grapefruit.  When you get to the end of a grapefruit, you're really at the middle.  Or, when you get to the middle, you're really at the end.  Either way, you can eat a grapefruit to find out.  

Today's entry is brought to you by the letter H, which starts such words as shoe, golfer, and tremendously.  

You may not know this, but I once grew to forty times your size.  It was absolutely riveting.  I couldn't fit into my shoes, or anybody else's.  

Today's entry is brought to you by the letter H, which starts such numbers as 4, 19, and 2042.  

You may not know this, but ants can sometimes sing hymns.  You just have to listen very closely.  Not too close, though.  They don't like that.  

A study of Bach

Earlier today, I decided that I had grown tired of my heart.  So I had it replaced with a mouse.  

I went to the doctor.  He pressed his stethoscope against my chest and he looked concerned.  

"What's wrong, Doctor?" I asked.  
He answered, "Your heart is squeaking."  
"That is because it is not my heart, it is a mouse."  
"Ah," he replied.  

Content-Free

What is content-free blogging?  

It is love without death.  
Life without suffering.  
Peace without sorrow.  
Heaviness without seriousness.  
Cake without icing.  
Hot fudge without delicious.  
Snowballs without medicine.  

It is the feeling that you get when you open a newspaper and realize that you don't have your glasses on.  
It is the sensation of knowing everybody in a room except for one guy sitting in a corner.  
It is the revelation of delicious cheese.  

It is cheesecake without icing.  
It is hot fudge without suffering.  
It is heaviness without blogging.  

Something in another language would sound totally serious here.  
Like a puppy full of cement balloons.  
Like a metaphor that has run its course.  
Like a simile that has hijacked the metaphor.  
Like a blog-post that I don't know how to end without sounding too serious.  

You are nothing more or less than all of the words that you don't know how to spell.  

It is spelling without clogging.  
It is clogging without reason.  
It is reason without season.  
It is season without treason.  
It is treason without shmeason.  

Janet Jackson reads this blog.  What else do you have in common with Janet Jackson?  

A Violin Made of Cake

Such an instrument would probably fall apart and become unplayable.  But delicious.  

There are no hidden messages here.  Move around, folks.  

Torbital.

Like an orbit, but with torsion.  

The word of the day is Z.  Some sample Z words:  

Zylophone

Zoron

Zerene

Zalad

Zuper

Zis

Zat

Zee oZer

Zwing

Ziss boom bah

Zneeze

Zeven

Zix

Zree

Zoup

Zurich

Zelephant

I forgot what a tog is, but I'll never forget you.

Somebody read my blog.

Unprecedented.

You may leave comments, but keep it content-free. And cryptic.

In the year 1892, Jon Smith landed in America and invented colors. At first, he only invented three colors - Red, White, and Blue - which thus became the colors of the American flag (Canadians, impatient, made their flag before blue was finished). Soon, it was discovered that by combining these colors in just the right quantities, one could create the sound of horns, hot bass lines, and switch the downbeat and the upbeat. And thus the age of big pimpin' arrived. The next year, Ben Franklin discovered electricity, creating the color yellow. Then Ben Franklin was bitten by a radioactive Mexican wrestler, which caused him to grow big and powerful, creating the color green, which allowed for such innovations as Godzilla, frogs, and green tea, which had previously been colored purple.

Would you make a log of my blog?

I will make a blog of your log.  

What is a tog?  

Neat.  I'm going to use that in conversation, starting now.  

$39.79

Oo.  There are gummy bears on the floor.  

Gummy bears originated in Germany, where they coated real bears in sugar.  This method was found to be ineffective, so they tried shouting at the bears to lower their self esteem, only to find that this process made them no gummier.  Fortunately, these laughably obsolete methods were cast aside, and gummy bears today are procured in much the same way as they have always been:  through praying.  

New Post

Some of the most helpful advice I ever received was, "You can never use too much butter."  I can't say it was very helpful, but when I weigh it against everything else, it stacks up rather well.  

I feel the need to actually chronicle my various adventures in here.  But that would threaten this gloriously content-free atmosphere.  Which is probably against the law.  My law.  

Also, I haven't had any adventures.  

La.  

This is just like a game for me.

If I keep posting, maybe I'll get the high score.  

I can really do anything.

This one's about trees.  

I like trees,
But some are full of trees,
And although I think that that's just dandy
And sometimes even handy
I question
That God's decision to allow bees to inhabit arboreal life was the best one.  

Now that all of my personal information is on the internet, I guess I'm a wanted terrorist.  Oh, well.  

How many tags can I put on a post?

Let's find out!

First Post

I really like cats.  But when cats aren't around, isn't that a bad thing?  To express my feelings, I wrote a poem on the subject.  Actually, I am composing it on the spot now.  But I am convinced that it existed in my head long before I was even born, as an imprint in the universe.  Such was its greatness.  

I think it's rather unimportant that

Right now I write a poem about a cat.  

There's already a lot of angsty poems

Written by angsty teens in trailer homes

That wind up in a blog, few of them good

(Guess now they know why they're misunderstood).  

This poem isn't about cats at all.  

And, starting now, it doesn't even rhyme.  

I just wrote a poem about a poem about a cat... if you can call it a poem.  After all, can such an artistic achievement be ascribed to a simple noun?  I think not.  

I have nothing witty or interesting to say.  But I'm still going to make another post.  

All the good blog names are taken, and all of the cool people who took them posted once and never came back.

That's why I'm going to post twice.  Once now, and once more right after now.  

The only label for this post will be booyah.  All caps.  Followed by two exclamation points and an ampersand.