Thursday, January 22, 2009

A Few Letters...3 To Be Exact

My head is pretty messed up these days. Not in a euphoric way, or a maddened way (maybe), or in a depressed way, just kind of wacko. Sometimes I think if pretty weird crap, as I'm sure a large part of the general populace does. I do remember Russell Peters once said that the mind of a comedian is weird...because it always tries to one up itself by thinking of something crazier or something. By no means am I comedian, or an entertainer. I'm in no way entertaining, in any way, manner, or form. I'm not even funny, in that really dumbsh*t slapstick manner, or that more clever manner. But, forget that for a second, I mean for a really long time.

Anyway, I once thought of this thing..where I could send myself notes, or letters of some sort back through time. Well, I always envisioned myself sending a series of three letters. Here are the basic premises of each one.


Dear Me,

F*ck You

Cheers, Yourself


I'm just kidding kid. You're great. Not really. But you're alright. Not bad. You're fine. Don't worry about crap. You'll get through it. Things will be ok. Oh, and don't ask her out. Don't. Ask her out instead. The test is easy. You'll get creamed in that tennis match. Don't worry, you'll get them back. She hates you. So does he. They do in general. Cash in that lotto ticket. You don't suck small balls. I don't know if you're rich or if you have a spouse (I'm not that old yet). By now I basically f*cked up the future, which I'm (you're) probably like a cow's udders by now or something.



No, seriously,

F*ck You,

Go Die (it's not like you're not going to anyway).



I know, I know, I know (I Know x3), that's pretty dumb.

I also thought about what would happen if I personally went back in time. It's basically the same thing, but physical...

I'd beat myself up.

Then I'd have a talk with myself while I'm sprawled in the floor in pain.

Then I'd beat myself up again, maybe with a stick or something for fun.

Well there you go. That's it for now on the surreal, batsh*t crazy mind of digital delay.

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