Dumb Deux

I’m following Mark Gardner’s lead and jumping to blogspot. Why? Because I have this awesome fantasy of making thousands upon thousands of dollars by typing invaluable pearls like, “I eat pretzels with a sandwich not because I like them, but because they help fill me up so I don’t have to make another sandwich! LolZ *Flushed Cheeks Emoticon*,” into a world wide web blog machine. Hand over Fist Broseph, Hand over Fist.

Hand Over Fist originated as a naval term. It referred to pulling a rope hand over hand, quickly and continuously. I just learned that from my internet porn machine. "A lusty young Man attempted to go down (hand over hand, as the Workmen call it) by means of a single Rope." http://www.phrases.org.uk/meanings/hand-over-fist.html

Awesome. So, how am I going to make my millions on this blogger or blogspot or whatever I’m doing? I’m going to infest it with madd ads from google and everyone is going to click on them and I’m going to stand to profit, just as a lusty young man such as myself should. Ohhhh Fuck yeah, donkey, ohhh, fuck yeah. The preceding was a transcription of an exchange between myself and my lovely Icelandic wife during a normal evening at the villa I lease with the K I have earned from google ads.

So here are some tidbits about myself that you will not be interested in at all.

I’m Frank.

I’m Twenty-Two Years old.

I work and I go to school for English.

I transpose numbers and letters which is a pretty silly ailment for someone who thinks they are going to school for English.

I was diagnosed by a relative so I guess that is why that particular problem was not really addressed.

I have no idea how to use grammar, again an admirable trait for an English major. See that comma between grammar and again in the previous sentence? I’m pretty sure there is no good reason for that to be there, but I play by ear, player, play it by ear.

I don’t really think anyone knows how to use grammar. I don’t believe it’s existed since the 1940’s and even then it was just drummed up to drive anti-communist fervor in the great 48.

I believe if you know how to use grammar properly you are nothing but a freedom hating pinko. Diagram another sentence for me Sacco.

I don’t talk often, sometimes.

Often and sometimes work together well to negate whatever you just stated

“Bernadette, why aren’t all the DM’s cced in the email regarding optional castration and Ovaltine hot?”

“Well, my cat has cancer and often sometimes vomits blood on my monitor and it hardens on the screen and while I can make out most of the screen, some of the smaller controls like CC are distorted by coagulated cat cancer vomit blood. I keep my cancer ridden vomiting cat somewhere near this computer screen in this office. I discussed this matter with my shop steward and he okayed it.”

“BERNADETTE!” http://hypem.com/search/Bernadette/1/

_{See how Bernadette avoided} a potentially hostile work situation by simply employing the words often sometimes and making use of her shop steward? And boy howdy, how did Bernadette make use of her shop steward! And as with most things in life Bernadette made use of the Shop Steward effectively and often until it no longer excited her because, Bernadette never had a strong maternal figure who could teach her how to love *bastard unloved child turned attention starved harlot with multiple STDs who although she keeps them in check and medicated still occasionally has one too many libations at the behest of an oh, too diligent barkeep, and spreads her emptiness by way of an itch and a drip to unlucky suitor sitting two stools to her left later that night in a pathetic display in the backseat of his late model Hyundai good gas mileage but he got screwed on the interest because he didn’t have any credit and in the back of the said interest bearer briefly only elongated by her occasional pauses to wail along to India Arie songs and swear that she’s going to make it out to next year’s America’s Got Talent Auditions- emoticon*

I don’t talk much not because I don’t like you. Really, it’s more, well, I’m not sure I feel comfortable talking about it in such a public forum. It’s because of an operation I had as a kid. A lobotomy. Sort of. Really, they just removed my whole brain. I’ve got some postcards with pictures of Mount Rushmore and old timey bicycles with the one big wheel up there in my head, but that’s about it, no brain. Really when I smile, laugh, cry, yell, or make a sexual advance towards you I’m just after one of those big tins with the four different kinds of popcorn inside. Utterly innocuous. Click on all these ads and the lady who lives in the house I use the bathroom in says I will get pieces of paper Christopher Columbus drew green all over and I can take them to the place with the bathroom that has the bar on the wall and the greasy balloon machine and get one of those big tins with the four different kinds of popcorn inside. Best of Tomorrows.