Grammar

As most of you probably know I am horrible at Grammar. If you didn't know that go to Michaels buy some paper and a letter sketcher and forger yourself a fake diploma. Because, you just got an education. Well my sad disease started back in the 3rd grade the time where my mind decided that the rest of my life would be better off if I just didn't learn grammar. Here again is another entry to tell my physiatrist about how I should stop trusting my mind and make all my decisions based on the magic 8 ball. (It never steers me wrong I tell you) So I've been getting along pretty kind of ok for sometime with my less than satisfactory sense of grammar until last week when I decided that some words in my sentence need not be said or written. This word that I opted to forget turned out to be the quintessential word "not". Needless to say the universe that was the world of words I was trying to communicate fell to shambles. Now forgetting the word not in a statement can sometimes be corrected by one of those "Oh my mistake, I meant..." clauses. However, I had no such opportunity to get one of these in. So I just had to go with it. Long story short. Things didn't work out. Cards did not fall my way. Lady luck went to the ladies room on me. That stupid cage that is supposed to fall on the plastic mouse in the Milton Bradley "mouse trap game", refused to fall. And I was left yelling "That’s not what I meant!!" across the quad. So, children of young and old. The moral of this story is learn your English even if that means going to some school playground and waiting after school for that lone kid, and jumping him and stealing his Grammar book. Oh by the way if you do that, I have preemptive rights to any Macaroni noodle jewelry you gain in the process. That’s right!

A Truth has been Found

I just had a new profound realization about the world. And this is not one of those don't eat the yellow snow, or people do not like it when you train your cat to use their bed as a liter box realizations. This one is about the nature nay the very ontology of an activity we all do or procrastinate about doing everyday. The seven headed beast of doom is that little excitement filled pass-time called studying. I have noticed this feigns nemesis has lived a double life all throughout high school years. Like Santa clause or the Easter bunny or the monsters in your closet, this object has been the longest run lie that adults have told us for their amusement. Ok the anticipation has pretty much reached a point of no return, so I will just tell you what in the world I'm talking about. I'm rambling about that thing we call studying. Everyone says it helps us do well, well I think it doesn't so there. My evidence is that the things which I don't study for like eating sleeping and classes at 8 in the morning I do the best at without trying. However, when you start studying how headlights change shape as they get closer to your eyes or study how many bricks you can juggle, bad things happen. Therefore, the only logical conclusion is that studying=Beelzebub. That’s right and because I put the equal sign there is no way anyone can refute it. Because as everyone knows and equal sign is all powerful. That is unless you have a "\" to stab through it (but that is entirely beside the point.) Of which, I had none. So.......Everyone should stop studying so I have to study less.

Charity Just for Kicks

It seems an anonymous commenter has informed me that I have neglected one of my prominent benefactors that contribute to my thug life. So with that in mind, I have decided to create a Foundation. Yes that’s right, the first one. And I don't mean a piece of cement. Hardy Har. Garsh. Idiots. But a charity that provides low income white thug children to....how do I say this....get "hooked up with some decent kicks". This Fund will be called "Coleman's Kicks for Kids" No Coleman will not be violently bruising orphan children, he will be picking out shoes that are "Them/ their style" The funds and transportation will be supplied by donors then Coleman himself (or me and pat dressed in his jump suits in the case that he has "to bounce" and can't make it) will tell the kids exactly what shoes they want. And get them no matter the objection. It is a great program to prevent young children from making horrible pedestrial fashion blunders at an early age. I hope the foundation honors Coleman in a way that is truly unique to Coleman. Please consider making your gift. All gifts can be sent to my school address as seen on Facebook. You may write your checks out to cash or my name is fine as well.

An ode

The time has come that I pay homage to one of my true inspirations. You might be imagining in your head something mystical like the great muse that such famous writers as Homer and the band Muse has alluded to as their source of inspiration. However, I say nay. NAY!! It be not him. So your empirical brains might think of magnificent men of old like Abe Lincoln, my great grandfather the bootlegger or the oldest man in the world who I did meet a the carnival once. (I think he died right after I met him. Score!) Again you have overlooked a great man. He is a man of unseen beauty like the firey summer dandelion. You would not really notice him if he was in someone else’s lawn but when he is in yours your like, “Hey Dandelion what do you think your doing here!!! Leave before you cause trouble or worse discomfort!!!” There is only one way to introduce this person after such a great preface and that is best done in song. (Insert two note cord progression)
Oh thy creativity is unmatched
Like Josh’s bombs we snatched.
Exploding with energy
Sarcasm and jokes have bettered me
Without this spark my Saturday’s dull.
And would have less holes in my wall. (Said ghetto so it rhymes with dull)
Pain does not disturb thee
Yes indeed the man is Pat Grady.