Yellow Bus

In case I forget. Cuz I go dumb more than twice a day now.

A certain Jomarrion inspired me to add some nuts to my blog today. (Which nuts? DEEZ) I'm hella stupid. I was so hungry coming back home today, so I whipped open the crisper drawer in the refrigerator to take out some chicken BREAST and it kinda stank. But I was really hungry so I dashed on some olive oil, chopped some garlic n' scallions and tossed that shit in thurr. I stared at the chicken more, and I was like I should consult Mr. Google for this one. So I wrote "expire chicken breast." After I wrote that on the search bar, I decided that this combination of words is pretty hilarious. Expire chicken breast. JEEZ. So I just went for it like the waterboy and cooked it. I even added a dash of pico de gallo. BBQ sawce, tapatio, salad, toast, hummus. It's ova.

Drive-by

What am I doing.

“Jarrett, meet the new guy, Jerry. He’ll be working your shift temporarily.”

“Hey, what’s up, I’m Jerry. I look forward to working with you.”

“Are you serious? Did I do something wrong?”

“No, (laughter) don’t worry Jarrett, it’s not like that. We just felt like trying some new strategies, so we’re shifting things around a little. We do intend this to be temporary. Think of it like a trial period. If things go well, the changes in infrastructure should be changed accordingly.”

“So what am I supposed to do until you make the changes permanent?”

“Take a break. Chill out. Don’t worry about anything. We do value your input concerning the changes we’re making, so feel free to comment. But meanwhile, just take it easy for a couple days (weeks, months, years…). We’ll be sure to keep you updated.”

“Can I keep the plant?”

“Sure, take the plant. Shit, take my stapler. It’s yours.”

“Can I come by to say hi once in a while?”

“Of course! Tell you what, I’ll even treat you to anything you want from the vending machine. How ‘bout that?”

“Alright. I like Sour Patch Kids. ‘Cuz they’re sour, then they’re sweet.”

“Whatever you want, Jarrett.”

DUMB

Me having a blog must be the worst idea in the world. I’m polluting the Internet. Haha, I’m like Rick James walking in Charlie and fuck I totally forgot his brother’s name Murphy’s house and draggin’ in dirt and shit and stompin’ on they couch.

“They neva should’ve gave you niggas money!”

HAHAH, jeez I’m an idiot.

Please refer to chart 3.1

I now work at the Tolman Education/Psychology library in Berkeley, so when I'm shelving, I get an idea of what books the faculty in psychology like to borrow. There's one book, it's kept behind the circulation desk, called the DSM and apparently it's the book of standards for psychologists. It outlines what they have agreed upon in various topics in psychology.

DSM-III diagnostic criteria for schizotypal personality disorder

At least four of the following:

1. Magical thinking, e.g. superstitiousness, clairvoyance, telepathy, 'sixth sense', 'others can feel my feelings' (in children and adolescents, bizzare fantasies or preoccupations);
2. Ideas of reference;
3. Social isolation, e.g. no close friends or confidants, social contacts limited to essential everyday tasks;
4. Recurrent illusions, sensing the presence of a force or person not actually present (e.g. 'I felt as if my dead mother were in the room with me'), depersonaization or derealization not associated with panic attacks;
5. Odd speech (without loosening of associations or incoherence), e.g. speech that is digressive, vague, over-elaborate, circumstantial, metaphorical;
6. Inadequate rapport in face-to-face interaction due to constricted or inappropriate affect, e.g. aloof, cold;
7. Suspiciousness or paranoid ideation;
8. Undue social anxiety or hypersensitivity ro real or imagined criticism.

Word? I have like 3 of thems. What does that make me? I always do things half-assed.

Yadadimean

I’m not myself sometimes. Actions that are done don’t mean I agree with them. I don’t agree with my some parts of my past. And I don’t know where I’m going. So there’s only now, and what I do with it. Mmmm. Orange Adidas’ is what I did.

Since engineering is the science that unites the theory with the real, I’ll figure out something to do with artificial intelligence. Maybe I’ll make an instrument anybody can play. It will read your body motions, face contortions, and tone of voice to decide what kind of tune to play, based on the songs you already have on your head, or maybe the ones already on your computer. I’ll also make a program on your word processor that actually processes your words. You know, like sometimes I just want to say ;;alksdj f;laskjdf ass;alkd jfa;eio ircm snmn but I want it to mean something and make sense to someone else, too. So it will take that and based on what mood your in, determined by such measurements such as sweat on your fingertips, the kind of music you’re playing, your body position in your chair, and the dilation of your pupils, to make something out of those jumble of words. Maybe a clever analogy, or historical anecdote. Then you can actually associate those feelings with the words you read, thus expanding vocabulary and maybe even inadvertently inventing slang. And even though all the slang you invented is different from someone else, if they are entered on a computer, like an AIM chat for example, the emotions would be transmitted by association, since the computer can do that with its AI. Dope. Everybody would be an artist, and everybody would be listening to the music they want to hear. Then musicians will be even more pro, augmenting their musical instruments they already have with AI associative-ness and then have their natural talent to play to make even more creative music. DOPE. I really do believe engineering provides artists with tools of the trade, while pure scientists and mathematicians provide engineers with inspiration. And then the humanities provide errbody with a second opinion. MMMMM

Let’s see how I feel about this tomorrow. Jeez, I must have been trippin’ on acid.

Clean-up on Aisle 4

I wish I could write right now. I can’t seem to express myself.

Here’s a stray thought. Being strapped down tight with your mouth taped up probably wouldn’t be so bad if I didn’t want to krump, spit, or shake ‘dem dreads so much. Or maybe that’s just me.


I tend to think laterally a lot nowadays. Maybe I should stop admiring the coral reefers and come up to the surface to breathe. This blinking cursor is getting on my nurvesss.

Here’s another stray thought. I must be at a thought kennel. ZING. Anyways, I also have the recent urge to fight someone. It’s a pretty strong urge. But not to worry, I haven’t gone all Juggernaut (bless his helmet he got in 4th grade) on anybody’s ass. Well, in a nutshell, I have the urge to start a club where you fight. A fight club. And I’ll start it one night out in a street where I’ll have a heated argument with myself and then start beating the crap out of myself.

It’s a great idea. In fact, it’d make a great cult movie.

So there, some muffled mumbles from under the gag around my mouf.

Brain burp

I just remembered. More than one time in elementary school, I called my teacher “Mommy.” It was weird. I remember stopping and just thinking, “Jeez, why’d I do that?”

And then my teacher would laugh.