Frank Lister has felt weird all day so far. This morning my thoughts were racing (not NASCAR-too redneck but Motocross-just right). I felt all over the place. At one point, my thoughts were moving around so much that I totally didn’t even realize that my headphones had no noise coming out of them (still listening to noise looking for the answers). I didn’t wake up in the wrong spot but It seemed like I just ran out of my brain and carried all my thoughts along with me clanging and banging around like a set of cans on the back of a party crasher car (or a set of balls that don’t work right banging along the side of your leg while wearing corduroy pants). Sorry. Again. Brain a mess. The word jumbled keeps coming to mind (not sure why?) and cobbler. Then, about an hour into work, it just cleared up. Kind of like weather. It was as if something or someone climbed into my ear (hobbits traveling through a valley of weird hairs and lint as tall as trees in order to quest for the safety of the kingdom of Abbalabbador) and took a broom and swept everything up into a pile and then sorted it out and organized it and put it all away. Weird thing is I started to think about things in a whole new way. Bryce came down to talk at the window. Not to sound, you know, but I really like him. Nose bleeds aside, he’s a pretty cool guy and for the most part doesn’t think I am an odd spazz. In his own odd way he is a spazz as well (Don’t touch his paper clips. He will cut a man). It’s weird when someone tells you that you are their only friend. Me. Frank Lister is someone’s only friend. That’s actually pretty sad. Even I have more than one friend. Granted, I don’t speak to them anymore but at least I could call them friends. In fact, if I ever had a facespace I probably would have at least 8 friends. Whatever. OKAY! Stop it! The only friend that I have is Bryce Patterson (or Peterson, I’m not sure which). What is so wrong with that? Nothing. Sure there was a time when I had a lot of friends and I was on top of everything. But that was a long time agao and now I am an office drone who has dreams of being a magician with only one friend who gets bloody noses and I don’t know if his last name is the same name I have been using. There I said it. Go ahead and take a break and laugh.
While you are laughing, think about this: A douche from 15 came down and tripped on his way from my window. Nothing odd about that except that
every time I see this douche, I wish (with all my heart) that he would fall [(specifically when he has his toothbrush in his mouth (more on that later)(wow a parenthesis inside a parenthesis)-does this call for a bracket] flat on his stupid face and smash his eye socket out of place. Why? I don’t know. He is just the type of person I do not like and think bodily harm on. Without a doubt I think this every instance that I see him and this has never happened before but today that douche bag fell and broke his nose. Yes, he broke his nose. Weird shit huh? Shot out all over the place (where did that line come from)? As if someone is behind the curtain.
a crowd gathers everywhere he goes
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