dysfunctional

my brain is missing something... beer, late nights filled with, yelling, slurring, and swearing like a sailor. Am I growing old? No I cant be... the other day I had a long conversation about how some fat people have a front butt. And if they have to buy pants for that. I have just gotten off the trail of the crazy band wagon for a reality check and then it up back in to the driver seat for the horizon. Or some shit like that.

Spending so much time by myself has made me feel a little cuckoo. You know, you start feeling like an old person. The ones that talk for inappropriately long amounts of time when they get half a chance. I might find myself keeping the mail man from doing his job and think back later to how I ended up telling him how, as a child, my favorite color was a mix of green and purple, and how this later.... well I won’t go into it because I can’t become an old-person-esk social retard.

To fight this 'old' thing I have been doing several things. One; googleing words. When googleing the word bannana (my first attempt at spelling banana) I got 47,000 hits. You may be surprised at the number of people who made this same 'simple' error. I, on the other hand, was surprised by the lack of people thinking and writing about bannanas. Until of course I saw the 'Did you mean: banana?', damn it google, you got the best of me again. The made up word crong (I cant remember what I was trying to spell) got 18,800 hits. Urban dictionary states that Crong has four meanings; crap-wrong hybrid, meth bong, crazy strong, and boner. How the last one ties in beats me but I decided to use all four in a sentence.
My buddy passed me the piece, I took a hit and leaped up yelling " Crong bong, it was a freaking crong!” immediately falling back as the effects took over, leaving me so crong that I took a brick and broke it over my giant crong.
Well anyways you should try using all of them and see how you do it.

Today I discovered that I am 9 and 1/8 inches thick at my widest point . I found this out after another activity to stave off this whole 'old' thing; running. Notice that it is not jogging, something an old person does. Running in itself is not that unusual, for me or anyone else, but it was littered with occurrences that lead to me determining my thickness. As I was running, much faster than old people do, I saw a bug, a bee of some kind to be precise, not that unusual. As we were headed for a collision I tried to dodge, but due to my high velocity, I missed. Which is unusual, noting my cat like agility. Anyway the bee, now stuck in my locks of hair, was hit by my hand’s natural reaction to wipe it away, causing the bee to sting me. I instantly collapsed in pain. It was no bee, but some kind of super mutant bee that had been designed to inflict freakish amounts of pain on the human race, making my hand swell to 9 and 1/8th inches. Well ok I guess it did not happen much like that, but the bee was a freak. Looking at my finger now I don’t see a sting so it may not have been a bee, and I guess it did really have anything to do with my width anyway, maybe unusual for bees or bee like things. When I returned from my marathon length sprint, I found the house locked. This is not unusual, Josh, always locks the door every time he leaves the house, I am constantly being locked in. Nor was it unusual that I did not have a key, some may find it surprising that I am locked out/from/in many things all the time. I shared your surprise for the situation. After walking around the house I discovered the only open window also had the screen ripped off, Hurrah what luck! Using my cat like agility, I jumped up to the window, finding only my head able to fit through the small opening. After some worm-like wriggling I squeezed the rest of my body through the hole, falling into the kitchen. Inspecting the opening with a tape measure (something an old person would never have on them) I was able to determine that it was 9 and 1/8th inches open to the crong hot weather outside, and thanking god that I didn’t have a crong preventing me from fitting through the door-crong word-window or that I fell on Molly's crong disturbed cat, I went to go take a shower and forget about the death bee.