The Clown

The Clown

       I am going to step away from my usual demeanor in the first part of today's blog and tell you about this song. I was walking downstairs, as I so often do, and I put my iPod on shuffle, and the song that came up was a Charles Mingus tune called The Clown on the album The Clown. I listened to it and it absolutely blew me away, the story fit the music so incredibly well and I learned later that Jean Shepard improvised the whole story making it that much cooler. It is a fantastic song and I connected with it quite a bit so if you have time, by all means listen to this great song.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2Szy-MHXDQQ

So Jade came to Arizona this past weekend and I was absolutely ecstatic. I was shitting bricks until we realized that Flagstaff is sort of lame and doesn't have that much spontaneous fun to offer. It was like Carmen Electra was here but we were stuck giving out diapers at the nursing home. And thats exactly what we did.  We went to the grand canyon, the shit hole of America and we were in desperate need of a diaper to maintain all of its bullshit.

We went there to show Jared, her boyfriend it because he had never seen it, and you know what I realized. I absolutely hate the grand canyon, it cost 25 dollars to see this big hole in the ground that in reality isn't that cool. Like I am sure its geologically fascinating but I don't give a shit about that, that part of it isn't even slightly accessible to me. We got there and we walked for 45 minutes around the rim and it was the same view as when we pulled up with the car. The Grand Canyon is only cool if you plan to go down inside or if you are in high speed chase and you stop right before the edge and the trail of police cars just shoot off the edge. We were fucking bored out of our minds. 

Although probably the reason why I love Jade Bahn it is that no matter how bored we are we somehow always are able to attract the weirdest situation in the world that are not only bizarre but entertaining as well. We decide to go to Denny's later because its late at night and we college students and by dammit thats what college students do (her words not mine). And we go into Denny's and Jade and I were just making your boyfriend Jokes (Mary Kelly's terrible humor is spreading to more people now)  and then Jared needed to use the bathroom so he goes into the bathroom and doesn't even take a step in, he opens the door and walks immediately out like he had just seen a ghost. He sits back in his uncomfortable chair and doesn't even talk and just says "John. . . . . . .  just look for yourself, I can't even describe it". I walk into the bathroom and there is a man in there who is completely covered in what appears to be gang tattoos and looks like he has been addicted to heroin since the age of 5. His skin is stretched backed so incredibly tightly over his entire face that it makes it appear that his eyeballs are just sticking out of his head, looking straight into my soul. This man, (Tatts as we later called him) is just standing there scrubbing his arm as hard as he possibly can, as fast as he can, guarding all the stalls.
            Of course you must think "John you are retarded that isn't that scary at all, he was probably drying off his hands" BUT YOU WEREN'T FUCKING THERE. Its like whenever you hear a noise at night, it could be a cat tipping over a pot or the wind blowing up the leaves, or even my slightly disturbed father walking awkwardly around in his Christmas underwear, but when you hear that noise all you think is " A murder is coming to come get me and steal all my organs, if I pretend I am already dead he won't try kill me " So you lay there and act unconscious and hope the murderer thinks that he is too late and someone has already taken your organs and should move on to another house. My point is when I saw Tatts scrubbing his arm the only thing I thought of was he was either wiping off Blood or Semen and he needed to get it off for a crime. My imagination is a curse and a gift as my mother always said. And for some reason I wasn't as smart as Jared, I stayed in the bathroom with this deranged product of incest. I went into the pooper stall and I just stood there, I DIDN'T EVEN GO TO THE BATHROOM! There was no way I was pulling down my pants because as proved in previous blogs, if I took a shit I would be defenseless. I just stood there trying to look under the other stalls to see if I could see a body and when I got too scared because I thought he was moving closer I just flushed the toilet and walked out of there. But I couldn't let him think I was a snitch, so I washed my hand collectively and calmly singing happy birthday 3 times to make sure he knew I was trying to get off germs as well so he would assume that's what I thought he was doing. After my 3rd birthday I walked out of there, and couldn't contain my horror. My face was absolutely pure white and my eyes were screaming rape, republican and murder.

Jade left Flagstaff the next morning, she couldn't take the boredom and the amount of creppy creepy people that were all her boyfriends. (This joke is specifically for Mary Kelly and Jade Bahn, if you spent more time with me maybe I would include personal jokes in my blog for you too!)



But the reason I am writing this blog today instead of two days ago is so that I can tell you about the coolest idea ever. Peter and I were hanging out Friday night when we decided we were going to throw Brynn and Annalise a scavenger hunt because they wanted free swipes from me and they aren't getting them with a little bit of work first.

So get this Scavenger hunt. We showed up to their apartment with a Saxophone, A Crown, A Book of Matches, The Da Vinchi Code the Book, A Map, and a Bouquet of Sunflowers (those who know me well will understand the symbolic gesture of the sunflowers) And we told them good fucking luck. The map led them first to the Mailbu Boom Boom Bench where we sit and heckle people while enjoying a glass of Mailbu and we hid a note behind the grater and it had this poem in it.

I have heard hysterical women say

In times of anger and passion

That all poets are inherently gay

But some how

Lack Fun and Fashion

But today I call upon you

To soothe my soul with music

Play music that’s kind of blue

Next to a guitar that’s acoustic

I died many years ago

My family buried me at NAU

And put me behind the Bookstore six feet below

And now I am here to say, Fuck you too!

I AM NOT A WOMAN

 

Signed Ruben Lefthand

Buried with a Guitar in my hand

150 Paces into the Graveyard

FIND ME!!

PLAY MY FAVORITE TUNE!!!

So they went to the graveyard to find Ruben Lefthand (This is a real name, we were absolutely shocked that this person existed and he has a guitar as a tombstone, genius man? I think so) when they got there they found Sammy Kurshbaum sitting on a bench, they went up to him and asked him if they should play him a song. First off let me describe Sammy K right now, he is in a robe, looking fucking insane with his hair so long now, wearing Homer Simpson Pajamas and he is just staring at the ground in a fucking cemetery of all places, got that image in your head? good.  Sammy just being brilliant refused to look up from the ground and just pointed so creepily toward the grave, and they kept asking him questions and he just refused to answer. When I heard this I almost kissed him, brilliant work.  They go over and there is a note on how to play the saxophone and how to play Mary Had A Little Lamb on there. How many idiots do you think it takes to play a saxophone? Apperently its more than 2, because they spent 45 minutes putting this sax together and could only blast one note out. Sammy heard this as his cue to go over and stood in between the two of them and stared at the grave and in a solemn depressing voice said " That was his favorite song" and threw done a Box with the next clue in it and walked away incredibly slowly, and refused to say another word. I was so proud of him.

In the box was two prom dresses we got at the Goodwill and it said put these on and go to Lake Mary. Here is where our plan began to unravel, they knew where Lake Mary was and we didn't. We went to where we thought it was and they went to the right spot. But then we told to go to our spot, but the problem is we had just gotten there and they had a car so Peter and I halled balls to just some random spot in the field and set up camp. When they arrived we had shrimp, white wine, a campfire, blankets, marshmellows, and bread with tomato basil and cheese on top and we were laying on the blanket wearing the nicest suits we own inviting them with our sexual demeanor. They absolutely lost it they were laughing so hard. It was the culmination of Sam, Ruben Lefthand and now us with the most extravagant dinner I have ever had. ( I was born in the lower middle class, we had cold pizza and my parents had problems paying taxes, we weren't allowed to have shrimp and bread) This plan was absolutely perfect.

This made me realize though what I truly enjoy in life, it really isn't accomplishing goals or succeeding at life, it is the superfluous that I crave. It is doing the unnecessary acts that are elaborate and eccentric  that creates fun and excitement. We absolutely had no incentive to do this or any even any logic backing this idea but it was probably the best weekend I have had here yet. If there is one thing I need you know about me and this blog. Living Deliberately is always the most important thing you can do but without the bizarre and the  unknown and doing things that have not pragmatic properties, you won't even begin to know what deliberance is. The Superfluous is absolutely necessary.

Live Deliberately

John Kelly

Rest In Peace Ruben Lefthand

The Rise and Fall of John Danger Kelly

 Just Kidding I Am Still Awesome

      


                   I have noticed that with this blog I have had two titles for each and every post and that is just counterproductive and misleading. If I am doing more bullshit like this, that I seem not to notice, call me out on that shit, you (the reader) shouldn't have to stand for things like that. It is sort of like when a book that has the title on the main cover and it is like "Fashion for Freaks!" and then you open it up to the front page and its the title again but they (the publisher) turned the exclamation mark into a colon and make it "Fashion for Freaks: A Maddie Roy Story" and the fucking publisher thought we wouldn't notice, but we (the reader[s]) did.

       Yesterday, was 10.10.10, so you know what that means? KE$HA. Now I am a little downtrodden on the fact that Peter, Ian, and I did not win the backstage passes to actually meet the Dollar Sign Slut but like most things I do in life, the action was more of a joke than an actual attempt. *Video Joke Attempts Seen Below*  Now I am sure the readers of this blog, that only read this and don't actually talk to me in real life and feel as though "OHH I AM STAYING IN CONTACT WITH JOHN" but are now proven otherwise, are wondering: why the fuck would John Kelly go see a KE$HA concert?

The answer my friends.

Women. Women love KE$HA

Woah Woah Woah Woah WOAH! JOHN!! (I am now pretending to be an upset reader, writers do this sometimes to make the reader feel more connected to the story) Have you lost all of your morals? What happened to living deliberately at the end of your posts? Sure they are slutty women who are really easy and attractive and lets face it John, you aren't a diamond, you could get a 7 out of 10 on a good day, BUT that doesn't mean you have to settle for those mind numbing, dick sucking, blonde bomb shells.

Here is when I tell you to stay to your fucking side of the desk. Now I know that they aren't soul mate material but this previous week I have fallen into 3 puddles. Now lets not skip over this small detail. 3 fucking puddles. Have you ever legitimately, accidentally fallen into a puddle. Sure maybe if you were playing a sport on a field, but on asphalt? Now that doesn't just happen to people. I fell into 3 this week. 3 times this has happened to me. Two times while I was riding my bike. By the 3rd time I just threw my books down and started screaming I HATE COLLEGE, I HATE THIS PLACE, AND I HATE FUCKING PUDDLES!! Sure people laughed and had a good time but they didn't have to walk back in their wet socks and dripping panties to their smaller than average dorm room with their stinky roommate spreading out on his bed like his shit don't stink! BUT OHH IT STINKS!!! So if I want to lose all morals and go after slutty women I should be able to! And I pray to you that you don't judge me until you have fallen into 3 puddles in a week.

3 puddles. 3 fucking puddles. Piece of Shit Life

But hey at least when I am lying in the gutters I can look up towards the stars. And those stars right now are spelling out K    E      Dollar Sign     H   A

Peter, Ian, and myself had it all planned out. We had game plans but then Ms Merrell decides to contact us and tell us that Rebbecca is coming to pick us up so we figure fuck the game plan, we now have a ride and we are lazy lazy lazy men. They pick us up and bring us back to their apartment and there are a lot of people that I haven't met before in my life, but I was promised fuzzy vests. (There was only one fuzzy vest, and Peter got it) So I ignored those people and started putting War Paint on like an asshole, and refused to introduce myself because I have laid too long in puddles and tonight was my night.  

KE$HA wouldn't know what hit her. 

Ian, Peter, and myself went down to the floor because we had gotten floor tickets because lets face it. In our modern society, if you want attractive women you are going to have to search on the floor (Possible quote when Famous?) The floor was off the hook. I now understand why people like this music, it allows you to dance! DANCE LIKE NEVER BEFORE!!! Don't get me wrong, there is much better dance music but KE$HA has a bad reputation. If you just ignore all the singing and stupid backup vocals she has good dance beats and that was perfect for what I needed at the present moment.

So the night continues on and all of the sudden KE$HA puts her hand out into the crowd and I realize I am only like 3 feet from this semen soaked hand. I look at Peter and he is distracted (I found out later in the night it is because he accidentally spat gum into this girl's hair and blamed Ian) and so I just go for the hand I reach out and grab KE$HA's hand and scream LET ME BE YOUR BABY DADDY! (In hindsight I wish I would have thought up something wittier than that stupid phrase but I will not lie to my readers and put false statements in my blog and just say I said them) But this is besides the point, ( is this the first time I've recognized what I said in the parentheses?) I got to grab KE$HA's hand! I was laying in the mud and sewage filled puddles a couple of days earlier and now I am touching the sluttiest living hand in all of Pop music. RIP Michael Jackson

I imagined how my life could be totally tits again and as a result, I got KE$HA

The Rise and Fall and Rise of John Kelly? I think so!

Live Deliberately

John Kelly

******KE$HA Entry Number 1

I like this entry even though it was sort of convoluted because we had to shrink 5 minutes of film into a 1 minute and still put KE$HA behind it.
 

 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h9XOS0HJaMA

*******KE$HA Entry Number 2
This one I wanted to shave my nipple off as awkwardly as possible in front of a mirror crying but we just couldn't do it because of lack of pepperoni for a stand in nipple. Unfortunately, (or fortunately if you are prune) we had to go in a more modern, artistic direction.
 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UxkyYFlaMWg

I don't know how to embed these in my blog. Ryan Lane, please help me out.

Also I am publishing this post after Midnight tonight so it will be the Otherside of Midnight, CLEVER!!?!?!?! HUH!?!?!?!

Coming Home

                    The Audacity of John

              So I came home for homecoming (see how I cleverly turned that phrase right there, it is that type of humor that makes you keep reading my blog ) and I realized I really don't miss Prescott in the slightest. It just feels like I am a big kid going on the small toys at the playground. Like I can no longer sit on that one thing that could just move dirt while spinning in a circle. Now, moving dirt all day long is just too boring for me now. Sure all my friends were moving the metaphorical dirt as well last night but they didn't seem to enjoy it in the slightest either. My favorite part of the night was having Tyler Johnson stand in for me for Homecoming King, he was so upset when he found out that I lied and was still at the football game. It was so much funnier watching him angrily walk down the thing. Tyler if you are reading this I am sorry, but I thought it would be funny.
         Although I found myself missing my parents which shocked the hell out of me. It really isn't my parents that I miss but their bizarre actions. Take this morning for example, I wake up and go into the shower and in the middle of the shower floor there is just a sharp jagged rock holding down the anti-slip pad in the shower. (My mother was concerned for my safety and installed a anti slip pad but made it even more dangerous by putting a sharp rock in the middle of the fucking shower). And I didn't even react, I took the rock out of the shower and the anti slip pad like it was common place and that everyone has a rock that their parents found outside, holding down their anti-slip pad for feeble old men in the family shower.
          Then later in the day, my mother decided she wanted to make a meal for my sister Mary and I because goddamit she is a mom and that is what moms do for their sons when they come back home (her words not mine). She told my father to turn on the propane. Do you know anyone that has to go outside and turn the propane on? Do we live in the 1930's? So my father goes and turns it on and then freaks out because he says the house smells like propane and cant get the stove to turn on. I told him I knew how to do it because I had done it before and he accused me of trying to blow up the house and told me that I was going to kill us all or ruin the family financially (I feel as though this statement had more behind it then fear of propane exploding, I will look further into it at a later date).
            I also realize I miss my thought processes that go on here. Today, for example, I went to go to the bathroom and I forgot to lock the door behind me when I immediately shut the door ( I forgot mainly because I was thinking about how vulnerable I was right then to attack *See Below for Details). So before I urinated I went back and locked the door. But I didn't lock the door because I wanted to save me and someone else the embarrassment of walking in on me peeing, but rather I locked it to protect myself, from my mother walking in and trying to have a conversation with me while I am peeing. I miss a world where I have to think like that in regular daily scenarios.
               I remember just waking up in the morning before high school and slowly stumbling towards the bathroom door. I would forget to shut the door behind me because of how tired I was. Then my mom would exploit my forgetfulness and come in and just stare at me peeing. I would try and turn away but she was determined to be the creepiest mother in the world. Sometimes she would even push the limits on which normal humans operate, and try to talk to me about how my night was. As if that was a fucking appropriate place to ask me! I would almost always respond with ARE YOU FUCKING INSANE!!!!!!!!!! Then she would always call me rude and belligerent and that I am out of control. But hey, at least I realize and respect the sanctity and privacy of a bathroom.

              But believe it or not, I already miss NAU. I miss the terrible communal showers where people feel as though it is okay to stick body parts into your shower cubicle without warning or even a reason sometimes. I miss Esther, the lunch lady, that has yet to laugh at one of my jokes and constantly says "Hello How are you?" and never waits for my response. I miss chillin' balls with Ian and Peter and trying to figure out how to impregnate KE$HA to become the world's wealthiest baby daddies. (She is coming to NAU with Dirt Nasty and you can meet her if you make a music video to one of her songs and win this contest and by dammit we are going to win it, it might be gay [in the homosexual sense] but I don't care at this point). I miss sitting underneath the tree that reminds me of a jar and a jack-o-lantern at the same time! I miss Rhoads and his constant women troubles that he consults me for, for some reason (secret crush on me, perhaps, I will investigate further). I miss Ellie and her just bizarre weirdness and her truly original ideas that make me smile and say "Shit Yeah", making me realize that I need to think of more clever phrases. I like my life at NAU despite the fact I don't have an anti-slip pad or the constant fear of bathroom conversation. I am definitely ready to move on.
        It is weird though to think of what this next step is and am I prepared for it. This is the time in my life where I will decide who I am going to be and what I am going to do. I feel as though I am an immature kid who will just make jokes and I am no where close to ready mentally or emotionally to make these types of decisions. I am wondering if I should hire someone to make the decisions for me but that sounds really dumb and not practical. Plus, I have no idea who would do it with my interests in mind. (I think a supervillian would actually preform this task well, not because my intentions are to take over the world but they could teach me how to be successful through lying and cheating. I mean look at Lex Luthor, he didn't get to where he was by slacking off. And let's be honest I am lazy and my IQ does not break the bank, I need to live a little dishonestly. In fact you know what, I want to hire a life coach that has no morals what so ever and this is my advertisement. I need an outside evil perspective, because it is really easy to figure out what the the just and moral side is, but it is hard to be suceessful while pursuing evil and it is impressive if you do it).
           But maybe that it is okay that humor is guiding my principles and decisions. Sometimes the funniest outcome is also the best outcome. In fact I would argue that it is almost all the time. I feel as though every successful action or event I have been a part of, has been at least a little bit humorous. People respond to humor so much better than most types of action, so I just need to figure out what I can do that combines that concept with my want to help the world. And that gets me lots of women.

Live Deliberately
John Kelly


P.S Lex Luthor, give me a call. We have somethings to discuss.

***** If you need to murder someone the toliet is the place to do it.

           I am not sure why in movies and literature you do not see more clever assassins try and kill the hero on the toilet. That is the most vulnerable place you can attack. I don't care if you are Jackie Chan,  if you are on the toilet, you are completely vulnerable to a gun or a machete. What can you do? Your pants are around your ankles and you are in the middle of an embarrassing duty, a baby could defeat you in this position. Especially if you are in a public restroom where you can't even pathetically hobble from your shame filled cubicle. If I become rich, I am going to make my toilet defense proof with secret blades on the sides and a gun cleverly hidden in the toilet paper roll. I have to wait till I am rich because rich people wouldn't be looked down upon  for having switch blades and guns in their bathrooms and I refuse to have my reputation ruined by my toilet fear. Because if you are poor and you have this security people will think that they you are just a crazy redneck but if you are sitting on a gold toilet and you find a switch blade on the edge of the toilet you just naturally assume that the owner is a suave international diamond thief. It is a win win win situation. You are safe, people think you are diamond thief, and you get to go to the bathroom.