The Restoration of Sanity: A John Kelly Story

                                The Pursuit of Pure Happiness

Have you ever felt pure happiness?  And I mean absolute pure 100% happiness, because I thought I did until yesterday. I can barely even describe it. It feel as though the world is completely on your side in every aspect and has a tremendous prejudice for you and only you in your favor. You can feel it when you walk outside or when you ride your bike as fast as you can or while listening to the fucking sickest solo by Coltrane on Resolution. It is everywhere, the happiness seeps into everything, and improves every area of your life tremendously, more than you actually thought possible by one single mood. With pure happiness you will just be walking to your destination and can't help but smile and walk with a certain air of giddiness while waving at everyone you see. You feel as though no problems are impossible and that you can solve them all and today, I feel as though I am standing on top of the world and yelling my name for everyone to hear.

As many of you know, I have been planning my trip to Washington DC for ages now but it recently got canceled due to the clusterfuck that is Nicole's life. She was going to drive her car, but realized that it doesn't work and hasn't run for quite some time, and she couldn't rent a car because she lost all of her credit cards (I decided not to press the issue further, but I still believe that she truly lost them like behind the fridge). I say clusterfuck not to offend or shock my audience but because it is the perfect way to describe her life. She is the most oblivious person I have ever met, the entire time we were in DC she was constantly lost and constantly behind the group. She would sit in the car and look up words in the dictionary and then have to look up the words in the definition of that word because she did not know "exactly" (her word not mine) what they meant and then had to look up the words in those definitions because she had no fucking clue on those either. I suggested she started on something simpler like Cat in the Hat but I guess she did have a 35 hour car ride to kill.

But anyways Nicole came through at midnight the night before we were supposed to leave, she knew a guy who wanted to go there and so Ian and I went "Shit yeah."

We meet the guy (whose name is Andrew S. Taylor) the next day and he is the biggest walking oxymoron I have ever seen. He has a hillbilly look to him with a Virginian accent, claims to be a decedent of Robert E Lee and is by all means homophobic and racist. BUT! He drives a Honda Civic, play fucking jazz JAZZ FUCKING JAZZ!, and is driving to Washington DC to go see Jon Stewart. I have no idea where to put this guy, he is just absolutely bizzare. His only request was "That he get to bring 'is dawg" So we let him bring his dog named Amos. I thought it was Anus but I was too scared to ask the hillbilly man what the fuck he was saying.

Amos (formally known as Anus) was the most human dog I have ever met in my life but he was more like a school yard bitch human than a Macgyver.  He was so afraid of everything and was so needy. Constantly I had to pet him and every time I pet him, he would get excited and get an erection. He would lay on my pillows and if I didn't allow him to lay on my pillows he wouldn't let me sleep and would just keep stepping on my testicles, ensuring my insomnia.

This was our posse for the trip and with this combination of adventurers ,we were sure to have a bitchin time and I was fucking excited.

 The ride was boring and all I kept thinking about is who would actually marry me **** See Below for Details and Application***. The only non boring parts were the rest stops where we just sort of ran around trying to feel our legs again.

I got in trouble for trying to climb Elvis and almost tipped over the famous Memphis Egg but the ride really didn't catch its exciting part until about 20 minutes before we arrived in DC. You see we had to drop of Amos (formally known as Anus) at Andrew's ma's house (his words not mine) but Ian did not know that and he was the only that didn't know and of course, he was the one driving. We all fell asleep and woke up about 5 minutes away from the Metro to Andrew going SHIT SHIT SHIT FUCKING SHIT YOU WENT ON THE GODDAMN ROAD FUCKING SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT TURN AROUND SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT. You should have seen the look on Ian's face it was a mix between sudden fear and confusion. Since this was a stick shift and this was the first time Ian or I have ever driven one, Ian had minor problems turning around and Andrew just kept screaming which made it harder to turn around. Whenever I now get sad I can just remember Ian’s face in that moment and I will just start laughing again. Finally Ian just pulled over on the shoulder of the road and I leaned over to Nicole and said “Get Shotgun, Do Not Let Ian Get Shotgun, He will die.” She looked at me and just shook her head, I am sure if I waited another minute she would have looked up the word Shotgun just to see exactly what I meant, so I got out of the car and got shotgun, and we sat in silence all the way back to Manchester Virginia with a couple of mutterings from Andrew of "fucking shit... . . . . .piece of fuck.. . . . .goddamn raly" going 40 miles over the speed limit.



We finally get to the rally and it is nuts. Absolutely Boozackers (new word I just made up, do not look up in the dictionary). There were so many people there that they can't fit half of the people there on the actual national mall. People were legitimately standing on the porter potties just to get a spot.

                                               Their Porter Potty is pretty Shitty!!!!!!!!
The rally was intense, so intense that Ian and I couldn't get a decent spot but it didn’t matter, we were too intrigued by everyone else there standing up for their sanity. So we decided to bail on the rally because of the shitty shity spots (PUN INTENDED!!!!) we kept getting, and just start walking around to see what DC had to offer. We realized soon enough that everyone else had that same thought process, every street we went on was just a mass of people, walking ignominiously (look it up). There were probably 250,000 at the rally and 1,000,000 marching around it. Everyone would just walk on the streets because there was no logistical way that they could all fit in the sidewalk.

Everyone just kept walking towards an ambiguous goal and onto streets that weren’t for them causing them to shut down and every street connected to it. I felt like I was part of the march on Washington that helped pass the Civil Rights Amendment, but instead of inspiration black leaders, I had a man in a chicken suit making just horrendous jokes to me while looking for the nearest McDonalds. But that is exactly what America needs right now (Not literally, I should not, cannot, and will not advocate dressing up like a fucking chicken), it doesn’t need more pissed off people, we have those already, I feel as though everyone is trying to be the next Martin Luther King Jr. and that is causing so much conflict and chaos. We can see it with Obama running on the message of hope and courage while making grandiose speeches trying to maintain that air of conviction and determination that King had and then he gets fucked by Glen Beck who is trying to maintain that very same thing in the exact opposite direction so you end up having two individuals trying to yell louder than the other, while neither of them keeping the qualities they were going for in the first place. Then I realized how I am I going to save the world( I know it sounds ridiculous and little egotistical to think that I can save the world but Goddammit I want to be Martin Luther King [I don’t actually want to be him, I realize I am way to white to even close to being him but I want to be the idea of him, you know what I fucking mean, stop getting into the specifics]).

Well to be fair I didn’t realize it right then, I am lying a little bit, I apologize, I realized it when I went to the Lincoln Memorial. Have you ever seen the Lincoln Memorial? Don’t Answer that.  Go see it again if you have, it is one of the very, very, very few things in life that when you actually see it, it doesn’t disappoint. It is magnificent in every regard and you can look across the room and see everyone with the same exact face of awe from the smallest child to the oldest man, it is simply breathtaking.

It is a symbol for me for togetherness and unity and I got to thinking that Lincoln was a great man and used this unmatched power to save the union. But then I realized that’s bullshit, he didn’t save it by himself. He had a lot of help.


He wasn’t a military man and he realized it so he hired Grant to command the forces and implent a winning strategy. Even getting elected he needed help and chose Andrew Johnson to be his Vice-President to make him more appealing to the southerners. He needed help and so do I.

I do not need the help of people with a loud voice and passion in their words, I already have that. I need intelligent people to help me out, to do the things that I am not good at or to show me that I am wrong. Because as I have said before, I normally don’t get things right the first time (in fact I am told that a lot) and my IQ doesn’t even come close to breaking the bank and I need people that can help me in the areas where I just cannot succeed. I need a collation of friends. A League if you will. Not of leaders or of future martyrs but of Ordinary Men, who realize that is something terrible with this world and want to work together to show that the time of impatience and anger is through and that pragmatism and thoughtful thinking will save the world. To preserve the sanctity of America, because it has come way too far, and it has become too great, just to watch it perish and dissolve.

That’s why I am starting today, November 3, 2010, The League of Ordinary Men. This group will be dedicated to solving all problems domestic and international from gigantic problems like Genocide in Darfur to smaller problems like how to alleviate boredom while on the toilet. I don’t have the specifics of it yet in fact I have nothing for it yet, because I just thought of the idea today, but keep your eyes open and keep your minds thinking because this is coming, and its coming fast because the world needs to be saved yesterday and we don’t even have a plan for today. 

My name is John Kelly and I will Live Deliberately. Will you?






*****Marriage

John Needs to Get Married

            Has your life dream been to get married to John Kelly even if it was for only a minute, well holy shit did you come into some luck today. John has recently learned that the only way out of his housing contract is to drop out of NAU or get married (I couldn’t believe it either [why did I switch viewpoints in the parentheses?}). Now, John won’t get married to just anyone, there needs to be an application process. Send in your qualifications and a list of references (previous boyfriends, transcripts of random compliments on the street *needs to be notarized*, etc.) And John will review them and schedule you for an interview.



Why you should marry John Kelly (I don’t know why I should be even putting this)

A Trip to Vegas and a copious amount of alcohol so that we can married
Jokes!
Moderate to Great Lover (depends on body type and amount of Barry White’s music going on)
No problem paying taxes!!
Can do up to 12 household chores in a week
Won’t bitch about the Laundry
Medically Fascinating body for you Pre-Med Majors
Nickname “The Horse”
Will not use smiley faces in text messages
Can fit entire fist into mouth
Hacky Sack skills are above Par
Dancing abilities, greatest in the nation?
Extremely soft hands and feet
Afraid of Cotton balls
Doesn’t care if you like Jesus
Smokes fancy cigars on occasion
Watches about 2 TV programs a night
Knows a little bit about Jewish Culture
Can recite all of Bitches Aint Shit
Can rollerblade at unsafe speeds
Owns a bike
Knows other people than also own bikes
Like Puppies
Dislikes Puppies who poop on themselves
Fingers are extremely long
Will go on walks if talked into it
Adequate Pumpkin Carver
Published Poet
Great Speaking Voice
Laugh that can carry across the ocean
Perfect Jaw and Nose
Knows how to work the speaker phone on most cellular devices
Has Own Blog
Bigger than Average Nipple
Magic Regrowing Nipple
Takes Pictures on occasion unless inconvenient in the slightest
Likes the idea of learning a new language
Friends with people who aren’t white
Mainly has white friends
Surprisingly Strong Sternum

Makes really long lists that people won’t read



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.

The Rally to Restore Sanity/ The March to Keep Fear Alive

College Totally Blows

These were my first words when I woke up this Tuesday morning in my bed. It was one of those wake ups where you aren't really that tired but you have 15 more minutes before you absolutely have to leave your bed and you automatically think "why waste it out in the real world right?" So I was yelling at myself to fall asleep and telling myself how much more I would like the day if I had 15 minutes more minutes of sleep but instead of actually sleeping I just lie there and wondered why the Death Star had a trash compactor.*See Below for Details*

I get up 14 minutes later and get my little homosexual shower caddy ( it has nothing to do with sexual orientation, it is just the common lingo of my generation) and I go to the communal shower room.

Today, the man in the shower stall next to me asks me if I found his razor. First off, WHAT THE FUCK?!?!?! Where do you get the confidence to ask that question unless you knew the answer, unless like just dropped it and saw it go on my side. I asked him "Did you drop it on my side?" Like a fucking normal person would.

Then he said " I don't know it happened 3 days ago"  and paused and then he continued to describe the razor, telling about how it vibrated and was small and orange. I then, asked him the logical question " Did you leave it in my stall 3 days ago?" He then told me no he was using it by the sinks.

And me being pissed about my lack of 15 minutes of sleep, responded. " Why the hell then would you ask me whether or not I have seen your razor" Because come on, I am naked right now. This is ridiculous, am I the only one that has a problem with this. So far at college a man has dropped his soap on my side and awkwardly grabbed my foot in an attempt to retrieve his soap. A nerd talked to me about battle strategies in Starcraft 2 and how I can employ them into my every day life, including my classes. And a man put his underwear on top of the divider and it fell on to my side and he never claimed ownership of the dirty, now soaking wet underwear. This is my place to be naked and safe, I thought that was understood. I expect a little privacy when I am naked in the shower. Keep your shit out of my shower and understand that this is my me time.

And when I asked him about why the fuck are you asking me about your little vibrating orange razor you lost 3 days ago he just went " SHEESH!!!" As though my comment was out of line for his weirdness.

Sheesh me? No, no, no, my friend Sheesh you!

My day was going horribly, just everyone was treating me awkwardly and I was being mean to them. Even when I held the door open for a midget (I don't know the politically correct term, is it little person? I think it's that) she just glared at me like I was treating her differently by holding the door open. Which was true the only people I held doors open for today were extremely attractive women, but that is just common sense to that.

But then my day turned completely around, I got a call from my ride board.

There is this ride board at NAU and you put where you are going or where you want to go and I put down that I wanted to go to Washington DC for October 30th because that is the day of the Jon Stewart Rally and I really wanted to go. This girl, Nicole, called me and said that she wanted to go to the east coast, just for shits and giggles one weekend. She didnt even hear of the rally, once I told her about it she got excited and decided that it is a must attend event. She told me I needed to get people to come so instead of spending the day wondering about the death star, little people, and attractive women I decided to get on this. In just today, I have gotten Kaushik, Ian, Bryn's Roommate and 3 maybes to go on this expedition. This is actually going to happen and I am so excited and I am not even sure why.

This seems like such a bullshit thing to do but it might be the last time I do one of these things because I am in college and once I am out of here, I am going to have to start acting like an adult. Plus, this is a pretty rare event right? I know Glen Beck did it a month before this but fuck him. Also, we are going on a road trip across the entire country and I feel as though if I am ever going to become a hippie I need to do that (I don't want to be a hippie but its nice to know that I have options)

This completely turned me around on the anger I felt towards college. College is totally tits. Things can happen so quickly here if you just put your mind to it. Like tomorrow I am selling my plasma for money. How cool is that? This is a needed step in becoming a despondent ( I am not saying I want to be a despondent but it is nice to keep my options open)

On another related note, I think I need to reopen my book on random sexual encounters, because this is what I was looking forward to the most about college and has yet to happen. I felt as though I was lied to by American Cinema because of the lack of random sexual encounters I have faced here.But look at it this way, I am giving plasma to go to a bullshit rally in DC for ideologies that dont matter in the slightest. If that isn't a stereotypical college life activity I don't know what is. And it happened because I spent the day working on it like a deliberate man. If that stereotypical random occurrence is possible with perseverance, so can this sexual endeavor. So Tomorrow will be plasma/sexual encounter day just like today was Razor/Rally day.

Life can be the tits if you put your mind to what you want those tits to look like.
-John Kelly

 John Kelly
Live Deliberately

*****Why the Trash Compactor is impractical, inefficient, impossible, and stupid
1. Why do both sides move? I feel as though it would be infinitely more effective if only one side moved and crushed the trash on the other side.

2. Why is it just crushing shit horizontally? it seems as though you would have gigantic room length blocks that are just blasted into space. You could save so much space by crushing it the other ways.

3. How the fuck does Princess Leia know where the trash compactor is and why do all of these vents go here? Does the death star need that many tubes to the trash compactor in that short of a space? And why does she describe that as a safe place to go?

4. Why the hell is their a monster in the trash compactor, does he live there always? If so then it doesn't compact all the way and leaves enough room for a fucking monster to live in, so the characters were never in any real danger. Is it dangerous enough with the trash compacter. This small edition made a terrible non-plausible scene into one of the worst scenes in history.

College Rules

To Whom It May Concern:

The chapter in my life entitled College has begun and I have decided that since I am living in the technological age that a blog should come with the turning of this new page.  I have decided while typing this very sentence that I will make this blog about my current events and present thoughts and will refuse to ever do a vlog or at least until they change that disgusting name. I will not always use proper grammar rules, but that is mainly because I do not know them. I was told as a student that I will just learn them by reading books, I am calling bullshit, and as you can read, it is bullshit.


College is totally tits.

Although my journey up here was lacking a lot of tits. I was so excited when I got into the car about to leave Prescott behind and go up to NAU, but instantly my parents destroyed that mood. My father insisted that I brought all the wrong stuff and that my organization of the car was unsatisfactory. I told him that his face was unsatisfactory. Mary Kelly's terrible humor has began to rub off on me. Then my dad told my mother how to drive to Flagstaff, and he suggested she use I-40 to get there. I corrected from the backseat saying that I-17 was better, faster, and stronger. He acted like I was mentally challenged and insisted that I-40 was the way to go. My mom wanting to please me because I was her last child to go to college, chose my path because it was John's day goddammit (her words not mine).

We arrive at NAU 20 minutes faster than we would have on the I-40 and my father was pissed. He ordered my mother to park in the farthest parking lot away, and gave me a look which told me not to challenge him. So we parked about a mile away from my dorm but I didn't care that much because I was at college and about 5 hours from now I would be a free man (Just for clarification, I was never a slave. I am using this term to express my hatred towards my parents at this moment, and their oppressive attitude towards me).

We arrive in my dorm, Cowden Hall, and I go to the booth entitled "Come here for moving in." I giggled at the sign. I approached the booth and offered my name and my student id. The woman then handed me a key and said "Welcome to Cowden! Can I have a MOO!?!?!"

 I looked at her as though she were insane and barked out a "What?" (I said this condescendingly and not in a I didn't hear you way)

She looked at me frightened and said less confidently just in case I hadn't heard her " can I have a moo?"

"What!!" I replied so much more confidently this time.

"Can I have a moo?" This was her last time repeating this statement that she is forced to say.

"Absolutely Not"I replied indignantly I am not mooing for anyone anymore, this is fucking college. My mooing days are far over.

I walked up to my dorm on the 2nd floor and my found my room 249. My roommate had already moved in but wasn't there at the present moment. I stayed in here and smiled for a brief second until I realized that the car was a mile away and I had a lot of stuff to bring up to the 2nd floor.

I went down stairs and I saw that people had gigantic blue crates that had wheels and nice handles to put all their stuff into. I saw a blue crate unattended and empty and I stole it. If you are the owner of that blue crate and are reading this I am sorry, but I was desperate and tired and had not very helpful parents.

I push the blue crate to the truck and load it myself with my parents picking up objects and setting them down in the same place to give the appearance of help. I noticed their lack of help. I pushed the blue crate and my bike down, down the big street causing a clusterfuck of traffic. It was my parents and my apathy that caused that, not me as a person.

I moved all my shit into my room and returned the blue crate to the bottom of the stairs. I returned to my dad cursing about the amount of stuff I brought and how carelessly I put it about my room. I started unpacking and asked my mom to make my bed. My father continued to sit there and I asked him if he could put my clothes in the drawers and put the shirts with the shirts and the pants with the pants. I told him I did not care about the order just that it had some sort of system. My father told me that he isn't very good at this sort of thing and I told him just to try it out, maybe he would surprise himself. He then proceeded to just grab handfuls of clothes and shove them in random drawers. I told him to "STOP STOP STOP FUCKING SHIT STOP." He stopped and then went outside and sat down, ending his contribution to the move in process.

I moved in with little to no help but I am now a college student and thats all that matters.

I am loving it here. I met a kid named Rhoads. I am not even kidding you his name is RHOADS. He is my new best friend, for that and other facts. I miss my friends and its weird when ever I heard the song "There will never be another you" I think of like 5 people. I think that's ironic but those 5 people were extremely unique and the song applies to all of them.

I will have other stories at different times


Live Deliberately
John Kelly