An Excerpt from the Great Tome of Domingo (Entry # 924)

3 Aug

Day 3 of my “Blog Every Day For A Month” Challenge, and here is something you may see a few more times in the upcoming days, a selection from my rather voluminous Journal.

I wrote a whole blog about my journal once, which you can link to here:

https://domingosaurusrex.wordpress.com/2013/11/06/im-a-little-more-organized-than-that-guy-kevin-spacey-played-in-se7en/

But what I have not done, as of yet, is actually share any of it.  That is something I rarely do.  For one thing, the vast bulk of it is boring as shit.  It’s literally nothing more than an emotionless chronicle of the mind numbing minutiae of my day to day affairs. One or two of the entries are at least mildly entertaining.  The following entry was composed on October 24th, 2003.  There aren’t actually any pictures in it.  I added them to make the post a little less boring.  I have not edited it in any way, so try to ignore any glaring grammatical errors.


Journal Entry # 924:  I’ve decided to break the monotonous horror of my job by taking my final break.  I’m probably not even entitled to a second break on this shift, but see if I care!  There’s so little to do here I’m going to start taking every opportunity I get to sit down and write in my journal, or really whatever else I feel like doing.  It is now too late to embark on my plan to hike the “Across Town Bar Circuit” as I never did go get any money out of the bank and now it is, in fact, too late to do so.  After my alleged “break” I will have a rather small amount of minutes left to work (about 20 or so) and I’m sure it will float by very quickly, but there I go again with my non-existentialist thought patterns

sartre2

Jean-Paul Sartre. He was an existentialist, and you probably would be too if you had real life googly eyes. (Sincere apologies to anyone who comes across this who has any problems of any kind with their eyes.  I’m not making fun of you.  I just thought this guy was pretty funny looking.)

Live for the MOMENT!  Never dwell on future events.   Don’t think about getting out of work.  I must enjoy this moment right now.  I’m sitting in the break room sipping on a bottle of Mountain Dew, which is very delicious, and scribbling away in my journal, which is always a very fulfilling thing to do.  The last couple weeks I’ve done very well on my journal.  However I will not set any more goals for myself.  Setting goals is not an existentialist thing to do.  Not that I consider myself an actual existentialist, but I do think it’s an interesting concept, and a fairly competent sounding ideal, although I think that not making any plans for the future is a bit irresponsible and highly irrational.  Nor is it possible really.  But not constantly dwelling on things that happen in the future or past is certainly an achievable and beneficial idea.  30 minutes til I leave here.  Again I go off on that tangent about time.  I should not even look at clocks.  What would Horatio Alger do, and who cares?

Hunter-S-Thompson-at-Woody-Creek

Hunter S. Thompson, in his writings, frequently paused to consider what Horatio Alger would have done. I have stolen that tendency and used it for my own.

Our grades for our last Geography test were posted today, but I didn’t even bother to check them. I already know know I aced it.  I’m in fucking college taking a GEOGRAPHY class at 30 years of age.  (Well almost 30.  Dammit there I go again.)  Kristen just sat down and talked to me for a few minutes.  I guess she’s not mad at me for disappearing the other night.  (I guess people who hang out with me pretty quickly realize I just do that sometimes.  I guess I should go back to work now.

Pete and I are at Jonathan B’s.  Pete made up my mind for me about my bar hopping adventure by showing up to meet me just as I was walking out the door.  I’m sort of glad he did.  Now we are at Road Runner.  having another Labatt’s Blue each.  I’m going to try to add a brief entry in every bar we’re in and chronicle what we are drinking.  Macaroni Grill, where I’ve already made an ass of myself by dropping my change into the olives (and I’m not even remotely drunk yet.)  Fuck ME!  We’re drinking Miller Lite because the only other option here is Budweiser, and we have taken a shot of Jack each.  Pete has gone to the bathroom, and before that we were postulating on the relationships between each of the various groups of people around us.  (A fun drinking game.)  We discussed whether or not other people did the same about us, and if they thought we are a gay couple.  (We are neither gay, nor a couple.)

bar_pers

These people are all losers.

Now we are at Max and Erma’s, and it is around 9:00.  It seems later.  More Labatt’s Blue.  If I’m gonna have to drink beer, this is what I want.  None of that fancy shmancy shit.  Barf.  While I was in the bathroom a minute ago Pete took the opportunity to write “My name is Pete Douglass and I say ‘Bitchin'” in the margin.  This may be only the second time ever that anyone has ever written anything in the pages of these notebooks besides me.  (I happen to know, from memory, that the other time was on page 7 and it was composed by a girl named Lori who I had a huge crush on.  She asked me if she could write a page in my journal and I let her.  A whole page This is page 2452. So I guess I just confessed to only having written 2451 of those pages.  Yikes.)

We’re in some scum infested slime hole called “Ashley’s” or something or other like that.  Pete said the waitress upstairs was a bitch, but I countered that if I worked here, and was a female waitress, I would most certainly be a bitch too.  He was unable to argue with my logic.  The patrons here are mostly a bunch of ass faced maggotrons, and the world would probably be a slightly better place if they all went willingly over the side of a cliff like lemmings.  (Which probably isn’t too far off from their actual mental abilities.)

fratboys

A drunken bunch of frat boys, trashed on Weirs. One sees this sort of thing a lot while out on the town in Ann Arbor.

Now we’re in some place called Scorekeeper’s Sports Bar, having pints of Labatt’s Blue (again) that cost 4.50 a piece.  I could have a whole six pack for that almost.  Pete’s scratching something into our table with a pocket knife which will no doubt result in our imprisonment and possible ass rapings.  (I gotta stop hanging out with these trouble makers.  I don’t want to end up imprisoned and/or ass raped.)

We were briefly in Full Moon before Pete got us promptly kicked out by smoking in the non smoking section.  Again i have to pay the price for hanging out with a trouble maker.  HA! HA! HA! HA!

Now we are at someplace called Fleetwood Diner, where we are waiting for cheeseburgers and fries, and also a cab, which will be here sometime between 5 and 45 minutes from NOW!!!

burger

Most of my journal entries begin while waiting for a meal in a restaurant, which almost always consists of a burger and fries. (I know what I like bitches.)

Now we are at Aubree’s, which is the last step on the Orient Express to my house.  We were rebuked by the cab driver for striking up a conversation with the cute girl who was sharing “Night Ride” with us.  She clearly did not mind, and we almost had her convinced to join us for a drink. The driver said (I shit you not) “It’s inadvisable for fellow Night Ride passengers to hit on each other.”  Get a life fuck face.  Just because you’re a loser doesn’t mean we have to be.


So there you have it.  Was it boring?  Does it make you want to write your own journal?  How badly does it make you not want to have to read any more excerpts from my journal?  Don’t be shy.

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AlyZen Moonshadow

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AlyZen Moonshadow

The words and works of AlyZen Moonshadow, digital mixed media photography artist, designer, musician, poet, philosopher, mother, muse, Goddess!

Are You Finished Yet?

I like to write about stuff. I usually try to be funny. Take it or leave it.

Michael's Origins

Sherlock unlocking the past

anewperspectiveperhaps

This site is about everything from my philosophy on life to the little things that make me laugh. IIt is about living, and breathing, and pausing long enough to take it all in. I hope it makes you laugh, sometimes makes you cry, but always makes you want to come back for another visit. It is your words, and your likes that inspire me to keep writing. And it is through my writing that you have a very large window to my soul. Relax awhile, read, and enjoy!

Be Free 2 Love

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Elizabeth Conrad

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