Ashley’s diary - Oh Jelly, you are so stupid on my driveway

Don’t slip on your own banana peel.

Your mom dated the guy who hung himself. Of all the ways to go. If only your dead grandfather were alive to see it. But he is not the one with the last name of what you are.

It was the other one, the other little pollack - let it snow, let it snow, let it snow.

Dear John,

Your mom was in my back yard when my wife whispered something to her about Heather. And then Jasper smacked his face against the brick patio wall.

‘Girl talk’

It was Ashley’s mom who double teamed the Rugby team. Maybe triple, who knows. Didn’t even know how to put gas in her own car. She always had trouble fitting in. She was bad at everything. Still is. 

Every family event was like watching paint dry in a newly renovated Holocaust Museum. Just because you change the spelling of your last name starting with the last letter of your last name from a ‘y’ to an ‘I’ - that does not change what you are.

Why did you sell your own daughter? To the highest bidder, even? Knowing the struggles that a CPA would have to endure in order to figure out how to put gasoline in her own car.

I like the smart ones and it works out if they are pretty, but you are neither - so let’s just chalk it up as some kind of mistake.

No better with numbers than the passion of biology.

If you have something better to do, then do it, but now you are here.

Everything you have is because of me. Everything you have is because I am better than you. And nothing about anything on any one of your resumes says anything about you. You only got to where you are because somebody put you there.

Leading you around by the tip of my words.

The offspring of sand tiger sharks practice in vitro cannibalization and eat each other in the womb.

Welcome to my house.

Tap, tap, tap - little piggy.

My ex-wife was introduced to me by her father. How many of you little princesses can say that?

He is dead and she is an X.

So when Norah Jones asks why I did not come, it was because I was shoveling snow for the guy who would eventually become the next Governor of Ohio.

I see now what that guy was writing about concerning the ‘meta’ exercise of observing his own funeral.

Ronin is a samurai without a master. I dig that motherfucker.

You only ask ‘Why?’ when the information needed to answer the question was not included within the comprehensive timeline of events.

You understand every which way to not leave me alone when that is the only thing I ever wanted. So that makes everyone else the futuristic purveyor of information based on the reliability of access to historical context with regard to facts that have been realigned to support a universal context.

NVIDIA

Well, how do you like that, platypus?

Billy Collins, the Death of Allegory.

For the record - AI was not used to write this. However, because of AI, I cannot turn off both spelling and or ‘auto-correct’ - isn’t that a bitch?

When the subject becomes aware that they are being observed, their behavior changes; unless they begin to analyze the process by which the observation of their behavior changes the outcome of the omnipotent observation.

All the pigs will be all lined up for Thanksgiving dinner. The worst thing in the world is to be boring.

You wouldn’t be the least bit interesting even if you try - too late now. Now I know what Dennis Prager meat when he asked the question regarding the mosquito.

Why are you reading this right now if you have better things to do?

Maybe I am your own personal project. Maybe I will end up as someone else’s resume in the media like ‘Mein Kampf’ or ‘Industrial Society and Its Future’ - which for some reason remain in publication and circulation.

Kasey Chambers - The Captain

So fucking dumb. It was me who was kicking the autumn leaves off of the name on his gravestone when you asked me, "Why are you kicking him?"