An Intro To Random Musings

So this section is called Random musings and I don’t even like that name. I mean a more suitable name for these posts would be something like “Fried conversations” or something, but of course that would be politically incorrect and sound way too suspicious and maybe off-putting.

Off-putting, for the wrong folks, that is. I know the true ones in the circle have all been there a few times and wouldn’t mind reading about some of their own fucking weird thoughts. And all the better because it’s conveniently written by someone else, because let’s face it; they were too stoned to do it themselves at the time.

Being Loose units

But yeah anyway, before I go rambling on about God knows what the way it tends to happen when you are as cooked as a juicy, medium rare steak, I gotta tell you, to quote Brad Pitt in The Curious Case of Benjamin Buttonthere are no rules to this Random Musings thing“. It’s just a summary of the random, often stoned ideas and conversations I have had with other wandering souls.

And of course, that whole no rules thing means you can write whatever weird shit you want in the comments section down below. The weirder the better, I guess?

So, let’s head down this rabbit hole then, shall we?

P.S I couldn’t think of an appropriate header image for this article.
So I put up a photo of my mate and I fooling around with the inflatable emergency suits we found in our cabin on this high-end cruise I once went on.
Hope it works for ya, and if it don’t, then Oh Well…

Peace x

2 thoughts on “An Intro To Random Musings

  1. So basically this is a rambling section for both reader and writer? Interesting idea.
    I love reading your blog, it makes me feel nostalgic whenever I get to the end of a post, kind of like not wanting to read the last chapter of a really good book because then it will end, but wanting to read it because you want to know how it ends. I tend to just procrastinate and put the book on my shelf for a few weeks, then in free time smell the lovely pages and think about how it will end before I can’t bear not knowing anymore… I don’t do that here though because I would probably get lost somewhere else in one of your stories and then never know the ending.
    I don’t think I am going to actually post this comment though.
    It is really late right now, or almost early.
    I am at home, and my cat is going bananas. I really shouldn’t have drunk a quart and a half of tea earlier. I don’t think I am going to sleep tonight.
    I only did it because my sister was stealimg my tea bags, so I used them all in one big swoop. What? Everyone gets territorial over something, for me it is my cat, tea and bookshelf. And violin. Nobody in my home is idiot enough to touch my violin. Is tea caffinated? I also added to much sugar, so it was like a gross brown mess, but I didn’t want anyone to know so I chugged it once it was cool enough. You and whoever reads this comment that I am so not posting are the only ones who will ever know.
    My cat just knocked over a lamp on my desk, but I knew he was going to, so I was ready and caught it. But I collect pins, like nice ones, the type that are old and have rhinestones in them and glitter in the right lighting, they got knocked all over the place. One lost a rhinestone. I am going to have to find glue tomorrow.
    My dad just tromped upstairs sleepy mess. I was pretty noisy. He said I should go to bed. I am I bed. I just can’t sleep. Maybe I will watch supernatural on netflix. Most of the show sucks, but the main characters are gorgeous. I wouldnt want to go out with them, mostly because I am way to young but also because I would probably get a complex if I was around perfect people. I failed a biology test through my online school today. I got a 76 and need an 85 to past the competencies. I hate the section of biology about chromosomes and cells. It is all so confusing. I only took the course because I felt pressured to figure out my life and thought maybe this was a step in the right direction. I think I was wrong. Why do I need to go to college? I should be writing this crap in my journal not on the comments sections of your poor blog. But my journal is across the room and my phone thingy is right here, and it is warm under these blankets, not to mention easier to ignore Carl. He is the cat.
    I thought I wanted to be an editor for books and stuff, but then realized that that is a dying industry with the Internet. So then I thought i just would write a couple books, become famous and travel the world without dying or something terrible happening to me cause I’m female.
    Turns out, I am quite certain I am a terrible writer too. I get way over critical of my stories, and hate not having the perfect from the get go. My mom says they are great and I shouldn’t criticize so much, but seriously? She is my mother, of course she thinks they are great. It isn’t like she ever tried writing a book. You should hear her when she tries to write a comment for Facebook, she calls for everyone to come edit the word order, spelling and punctuation. And she thinks I am bad. I came hardly remember to post stuff of my blog, how could I keep two dozen characters in order? I also get wordy, like I probably am now. I say stuff inverted. Half my characters are Mary sues, and the other half have crappy senses of humor or are to angsty to be of any real use. Speaking of angst you crappyou characters that tick me off, the main vampire from that terrible series of Twilight or whatever. Oh my gosh, I just go mad thinking about those books. The characters have no depth, and if it weren’t for that love triangle the only plot to that stinking book would be about a girl in a town that rains 6 days a week. I also totally ship the werewolf with the main girl.
    Weĺl, now that I am all worked up might as well mention the one thing that truly just puts me in a bad mood.
    The Percy Jackson movies.

    I just… can’t. They are that bad. Like, words don’t even go there. I hold an eternal grudge against all parties involved in that. Won’t even watch movies those actors have been in since then.
    Yes, that was probably the worst year of my life. Don’t judge me on it. Then there is the entire problem of having to re-read the H.P. books because I can’t tell cannon from fan fiction. Yes, this is a problem.
    My parents say I spend to much time alone in my room. I am not alone. My cat is always present.
    He has settled down, and is now sleeping at the end of my bed. He looks very peaceful for 14 pounds of gray fluff.

    Gah. I need to go to sleep.


Agree? Disagree? Tell us what you think here...

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s