Friday, July 4, 2008

Catcher Streaming

Alright, I can't go to sleep; so right now I'm just posting old writing assignments from English. Here's my all time favorite: Ms. Tinker told us to write in Holden's stream of consciousness style; this was my attempt:

Lookout!
“If you really want to hear it, the first thing you’ll probably want to know is where I was born, and what my [haphazard] childhood was like, and how [far it strayed from all that phony crap they brandish on Hallmark cards] but I don’t feel like going into it, if you want to know the truth” (p.1). Nah, I would be obliterated in two seconds if I coughed up the slightest tidbit regarding my family. And I would rather sit here and relentlessly smash my face into the desk than dive into another unnecessary battle with my mother. I don’t know I guess she’s just too big a sore and all. Well, fortunately there’s a way to alleviate all this stress. No, I do not mean sex and narcotics, this is not some goddamn soap opera or reality TV show, where everyone is all boo hoo for no reason and feeling sorry for themselves. You would never catch me watching that crap, not in a million years. A cold day in hell will happen before my eyes are glued to the boob tube for another jam packed, two hour long edition of Sugar Coated Mindless Garbage, oh I am sorry, I am sorry, I meant Survivor, sorry for the mix up. There are just far too many of these shows these days for me to keep up with them. My parents, on the other hand, they flock to that crap like sheep, me, I have a problem; for some strange reason I tend to like “good art and entertainment” yeah I know, I gotta cut that out, or seek help. Yeah, maybe I will go crazy and they can fix me up and all, hmmm, how about that? They can give me a lobotomy. Boy, I will have a swell time melting what is left of my goddamn brain, watching Survivor, lodged in between my parents on the couch. Seems like it will be traumatic and all. But I will get over it. Hopefully. Oh boy! I did it once again. I have been babbling and moaning and groaning and making you fine people sit through my crap. Sorry, I had a point and a subject I wanted to address, but I will get back to the story, just for you.
Okay, so like I was saying there are ways to alleviate the stress that constantly boils us down and eats us up from the inside on a daily basis. Annually my family and I journey out to Lake Winnipesaukee during the August month to terrorize the people of Gilford, New Hampshire. Let them deal with out crap! It is great though; the whole family is there, you got mom, dad (we call him “Big Guy”), brothers Jon and Justin, Grammy Rose, Papa, and my cousins (I will be honest, I am not going to muster up enough energy to mention their names, it will just bore you more and I have plenty of room left for the story, I am not going to stall with useless info.)
Alright back to the plot, during one gorgeous summer in 1999, back when I was still a youngster at the age of nine (before the weight of the world irrevocably crushed my spirit), all hell broke loose. Everything was seemingly fine, us kids, that is my brother Justin , age eleven, my cousin Mike, age thirteen and me were simply playing an arousing game of “kill the man with the ball.” But, there is only so long you can play that game without getting bored or injured. Nobody plays for more than a half an hour; if you do than you have too much time on your hands. So after playing our little game, we decided to hop on this massive rock, we simply called “the rock.” This was and still is the biggest rock I have ever seen in my life. While sitting on this rock, one can observe all sorts of things from far away distances. On this particular day, something scathing was brewing in the air. So, there we were sitting up on the rock and from far away, like 200 feet away, we noticed two girls, who we were well acquainted with, riding their bikes. As they were riding, Justin (being the miscreant he can be at times) hollers one of the gal’s names, “Hey Katie!” he yelps. Now, I’m guessing this gal was not too bright, cause she decided to turn her head around 100% to see who was calling her name. What I forgot to mention is that on the road they were traveling, there is this humongous chain in the middle located there for the sole purpose of preventing children from riding their bikes down that road. Ha! Ah, irony, what are you going to do about it? Needless to say, her bicycle ride took a sharp turn for the worse! While her head was faced in the complete opposite direction, she was clothes lined by the chain and proceeded to plummet onto a pile of rocks. The three of us on the rock, were in a complete state of shock. After about three seconds, we all burst out into laughter. Now, I bet you are saying “you sick sonavubitch!” and maybe you are right, maybe I was a little proto-sadist. I don’t know. My assessment on the situation is that we were young, stupid, immature, and should have aided the gal, instead of simply laughing at her painful plunge. It is not like I do not care. It is possible to find something humorous and sympathize for it simultaneously. Oh and by the way with the exception of a few bumps and bruises she turned out fine, so you can dispose your tissues or save them for some soap opera. Please not the latter!
Anyway, there is another point I love to spew at the nay Sayers, who disdain me after I tell them this tale; if I had videotaped it, thrown on some goofy music and sent it to ABC, that freaky mess of a human being, Bob Saget would have made his lame as
hell, trite comments and broadcasted it to millions of dumbfounded Americans who in turn would have broken their ribs laughing so hard. I would win the first prize. I would be racking in the dough and life would be beautiful. Sunshine and lollipops for eternity, right? No! No! No! I cannot stress anymore how evil that would be and how far my morals are from that fake dream. But I am through ranting for now, I gotta go sleep, I need it, you know 14 hours a night and another ten hours in the day, then I will be ready for anything and everything. So, I guess the real moral, “lesson to be learned” is to always look ahead and to eschew the irrelevant characters around you. Goodnight.

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