Listen, folks, I’m gonna level with you— I am BURNT OUT. I sit at a desk, eight hours a day, writing ad copy about servo robot arms, lab-grade fume hoods and pneumatic arbor presses— I don’t even know what any of that shit is. By 5 p.m., my brain is mashed potatoes.

THEN, I hop in my shit-mobile and drive home, where I have to deal with my schizophrenic 9-month-old puppy’s shit that’s been baking in the house all day. By the time I take her for a walk, eat dinner, and plop down on the couch for the first time, I’m pooped. No, not just pooped. I’m shitted. I’m shitted all over. It’s like the sky opened up and God’s ass appeared and he dropped a mile-wide shit on my head specifically.

And then I sit here behind this keyboard and have to talk about how shitty my life is and how I’m a shit person, blah blah blah, no wonder God’s shitting on me. It’s to deafen the sound of my bitching.

How’s it going so far, good? You liking the blog? Don’t answer that. My fragile ego can’t handle it.

Again, here we go beating ourselves up. This guy watches one video about Carl Jung and now we gotta listen to him talk about his Shadow for ten years. Fuck me.

We’re gonna take a break from all that this week and introduce a new segment that I like to call “Miscellaneous Thoughts.” You wanna see something super autistic?

There are currently 1,085 notes on my phone. This is down from the 2,700 notes I had earlier this year. Every once in a while, I do a “note audit,” where I go through my whole phone and delete the really stupid ones, things like grocery lists, old passwords, names of people I’m going to kill, etc. The ones I decide to keep, I categorize for future reference.

I deleted 1,700 notes, many of which were written during my last manic phase. My Lord, what an adventure that was. It took me two weeks to sift through that unadulterated nonsense. I kind of hate that world, unadulterated. People just say it to sound smart. Plus, when was the last time you heard something described as “adulterated”? Sorry, bear with me for a second.

So wait, my sentence doesn’t even make sense then. If adulterated means to make something bad, and what I’m describing is bad, then I’m basically un-badding the bad. It’s a double negative. Calling my writing unadulterated nonsense is basically calling it “not-unpoor nonsense.” That’s actually a triple negative, which is how my IQ test came back!

Alright, without any further ado, here are some… just… we’ll call them… interesting thought I’ve had over the last two years. I saved them because I knew I would compile them into some sort of list for the people to marvel at one day.

Here are some miscellaneous thoughts…

I’m gonna say it, paramount plus sucks

— October 26, 2020, 9:24 a.m.

I’ve never subscribed to Paramount Plus. I don’t even know what’s offered on Paramount Plus. I just think this would be a funny take for a guy to have.

I got that Wallace and Gromit dick

— Aug. 23, 2020 , 2:43 p.m.

Now, this I really like. I’m not sure why, it just makes me happy to picture what Wallace and Gromits’ claymation dicks would look like. I really want to see that animated. Everybody go @ the BBC, let’s make this happen.

I’m like a hedgehog that can play the violin

— December 17, 2021, 4:29 p.m.

I said this to my friend Donny at a bar and he laughed and went, “Yeah man, you kind of are.”

Do a joke about Mini M&Ms because I like to eat the shell

— September 11, 2021, 10:55 p.m. (NEVER FORGET)

This was no doubt high me instructing future me, who was doing stand-up at the time, to write a topical joke about eating Mini M&Ms, where the relatable premise or punchline is that you’re talking about how fun it is to crunch the little shells. This is the problem with high people, they can only write jokes for other high people.

Play the role

— May 27, 2022, 1:20 p.m.

This is a note I wrote for myself in May of this year, probably about a week after I had gotten out of the mental hospital. This was me, at a time of genuine terror, telling myself to just try to lean into whatever happens— to play the role, wherever fate takes me. Just play the fucking role and stop thinking so goddamn much.

Bio

[NAME REDACTED] is a stand up comedian based in Milwaukee, WI. Starting his comedy career in Iowa, he was a club regular at Penguins Comedy Club in Cedar Rapids and the Comedy Bar in Dubuque. He hosts a weekly podcast on Tuesday nights called “Guys Bein’ Dudes with [NAMES REDACTED]” and runs a popular football card TikTok account called ibuybadcards. He performs his dry, raunchy style of comedy all across the midwest at any prestigious comedy club or shitty dive bar that will book him.

— April 9, 2021, 12:16 p.m.

OH GAWD, IT’S MY COMEDY BIO.

I was just clicking on random things man, I forgot I wrote this. Wow, this is bad. I want to stab this with a knife. This is a horrendous abomination, a mockery of everything holy. You can probably figure out who I am based on that information, I don’t care, I’ll sue you for breach of character. You’re breaching my fucking character, dude.

Crypto currency sounds like something you pay a mummy

— July 27, 2022, 3:48 p.m.

Hahahahahahahaha.

Alright, a couple more.

“I always had confidence, I ain't never been nervous

I ain't never had anxiety

I ain't never second-guessed myself

If I want it, I go get it

I'm always on go mode, I just go

I don't know what fear is

And you talk about that nigga? I'm him

I'm him, I'm that nigga”

— Tyler, The Creator

— April 2, 2022, 12:20 a.m.

You better believe I shared this shit with everybody. Those are some of the opening lyrics to the song “RUNITUP” by Tyler, The Creator from his latest album, “Call Me If You Get Lost.” I bought tickets, I saw him on tour, Kali Uchis was there, it fucking ruled. Tyler makes me wish I was gay. I JUST WANT TO DANCE LIKE NO ONE’S WATCHING!

This is the definition of mania right here, folks. Just sharing pictures of yourself, captioned by rap lyrics with the N-word in them. But not even on Facebook or some shit like that. This nigga sliding into DMs on the Notes app 😂😂😂

Cornelius thunderblatt

— November 30, 2021, 2:22 p.m.

I like to think of him as a stately man, late forties, early fifties at most. A silver fox with slanty facial features, drowing in the musk of a man who controls things. His eyes are like zebras. His mouth’s like a shark. You’re never allowed to stand too close to him. He just freaks out about it, nobody knows why. People listen to him, because he cares. He cares about the thunderblatt family. He wants to keep them safe. With his big black cock.

Alright, these are getting kinda racist, last one:

No loitering… The American Way

— June 8, 2021, 11:34 a.m.

God damn straight!