Tokyo Story #8

Tokyo is a place of wonder and amusement. Imagine though, you get lost in a place where you can't speak the language. You're standing on the corner, unable to understand. You got out of your way, to explain, but you don't know it.

Then from one side, a dog, a child and a police man come to your aid. They point to the map, though they don't have to. Even though, they can't speak the language you know, they continue to point and coo. The dog seems helpful too.

This was my life for a bit of Tokyo.

Hair Like Noodles

Notice how hair is like noodles
And how I like to doodle
Just kidding about the doodles though
I needed it for the the rhyme, you know
Hair like noodles, a pasta dish
Never under a knife, or feeling risk

No. No. This isn't what I wanted.
Nor, a life that should be confronted
The fantastical thought
And the ridiculous plot
These are all lies
Things I despise

I wish they were true
I wish fantastic was a thing, I could do
Life is ordinary, not strange
The dog is upset, not deranged
In the world, I'm alone
Trapped in my phone

Maybe in my sadness
Or in a pillow nest
I can escape for breaks a little
Until I am belittled
I try to breathe
But have more needs

Negative cash flow
Yeah, I know it blows
The noodles, they're all I eat
The cheap, can't be beat
This is the reason
My hair is without season

Writing Excercises

Think you have a hard time writing things?
Imagine a world with one letter missing. Start with an easy one like shmee or Q. No one likes those ones.
Then work your was up to the big three. E, A, and T. That will teach the alphabet.

Poetic Movie Review of Spider-Man: Homecoming

Spider-Man Spider-Man
Who cares, there's iron man
Can he sling from a web?
Doesn't matter
Because he's a bad friend
Unlike the past movies
This one treats it's villain true
He's villainous but human too
This movie has call backs
Surprise attacks
A Spider-Man
Who has no plan
A Peter Parker
Without a father
Though he has a figure
He's not a good person
In that he sucks at his normal life
And as Spider-Man, he gets a hella strife
The movie portrays a real new york
Not one created by an MIT dork
Mentions of marvel greats
Contemplations of a hero's fate
He acts young
And dumb, like he is
He's funny and he's smart
Though a failure
He's a hero at heart
Bright visuals and a long run time
With a pace that won't ruin your life
With this in mind
This is the only spider Man
That earns 5 out of 5

Top 10 Best Cartoons

1. Danny Phantom

I won't take it off the list. He is half ghost and half person. It is like the coolest idea in the world. And he has to keep it a secret from his parents.

2. Steven Universe

He is half gem and half person. It is like the coolest idea ever. Plus, he doesn't have to keep it a secret from his parents, because of them is dead.

3. Yugioh!

He is half pharaoh and half person. It's like the coolest idea ever. Plus, he doesn't have to keep it a secret from any of his parents, because we never see them.

4. Dragon Ball Z

Some of the characters are half sayian and half human. It's like the coolest thing ever. Plus, it is diluting their alien bloodline so it will be hard to kill a space cat.

5. Devil May Cry

He's half demon and half (spoiler). It's like the coolest idea ever. And he doesn't keep it a secret, because it takes away from he fact that his father is basically Satan!

6. Catdog

He's half cat and half dog! It's not really the coolest idea ever, but you know it exists.

7. Hercules

He is half God and half human, like a demi god. This show is actually pretty good. Plus, it has an Icarus. Like Smallville with a half-god.

8. Attack on Titan

The main character is half (spoiler) and it is okay I guess.

9. Inuyasha

See what I'm doing?

10. Gravity Falls

Everything is half of something else. It is a show. It is a mystery

One Simple Invention

This a simple invention. The premise is a database where you can look up characters from different seasons they appeared in movie or shows.

Want to know what Ted looked like in season 2 of How I Met Your Mother? You can do it. How about comparing it to how he looked in episode six? You can do that?

Why would this be important? It isn't. That's the beauty of everything. It is basically just an app that allows you to be a consumer some more. I mean pretend fidget spinners sold pretty well.

It's an idea.

It's wacky.

The Final Chapter of Contractual Obligations

Z.

A smidge of oxygen leaked into your lungs, and you came back to life. The cash register, which you expected, was not present. The soundtrack, which you expected to hear, was not present. Instead you were lying down inside of a cracked glass tube. Your extremities felt numb, but other than that you were unharmed.

Around you, caked in equal parts dust and darkness, were crates of limes. You peeled your bare back from the glass and slithered your way onto the the cold cement. You didn’t remember this reality or this universe. It wasn’t one of the original 25 that you remembered.

In the far distance, you could vaguely hear an ominous organ. Your soundtrack must have been unfreezing somewhere separate. As soon as it caught back up to you, you’d have a better idea how much trouble you were in.

“Hello?” You screeched into the darkness, trying to stand on your rubbery legs.

“Hello,” someone said back. The legs you had once trusted, now felt boneless, folding in on themselves.

“Who’s out there?” You said. Luckily, it didn’t sound like the Devil had already found you. That would have been terrible. Instead, a lumberjack made it’s way to you. He had a nice burly beard, and a glimmering ax slung over his shoulder.

“The last lumberjack! Ever since the war, there can only be two. You were created to be the other one. We grew you in this tube, unsure of who you would become.” It was then that you realized the room was triangular, almost like someone had broken the fourth wall, leaving only three.

“I’m a… a… lumberjack?”

“Not exactly. You are a cumulative effort between the lumberjacks and the angels to create the perfect hybrid with myth and human.”

“A science experiment?”

“For the betterment of everyone. Haven't you heard of Mill’s General Happiness Principle? We screwed you over to save everyone else.” The Lumberjack reached into a random crate limes and tossed you one. “Take a bite. The effects of the lime will counteract all of the time you’ve been in cryo-stasis.”

You took a bite from the citrus and the bones in your legs hardened. In a solid ten seconds, you could finally stand up completely straight. It was possible that fruit was more magical than you had initially thought, but you weren't really sure. Nor did it really matter.

“While the Devil was running her little mind experiment, we were busy creating you. There isn’t a you in this you-niverse, so we needed to create one.” You looked down, and it was then that you realized you had no belly button.

“So, my life is trivial?” You felt the interior of your mind constrict. Consciousness was sweeping through you, and the sting of breath pushed into your lungs. This is existence. Your mind popped and crackled to life. A pain radiated through your chest. Seconds, if not minutes, ago, you hadn’t existed, and you may very well never have existed if the pod had never opened.

“Not unless you’re fond of trivia about saving the universe from a transdimensional demon,” the lumberjack said. You felt like you had already learned that lumberjacks were mythical creatures, and that Devil was after you. A warm tingling sensation overtook your brain, and it felt like warm water was dripping down your ear. The lumberjack took a step closer to you, and clicked your neck back. A disk popped out of your neck. The word Bland was written across the front.

“This isn’t your disk. We know this disk doesn’t work.” The lumberjack ripped the disc from your neck and tossed it across the room. You heard it clamber against a far wall and shatter into several pieces.

The lumberjack opened a new CD, and you felt the cool disc press into your neck. It was empty and hollow in comparison. In fact, the music you had been hearing, all but faded away from existence. It was replaced with the slight hum of white noise. The hum drowned out everything you attempted to think.

“Soon, you will be ready to take on the Devil. She won’t know what hit her.” From there, the lumberjack was the only person you saw. He forced you to train in the hot sun to simulate the heat of the Devil’s wrath. The blazing sun was enough to fry your skin to a deep red. From then, every night that you tried to sleep, the heat was trapped under your skin until you were angry. Until you were ready to kill the lumberjack.

“What are you trying to do to me? I’m a person!” You screamed.

“You aren’t a person. You’re a mindless killing machine,” the lumberjack said without hesitation. Without thinking, your anger manifested as fire from your mouth, and you went to bite the lumberjack. He was keen to pull the ax from his belt and swing, luckily he stopped just short of cutting your face off. The resulting strike split your tongue down the center, causing the fire to fall back into your gullet.

“You’re lucky,” he said, but you really didn’t feel like it. From that day forward, you were locked into the glass dome that you been born from. Without a blanket and without music. You wanted your album back, you wanted everything back. You wanted your bland life back, but it was out of reach. You probably would never get a real life back.
A day later or a year later, whichever, time was strange to you, the lumberjack woke you up. As you awoke, an alarm filled the cement room you slept in. It was deep red with an acid trumpet sound. You had been briefed over the alarm by him before. It was the alarm that sounded once the Devil made her way to your Z-niverse. Your job was to kill her, because that was destined in lumberjack lore. Bright arrows illuminated your path down a cement hallway.

“She should be here soon,” the lumberjack screamed from the main room. You slid in there, ready to fight the Devil.

“Where is she?’ You screamed.

“Right behind you! Look out!” But when you turned around, nobody was there. You could see your shadow playing against the wall with its edges burned orange.

“She isn’t behind me,” you said to the lumberjack.

You fazed into your shadow, feeling the demonic powers shift through your body. They created you. They thought they needed you, but you were the thing they were supposed to avoid. Your mind was an uncontrollable mess of evil and darkness. The darkness opened up to the sunset. As you walked across the rocky bluff you appeared on, you saw the sun and moon close to each other. Again, you could hear a song from bland. It was the one that played after the register closed. You contemplated the evil inside of you, wishing that it would fade away, but it was yours. You could choose how to use it or when to use it, but you could never be rid of it.

You walked towards the edge feeling the music shift back into your ears as you contemplated good and evil. You hummed for a moment and then sang.

“Sold my soul to the Devil for 50 cents.” It dawned on you though that the Devil was never going to appear here. She was never destined to make it here. The entire time, you were destined to be her. There were too many firewalls for her to get passed, but that didn’t stop something from growing within the walls.

You came to a sudden stop at the edge of the cliff and so did your album. If you were always destined to kill the Devil that implied you were destined to…. Your mind couldn’t actually complete the idea. You stood there, looking towards the sunset and listening the slow violin music seep into your album.

You wondered if the album could be changed. Clearly it could be molded in different ways, but it always snapped back. If it could never be changed, then that meant neither could you. If it was able to be stretched, maybe you could change. The darkness inside couldn’t be all that you were. The sunset continued to set and the album gained a slight crescendo, building towards something new. Once the sun completely set, you knew you would have to make a choice by moonlight, but no matter what happened you would have your own personal music. It would play in your heart and in your head, because it was yours, and it was the beat that you walked too.

The final glimpse of sunlight flickered away and you heard the quarters again. 50 cent seemed so small sometimes, but it could also bring so much joy to a child. Maybe you sold your soul for joy. Even if you were destined to hell, you could make the best of what you had. You would have to decided either way, because this was your last choice, but it wasn’t the final one.

Rain: Poem

Rain on the windshield of life
Falling with each expectation
With uncertain direction
Though it sticks to glass
The water clutches itself
Clinging to the notion of self
It is not

No.
Rain is but a small part
Of a larger ideal
Splashing from window to ground
Without a single sound

Not a part of one
A part of all
Draining from pond
To stream to creek
To the unbelieved

No.
It splits and folds
Becoming one
With the nothing
Becoming a whole
Of something

 No.
It slips and falls
Shudders and breaths
Don it isn't a living thing
It's a small piece
Of something large

Yes.
It keeps going
Beyond the waterfall
Becoming part of all
A small importance
In an ocean of forever
And it's together

Dr. Hounchell's Theory of Life and Everything: Ceiling

Today's topic: Ceiling

The ceiling is a lie. It may have fans. That is fair, and it is true.

I live in a two story apartment and the bottom level... their ceiling is also my floor. It is lies.

But this comes down to a much different problem. Words. Words are created for function. If we don't have the ceiling than we have the really close sky. If we don't have that we have the roof. Yet, the roof is the outside of the ceiling.

These things exist for a reason, but they are created to subjugate ourselves to lies.  Words can only convey the logic of what can be expressed through sounds that have assigned meaning, which meas you may never get to describe the feeling you get when your teeth hurt after biting into an aged chunk of cheddar cheese.

Let's make one now so that feeling is easy to express in the future. Blanpen. That is the feeling you get when you bit into a chunk of aged cheddar and it hurts your teeth.

So next time you get someone on their grammar or tell someone their vocabulary is small, remember that only ideas conveyable with available words are expressible.

I'm insane. Maybe not.,

Five original about the couch

1. The vampire couch chased down the werecar so that it could get to the Amish family of three.

2. Kiwis flew out of the couch like cannonballs as we sailed the open blue, searching for the reason behind death.

3. If any of my furniture could talk, the couch would have the most to say, only because it is facing the TV.

4. "You can't be the best man, because my couch is the best man."

5. A couch is just a narrow bed with a back.

Pretend Balloons

This idea won't make a billion dollars overnight but that isn't really the point is it?

How it works:

These are balloons, but they don't need to be filled with helium. Instead they are just balls with a string dangling from that are suspended from the ceiling.

That way, you don't need helium for that two year olds party. We need helium

Ode to Junkrat

Having one leg
G'day mate
Having one arm
Still going do some harm
Hair of fire?
That's my desire
Throw a bomb
Explode to hell
But don't worry
Because can't you tell?
Fire in the hole
It never ever gets old
One more explosion
Made from improvisation
Boom goes the dynamite
And you just might...
Just kidding you're going to die
But hey, I'll get play of the game
Deliver the payload just the same

Writing Prompt 50?

This one is easy. All you have to do it look up from where your computer is. The first appliance or inanimate object you see is the thing you have to focus on.

Now, what you need to do is imagine that tonight at three in the morning that object comes to life for the first time. And you have to write what it does. Go go go go. I picked the toaster.

Top 10 Things to Be A Writer

1. Alcohol or Depression

Not authors are troubled in form or another, so if you have this you have most of what you need.

2. A Pen

You know to write with.

3. A laptop or keyboard or typewriter

You know, to write.

4. Insomnia

So you can stay up long nights trying to put together really scatter brained ideas.

5. Coffee

See the above reasons

6. Personal Demons

Ones that can grant wishes to give you great ideas for novels.

7. Persistence

You'll really need this if you are hoping to send things off to a publisher.

8. Luck

You know. Persistence in passivity.

9. Stick if dynamite

It'll become clear later.

10. Money

Because you still have to eat.

First Rule of Crime

Who doesn't like a little light petty thievery?

Not me, I'm a law abiding citizen. But if you like crime and you are okay with the completely justified repercussions then this is for you.

Rule #1:

Be calm and confident. Calmfident if you will. The point is to take on the score with an aura of "that guys wouldn't steal from us." If you are accused of stealing, just say calmly "what are you talking about." Act like you belong, even when you are wearing an eye patch.

People can smell when others don't belong. It's the middle schooler in us all.

Dr. Hounchell's Theory of Life and Everything: Revenge

Today's Topic is revenge!

Why would we have it? Why you say?

I have an actual idea! So revenge is a personal problem or need to prove yourself to someone. Whether that be to destroy them or improve yourself, it is hard to know.

Regardless, I think that revenge is a thing that your body takes advantage of. As in, revenge forces you to have drive. Revenge ogives you a reason to live. It gives you a reason to survive, so as such it is a fight or flight response.

It keeps you alive in your most broken state. Revenge is a method to take your mind away from our state and hyper focus on something or someone else, which is people swear vengence when they are in bad places.

See?

Poetic Review of Anaconda

I'm doing this one from memory
But do you know why?
Because the premise is the title
It wasn't dreamt up by a genius or science guy
Then point is there's a snake
And the snake is absurdly large
And it's about to take charge
It goes on a rampage
Akeen to King Kongs rage
Squeezing the life
From the dull casts eyes
Why are they surprised
Don't they realize
The music gives the snake away
Haven't they seen Jaws, anyway?
It could have been avoided if they'd just left
That would be too easy, none for them said
It's a B-List horror movie
The biggest of it's kind
At least in it's time
The smart premise don't this year
Would be about a half snake, half bear, with elephant ears
So I least it is understated
And that is understood
With this in mind
I give this movie
1 out of five

A Writing Prompt

This is a writing prompt. 

Imagine that you or a character have just won $1,000,000, but they cannot spend it on something that will specifically benefit them or you.

What would the person in question spend the money on, if forced to be unselfish?

Poetic Movie Review of Baby Driver

Baby has music in his heart
A ringing in his ears
But take his psyche apart
And you can see his fears
A Devil behind the wheel
So, that's what they say
If you need a getaway
He's here any day
But he isn't evil
At least outwardly
He's got a buddy
One running the shot
And a darling bringing him coffee
Oh oh so hot
It's bat shit crazy
It's my job to know
A mayhem induced reality
Mixed with old-fashioned musicality
But the goal is to drive
So drive to the goal
He puts pedal to the metal
To the sounds of alt metal
Rob a bank with Baby at the wheel
And there's no need for a baby that's real
He isn't slow, surely not dumb
But Edgar Wright sure knows how to have fun
It's effortlessly paces
And it's a moral race
Do one thing bad
Turn and thirteen good
In the end, take your coffee black
And never take any flack
With this in mind
Four out of Five

Time Zone: Poem

A time zone
Set alone
That was this moment
Struck into fine film
Melted into the floor
A time zone
More than that
A moment we can stop and respect
Ask if I remember
And I do
The moment hang in the air
Like a cloud at a fair
Ominous, not creepy
Hard to understand completely
Stopped in the moment
But you continue on
It's a time zone
Just move along
Then you try to fade
Back to the moment in the day
But you never left
You were always there
Standing frozen in midair
A suit on your back
With a shiny tie tac
Ask if I remember
And I'll say I do.

Cooler Than Cool

So I know that I have had this idea in the past, but this is one of my favorite invention ideas, and I think it is by far one of the most profitable. The plan is to have an insert that you palace into the freezer that you can put into your pillow, so that your pillow is extra cool for a longer period of time, but it had other uses.

The insert itself could be used as a cold compress or as an ice pack for ones back or any other reason someone might need a cool flat object.

Is this the best idea ever? Nah. That goes to the ceiling fan air freshener clips, but this is an amazing idea. Go make money and giving me a cut.

Tokyo Story #7?

This is one of the cutest things that I was able to pull off. Somehow our backpack that we took to Disney Sea sort of leaked brown liquid everywhere, so we bought a new one, and a poncho, because it was raining.

After it stopped raining, I folded the poncho into a side bag, because I have those kinds of skills. Later later, when my Wife and I were wandering around Ariel's Grotto, she went to the bathroom and I vanished.
I was able to purchase for her a Duffy (the stuffed Bear Mascot of Down Sea) and stuff it into my side bag, which I created.

Later later later, we decided not to go back to Disney Sea because we were work out and I had the blister of doom on my little toe. Thus my Disney freak of a wife was disappointed that she didn't get her Tokyo exclusive Disney item. But then I presented it to her and she was so estatic.

Dr. Hounchell's Theory of Life and Everything: Hats

Today's topic is Hats.

Why hats you say? Because hats are something I see everyday.

A hat on a guy. A hat on a girl. A hat on the entire world. A hat on a penguin or a bear. Hats on anything, because who cares.

But hats are sinister, maybe evil. What hides under their layers through and through? What hides in their depths? Hats are clearly created to control weak minded humans. They have parasites on their heads. Probably. Maybe not. Hats seem strange though. Unless you're bald then all at it.

Poetic Movie Review of Lion King 2

Long Live the King Scar Said
Simba had a dad, he's dead
Still in the clouds, I see
But now this new guy
This black lion from the beyond
Not Scar the other one
Not to say, he has no Scar
Just that he isn't him by far
Falls in love with Simba's daughter
This plot, at least, isn't about water
The acting is good
Like I knew it would
Worth it's sequel
That's a musical
A beautiful piece of literature
In a movie form for sure
Animation
Best in the nation
With this in mind
5 out if 5

Top 10 Things About the Fourth of July

1. Trash.
Who doesn't like burning trash all over their yard.

2. Hotdogs.
Who doesn't like meat byproducts covered in ketchup.

3. Explosions
Who doesn't like losing a thumb. Fish don't have thumbs and they do just fine.

4. Four
Independence Day comes in a time when there isn't a holiday for a while, so that's nice.

5. Waiting.
Who doesn't like waiting to watch money literally go up in flames.

6. Flags.
Because I love how great flags look as a fence between me and my neighbors.

7. Day Of the Living Banker
Because who doesn't like old fogies in white wigs hanging out with you and your friends.

8. Abraham Lincoln
I love this guy.

9. Lemonaid
People drink this and beer on the four and I love drinks.

10. Hamburgers.
Who doesn't like circles of brown meat! Covered in squares of salty yellow milk. Covered again the blood of a fruit.

My Ten Favorite Rooms

1. The living room, because it is where I do my living. It is also where the couch is and the tv and the PlayStation.

2. The Kitchen, because the kitchen has food. And it has the sink. And it has the pantry. If it were a zombie apocalypse then the kitchen might be moved up to number 1.

3.  The Office, because that is where the computer and desk are and I like writing. I like it very much. A wooden desk and a beautiful place.

4. The Dining Room, because it is where I do my dinning. I eat my food that I got from the kitchen here.

5. The Portal to a Transdimensional plane in the Basement Room, because this the room I go to when the night serpent comes.

6. The Basement because I know it will bother the people that know it isn't a room. It is an entire floor.

7. The garage, because I've found all the treasure that I have ever found in the garage. Those gold skulls, that monkey's paw, and that chalice.

8. The Attic, because of similarities to the top one. And I like the sound of footsteps coming from up there. Once in a while I hear someone growling.

9. The Panic Room under my Bed, because I can hide from the night serpent and eat my biscuits down there from kitchen.

10. Bathroom, because the shower is in there. And showers are the only defence against tornadoes.

Poetic Movie Review of Despicable Me

Despicable me
Despicable you
Got a pointed nose
His name is Gru
And he wants to steal the moon
He's terrible an evil
But the plot is thin
But his only friends
Are yellow minions
Though it's animated disproportionate
It isn't quite enough to despise
It's short
With a bit of convoluted plot
But it's soundtrack has heart
Though the tale is silly
At least it's happy
The voice acting is nice
The textures are smooth
And both apply to Gru
Be do be do
The plot isn't Disney
That you can surely see
But you got to hand it to illumination
It's a fine movie
With that in mind
And the colors in tow
3 out of 5

Fourth of July

You like money? Of course. Do you have a marker? Probably. It is probably just hanging out somewhere! So what should you do? What do you think?

It is the fourth if the July. The 4th! Why don't you by some typical paper played and napkins and just write 4-t-h and sell them for a double markup!

All you have to do is repackage them!

Or alternatively, you can charge admission to see your personal fireworks... Even though people would only have to look up.

If this going to make a million dollars? No. But maybe $39

Dirty Shirt

"What does it hurt?"
You say to no one
Just you and a dirty shirt
But it's the only one
The blue stain
That you cannot explain
A red feather
An a thread of leather
This shirt has seen it all
But it can't explain
It's on a ride
And can't decide
Without a fate
It can't hesitate.
You want to be this shirt
At least you think
What could it hurt?
To be a patchwork of stains
That way you don't have to strain
Why can you be a shirt?
You with you could explain.

Poetic Movie Review of Circle

An idea as pure as a circle
Representing ideas, eternal
We choose our fate
Through debate
In the end evil whens
But that just depends
Because we all die
At the end of our life
Racism, ageism, sexism, ableism
All explored through a circle
Because the bad like the good, it internal
It isn't the theoretical
Or hypothetical
This movie has a low budget
And a mere single set
Buy it addresses concepts I can hardly forget
The lines are delivered bad
But they're real people, so I'm glad
A quite diverted lot
Good enough for the universe
It isn't a plot driven idea
But rather a character ideal
I'm surprised by the end
But all in all, with this in mind
Three out of five

Another brilliant idea: Programmed

Programmed is an attachment for a television that makes it so the TV only runs for the length of time a treadmill had been ran on in that day.

Theoritically, you could also run on it too watch TV as you are running. There was an episode of Simpsons that made me think of this.

Anyway, it would probably never work, but it would be a good indicator of how long to run and also how much you stay near your TV.

Maybe a couple thousand dollars worth of an idea.