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

Ever wondered what a balanced breakfast is?

Let me tell you!

Commercials and parents are always talking about balanced breakfast. But for some reason that includes handfuls of sugar, and a pretend cupcake.

See a cereal commercial and it tells you, part of a balanced breakfast. It is marshmallows and sugary sawdust, what is balanced with? Does it just mean balanced on the table, probably? I must send a letter to Lucky Charms and ask them to tell me what I need to balance my breakfast.

Eggs? Toast? Orange juice? Milk? Apple? Glass of water? Oatmeal?

Because if so, then cereal is just lies. It is hardly white weird liquid mixed with ground up plants and saw dust. Meh, what do I know.

Let's Play the Cynic Game: Rereading

Hey, thanks for stopping by to see me ride my bi-cynical around the blog and back. Indeed, as an act of old style poetic form, I shall disagree with someone over a trivial subject. This will strengthen our powers, and it will provide a possible alternative to the ideals of other people lie cane sugar or sweet and low. Low in what? Calories probably, but also sweet flavor.

Unsurprisingly, people don't look at books they have already read. Why is this though? You would think that by loving something, you would want to go back to it eventually. Interestingly, maybe not.

1. Character Over Plot

Going back to reread a story would force a revival f the same boring plot. Theoretically with the influx of speculative fiction in the 20th century, people care too much about character and less about plot. In this day and age, characters span endless amounts of novels, and sometimes even after the death of their creator.

2. Worse Understanding

Know that movie you love from 3rd grade? Like Oliver and Company? Brave Little Toaster? Land Before Time 2: Journey to the Great Beyond?

Well unfortunately, not a single one of those movies hold up in the way that you want it too. Someday, I do believe you should go back and watch movies you loved and read books you loved again, but it will ruin how you feel about them sometimes.

Really, a book never changes. It can't. The reasoning anyone's understanding is different of an idea is because they have changed. They have grown. They've been experiencing while the book remains unchanged.

There is a similar phenomenon when you read a children's book or watch an old cartoon, and realize they are filled with quite explicit material.

3. There May Be No Reason To

Novels are typically formulaic, which forces different books in the same genre to be terribly similar. If you pick up a different horror novel, it may read like a Stephen King book for some periods of time. If you pick up a teen romance novel, you may find it impossible to figure out if John Green or Nicolas Sparks or the three other people who write teen romances exactly the same. Did John Green write the If I Stay? I don't know but he could have.

Genres and their conventions exist for the reader, so that they can easily find a book that takes place in space or might. A book worth Rereading uses either no traditional genre conventions or uses them in a new way.

I can't go back to yesterday - because I was a different person then. - Lewis Carrol

I'm not saying never go back. But, you will never enjoy something the same you once did. For better or worse. In sickness or health.

Remember that reading has its value if a story is written well, but the book can never change. Instead, you may find that the book had changed you.

A.M. in the P.M.

Go Go Mayo

I am the Mayo of Burgah Tahown
Want a favor? Or a flavor
I'm always down
Turn that frown upside down
You have a weird looking face now
Dont believe it
Just face it
You ain't gonna forget
I'm not the Mayo of Burgah Tahown
I'm some random guy in a wedding gown
Saw this computer up and runnin
Thought I'd write something funny
I am hearing footsteps now
Im gonna throw in the towel
First, Mayo is an egg head
Dont believe the lies that you've been fed

Wack Wednesday: Hatz with Strawz

Know what a beanie is?
Know what a straw is?
Ever felt like your head wasn't quite the right temperature?
Like drinks?
Wish the Venusians would let you back into their colony?
Stop, ignore that last one. My thought is, we could put a pouch inside the top of a beanie, that on a hot day you could fill with cold drinks or on a cold day with hot drinks. Then you will have an ideal temperature for incubating those ideas while also being able to drink. It is like a thinking cap with drinking.

Dr. Hounchell's Theory of Everything: Bad Ideas

Everyone has bad ideas. Steve Jobs probably had at least three of them. How can you take those crappy ideas and turn them into gold ideas. Well, let me teach you the three steps involved.

1. Let a bad idea occur naturally. Don't force it out, that would hurt. You would probably end up with something like "wear pig masks and rob a bank". It's been done.

2. Now that you have a bad idea, share it with no one. Or upload them to a blog one a daily basis, which ever.

3. Lock your bad ideas behind glass and force them to dance for your until you are inspired to make good ideas.

There you have it. You'll have good ideas in no time. No time meaning never.

Poetic Review of Ant-Man

Do you like heroes who can shoot lighting

Who never stop to joke and are always fighting?

Then Ant-Man

Is not for you, man

This movie has a lesson to be learned

Filled with a least one twist and one turn

It has a comedic undertones similar to Guardians

Except Paul Rudd has no friends

The special effects are splendid

Leaving you sad when it has ended

Ive never cried 

When an ant died

But prepare for the worst

This movie will hot you where it hurts 

It has somehow the most believable plot

I can't believe I had that thought

Powers, not magic but scientific

Not vague but not really specific

The acting is great and so is the sound

It takes new leaps in comedy, dare I say bounds

If you ever even had a heart

Then you would give this movie four out of five stars

5 Original Sentences: About Long Division

1. If you are trying to divide by zero, you are going to be in for a very long time devisioning it.

2. The most divine way to do math is very long division, where you pretend to be doing math for a very long time, then you die.

3. If you want to be able to figure out how many bananas are in the quadratic formula, imagine how many nobel peace prizes you have plus how many super powers you have, and now you know.

4. Martin Luther King is king of having di-vision, a long di-vision.

5. Why isn't there like a Batman villain called like the mathematician, and he goes to smoke pages of math books until he says, "your number is up."

Silly Saturday: I has a thought

You know what is interesting to me? A lot of things. So pat yourself on the back.

Regardless, the thing that is interesting me right now is that because of the internet, I will always be in the cloud. Even when I die, people will know what I was like. I wonder if they will be able to reconstruct my continues, and put it into a robot dog or something. So, that would be cool.

Finally, I could say, "Life is ruff." and I could say it as "ruff ruff ruff."

Poetic of Review of Titan AE

Titan AE
Is a movie that you gotta see
Imagine if Treasure Planet
Had an even more pouty teen, that you won't forget
His name is Cale
He cannot fail
Regardless, he is played well by Matt Damon
But, he is in everything, damn him
The story is hectic and amazing
With great special effects and lemon zing
The animation is down from days of old
When they had paper, instead of computers to fold
It takes on the look of an old disney movie
While being completely original, believe me
The score will get your blood pumping
And you'll feel adrenaline, or something
It's fun and there's nudity
Look closely, I'm sure you'll see
Regardless, if you like space
Then off to the discount video store, you race
Or perhaps Netflix can take its place
You're gonna go far
With that said four out of 5 stars

#ThisLikeThat Sharks and Tissues

#ThislikeThat

A tissue and a shark are so so similar, let me explain.

Tissues are like sharks because, I wouldn't want to get into water with either one. I'd be upset if either bit off my leg. Both are eerily soft. Both can be white. And finally, Sharks are Like Tissues because people wipe their face with tissues when they are sad, but since I am me, I wipe my face with sharks. I'm a man, man.

Wacky Wednesday: Secret Screen

I've been thinking in classes that sometimes I want to look something up, but phones are treated like some sort of portal to a reality where I don't care about my education anymore. Sometimes, I'll admit, that I just want to sneak in a couple of taps into a mobile game.

How could we ever solve this?

Easy, discrete objects that are seemingly books, but are actually high class tablets. The only thing they need is the ability to connect to the internet or 4G, a screen capable of a low brightness, and a few pages at the beginning that make it actually seem like a book.  

Millions for me.

The Exact Writing Exercise for You in 7 Steps.

Step One: Pick Up a book

Step Two: Put said book down

Step Three: Pick said book back up

Step Four: Turn said book to page 48

Step Five: Read the last sentence.

Step Six: Using this as a prompt, write a story.

Step Seven: Become Mildly successful. 

It is easy as long as you follow the steps exactly. 

5 Original Sentence: With Arrows

1. Design an arrow made of cheese, shoot my sandwich from a distance, please.

2. If the sun were the moon, and the moon were the sun, I'd be having more fun, after the strike of one.

3. The hot air balloon goblins, knew that they could switch the sun with the moon, but as long as no human was awake, there would be no proof in the sky, but  tiny arrow, captioned goodbye.

4. Once the the hot hair balloons, with faces of cats who needed to sneeze, invaded over Cleveland, those people thought they could shoot it down, not with a cannon, but with a bow and arrow.

5. One brave hero, name Cream Cheese Arrow, got into his banana time bubble of stuff, and he decided with a cheddar arrow, that enough was enough.  

Poetic Movie Review of Toy Story 2

It is a garage sale
Wheezy thrown away like browning kale
The voice acting is above par
Other golfing puns, with a cast of stars
The plot borrows from Star Wars
As the toys make their trek
Hoping Andy won't forget
A dual plot with two villains
Who share similar dreams, its thrillin'
Hardly as good as the first
But you should see it without being coerced
The animation is Pixar, story Disney
So, to your eyes and brain, it'll be friendly
It sets up some history
Offers some of Woody's back story
It truly shines in the soundtrack
You'll be humming the tune from Woody's show from way back
Gravity and sentience be damned
4/5, would see again

Prime Time for Crime: Samples

Let's talk samples and let's talk crime.

Obviously, crime is wrong, but let's take a look instead at possible cheats to get away with pretty petty things.

For example, Carpet samples. Everyone always thinks that it would be a good idea to use these as some sort of very strange checkered floor, but how bout instead f that dumb idea, you could use them as coasters. They wouldn't scratch the table, and they would be free and unique. Not cut them into circles and put them onto a rubber madding. You know what you have? A business where you can sell what you go for free for $5 a pop on etsy. You are welcome.

Dr. Hounchell's Theory of Everything: Drive Through

The concept of a drive-thru doesn't make sense to me. Really it is more of a drive up, or a stop and grab.

Imagine it, the McDonald's Stop n' Grab. Regardless, for the most part, I feel like I sit in my car longer than I would if I had been standing in line.

That raises the question though of whether a drive-thru exists as a time convenience or as a sitting convenience.

If it is indeed a time issue, a place like McDonald's could easily get away with a hyper line. Some sort of system where you hand over an exact amount of money and take prebagged items like big macs and fries or nuggets. It makes 100% more sense to me.

If it has to do with wanting to continue to sit, I won't stand for that.

Yes, this entire blog was made around that joke. You are welcome.

Five Original Sentences about Grapes

1. A grape could not explain how a person could like milk, mostly because they cannot speak, but also because they have no brain.

2. When a grape decides he wants to be in a vine, he goes to vine and he uploads a 7 second pitch about why.

3. If I were a grape, I'd probably not have a blog, because that would be strange.

4. In the great mushroom war, they used grapes as cannon balls and they called 

 them grape shot.                                          .

5. A grape does not hate, because that it not the

way of the grape.                                             .

Poetic movie review of Speed

In a rush
On a bus
A mad bomber thinks it to be just
Keep driving or bust
This movie predates saw
And breaks Newton's second Law
This isn't a thinking movie
This is just an absurd reality
The cool thing is that the action is in one space
A gasoline vs time kind of race
It is one of a kind
Kind of silly, if you don't mind
The plot is bad to strange
With a villain who is deranged
But the story progresses quick
The bus rushes off lickity split
It also spawned a dumb sequel
A cruise ship that can't stop, equal
They blew up a real plane
I don't know why, let the director explain
This bus will go far
But unfortunately it gets 1.5 stars

Dr. Hounchell's Theory of Everything: What if I were a Tree

I had this thought today. An interesting though, I would say. I understand that different people have different preferences and different tastes, on pretty much everything. I know that to some degree that these are shaped by our individual experiences. I had a different idea though about how we gain particular attributes. such as my affinity for writing or Michael Jordan's affinity for being in Space Jam.

Reality exists as it does because matter cannot be created nor destroyed. This means that in theory and in practice, we are all preexisting molecules that have come together from previous aspects of reality to form an entirely new being. Which means that in theory, any number of the molecules that make up my body could have actually come from any given book. That means that any person's preference could come from an atom that they got their being, or partial parts of it from.

Gotcha with science.

6 Original Sentences: Sports

1. The arrow soared through the widow, into the pad of butter, and gently grazed a slice of bread before striking its target.

2. Why isn't the argument that an american football looks more like a foot then a futbol?

3. You can eat loaded nachos, while you watch the loaded bases.

4. Just as the Chicago Cubs were about to win the sports contest, a mole person sprang from the earth, proclaimed the ball to be its egg, and crawled back into the ground.

5. I need a pair of blogging shoes, because all I own is tennis and basketball shoes, and I only know that they both have teams, balls and nets.

Poetic Movie Review of Cinderella

Today is: Cinderella (disney)

Her name is Cinderella
She takes so much crap, she needs an umbrella
Her dreams and her aspirations
Are to go to a castle destination
Like other movies from this era, and to its defense
It doesn't stray beyond the white picket fence
It's interesting as a portal of a classic
With unique songs that I think fit
Not just that, but there's a cat
His name is Lucifer, can't beat that
For others Disney movies of its generation
This one has the best PG fairy tale iteration
That being said
This story is better read
It also spawned a second and a third movie
The latter of which restarted the timeline, apparently
It does its job, it's okay
2ish stars out five, on a good day

Honest Confession: Do I Exist

I was honestly considering that I didn't exist, because I couldn't find myself on a popular background search website. This seems silly, I am not gonna lie. Consider though that right this moment, I have 30 tabs open with different searches I tried.

I found my father I've never met. People from high school. My best friend. My fiancee. My grandfather. People from high school.

And yet, I haven't found myself. I can't get anyone to confirm right now that I do in fact exist, but I'll go out of my way to say yes, yes I do. But it is a strange thought that not only can not being part of the group make me feel excluded, it can also make me feel like I don't exist.

It also makes me feel like I might be a deep cover spy.

For Science Experiment

At my job in a mall, I decided to execute some science. This means I was to put four different coins on the ground and wait for them to be picked up. I am publishing my results here.

Penny: The penny was picked up in 14-15 minutes. Unfortunately, I was unable to see who picked it up. Several people stepped on it or kicked it without picking it up.

Nickel: The Nickel was picked up in 2 minutes and Thirteen seconds by a young girl who was maybe four. She was excited.

Dime: the dime was picked up in 37 minutes and 35 seconds by an adult woman maybe in her 20s. It had been passed up because it was on tails.

Lastly was the quarter: It was picked up I'm 24 minutes an 50 seconds by a young girl of perhaps four and de was excited.

Conclusion: Adults are dumb and unobservant

DR. HOUNCHELL'S THEORY OF LIFE AND EVERYTHING

I'm not quite sure why people won't try new things and how new of a concept it is not to like change. If I were to walk around with a hotdog covered in chocolate sauce, people would look at me funny. Yet, if I were to dip salty and oily fries in cow milk, sugar, and chocolate that has been turned into ice cream, I would be normal to some degree. So how did we get this way? Also, would it be good to eat chocolate sauce On a hotdog! I don't know and for so!e reason I don't want to try! Still strange.... I had this idea.

Floor? Ceiling?

Why do we call it a ceiling? Because it is above us, but even the room can be the floor. If I stand on te wall is it the floor. Is anything the floor if I am under it? The floorboard of my car is the undercarriage if I am under it. Even ceiling tiles could be floor tiles...? Does this mean that there are no actual ceilings, and that everything is a floor when we stand on it? Which means there are no limits.

Page 6

Like an answer, the rabbit hopped deeper into his hideaway and deeper into the darkness. The walls of the rabbit cave slanted into the ceiling to a single point. I didn’t think that the hole had been in the top of a hill, but with my shoulder the way it was, I wasn’t about to climb back the way I came. At the other end of the cavern, the rabbit was only slightly glowing, but I could still see it even in the darkest portion of the cave.

I dropped the story and headed towards the rabbit. Once I entered the darkness, the rabbit was sitting there, waiting for me. “Do you have a name little guy?” The rabbit didn’t talk again, and instead continued his hopping into the darkness. “What about Hopper?” The rabbit stopped, stood still as stone, and he pulled his ears close to his body. “Yeah. I guess that is more of a grasshopper’s name.” The rabbit continued forward, and I followed him. “Fuzzy?” The rabbit’s ears flicked up and done. “You liked that one?” Again, the ear flick.

I was having a conversation with a bunny. “I’m crazy,” I stated. The rabbit’s ears flicked up and down. “So, that it isn’t even a yes. It is just a natural reflex.” The ears flicked again. “Of course.” The rabbit stopped at the edge of the darkness and glanced up. His glow illuminated the feet of a statue. I scooped him up, so I could use him to look at the statue.

Fuzzy’s glow illuminated the entirety of a statue and the three directly behind the first statue. “What is this?” Of course, the bunny still didn’t talk, because he was a bunny. All four of the statues had looks of fear planted on their face like they had been caught whilst screaming. There were three statues of girls and one of a guy. The girl that Fuzzy had been looking at had a backpack on her back, I could see a set of stone headphones peeking from the flap. The guy had a crossbow mounted on his arm, and I didn’t have to look at the other two girls to know who they were, because of Dante’s book.

5 original Sentences from ROOT

1. After the octopus people took over the world, and humanities extinct, wayward buffalo could touch necks.

2. The psychic watermelon was able to harness the evil of cheese to stop the lime.

3. If you stare at stairs, will they eventually become Sara?

4. When watched a pot will not boil, because it as sage fright or something.

5. On the side of a can, you can see that t is a can, and you an read what is on the can.

Page 5

The rabbit zigzagged through the maze. We smashed into a clearing between the corn, and I could see the sore in the ground that the rabbit had come from. My last act of desperation was to dive for the little rabbit, but he had the same idea. My hands wrapped around him, and I felt my adrenaline surge through my chest. Our hearts were moving at the same pace as I slammed into the rabbit hole. The sore in the ground cracked around the edges as I fell through the ground an impossible distance. I landed shoulder first at the bottom of thirty foot high rabbit cave. The hole above was like a skylight out of my reach.

I rolled, trying not to feel my shoulder ache, while making sure I hadn’t crushed the rabbit to death. Luckily, the rabbit was still kicking, which meant I wasn’t alone at the very least, I pulled the wedge out of his mouth and let him go. Rather than run away, he just sat there and watched as I unfolded the pieces of notebook paper. It was four pieces of numbered paper. On first page the title was written in bold letters, The Magic Rabbit. According to the byline, someone name Jen wrote the story.

“Why would you have this?” I asked the bunny. His little nose twitched, and he scratched one of his ears with his huge back foot. “Hmm.” Even with the minimal light, I was able to ascertain that the story was about a magic rabbit, but nothing substantial happened in the story, and as far as I could tell it ended mid-sentence with the word ‘twisted’. On top of that, it was covered in tiny splotches of moldy grease. “What is this?” I asked again, but obviously the rabbit didn’t talk back. Rabbits couldn’t talk, but the more I thought that, the more I thought back to the book laying in my room. Could this be the fabled rabbit from Alice in Wonderland?

Poetic Review of Secret Life of Pets

The secret life is not what you'd expect

And is an interesting Concept

In the vein of finding Nemo 

This is a rescue mission kind of show 

Let's watch these pets relax

Let's go and rescue max

Then the quite life of a dog gets a nuke

In the form of a huge dog named Duke 

So as hijinks ensue 

You'll see what the pets will due

Interestingly like finding Dory 

I guess Marlin is in this story

In the form of a Hawk 

Plus theres a rabbit that picks locks

As dumb as this could have been 

It actually had depth interested end

It is surprising by at the least 

It is a 3 out of 5 piece 

Page 4

My father was out spraying the crops, and my mother was probably in town getting food, but I couldn’t directly see either one of them. That was good enough, I didn’t need to be hassled about how I mowed the lawn anyway.

I moved like a ribbon towards the barn, sighing at the sight of the riding lawnmower’s shredded frame. It was always ruined. It was finicky, and the slightest rock under the deck ripped the blades off of their support. Either I could attempt to fix it, or I could use the old push mower. One way would have me start mowing in a few hours and chewed out in the same set of hours. Or I could take a few hours to mow and still be chewed out, but it was my fault for not getting to it sooner.

The door seemed to pop open just before I touched it. Sitting in the center of the barn was the 100 year old push mower. It had a slight sheen to it, but there wasn’t any light pouring directly onto it. As I stepped towards it, trying to pinpoint the shimmer, I saw a baby white rabbit peek his head out from under the circular body of the lawn mower.

“What are you doing little guy? That isn’t really a good place to hide.” The rabbit scurried out from under the mower and paused in the center of the floor. I noticed that in the rabbit’s mouth was a folded wedge of lined notebook paper. “What is that?” His ears perked up, and he looked at me with his shimmering blue eyes. It was the same shimmer as the lawn mower. With a single step, I launched the rabbit forward. The white bundle of fluff pushed itself through a loose board in the barn and vanished back into the world.

As much as I didn’t want to be chewed out by my dad, I also wanted to learn more about the strange rabbit. It was so pure, like a white splotch on an otherwise burned piece of paper. Once I made it back through the door, the bunny was halfway across the field. “I shouldn’t,” I mumbled, but by mumbling it to myself, somehow I hadn’t even heard it. In a flash, I was running towards the rabbit, my ponytail was whipping behind me like an actual pony’s tail.

Page 3

I, personally had never been quite sure if Dante truly existed. It would be rather difficult to prove the existence of fictitious characters, when their remnants had long since passed. I glanced back out the window, watching the wheat flop around wildly in the breeze, reminding me oh so subtly that I would need to cut the grass.

Why someone hadn’t created a laser grid system to cut grass automatically was way beyond my comprehension. That was another aspect of Dante’s story that seemed entirely fabricated. For as much time that had gone by, no other examples of such adventures had ever been made apparent to the public. No one had found the Forbidden Library and absolutely no contact had ever been made with the actual lab where Vlad/Val/Maliki had created his serum. Nor had said serum been recreated. If such fantastical adventures had been had, how come they hadn’t happened again? Wasn’t history bound to repeat itself, or some similar sounding nonsense?

I lifted the book off of my nightstand and chucked it into the trash bin next to my bed. I no longer had any need for a children’s book. I stood, crossing my arms in defiance, and took one last longing glance at the book. It didn’t truly matter whether it had happened or not, and I left the room and the topic on that note.

I scampered down the hall and burst out the front door into the amazing bright light. The sun was warm on my face, the breeze flicked my hair around. As if saying, “Kylee, you don’t have to worry about the past, just enjoy the beautiful day. The amazing beautiful day. The wonderful beautiful day. The warmth of the amazing day.” I didn’t really imagine wind having a strong vocabulary.

Page 2

I lied on my back staring at the book, attempting to determine for myself whether or not Dante was real. It was one of life’s greatest mysteries, and there was no way I would ever know. At least that was what I had thought. I determined in that moment that Dracula couldn’t leave his novel, and that was impossible.

I set the book on my nightstand and glanced out the window. The light was pouring in through the clouds and splashing on the corn. I had chores to do in a few minutes, but I sat there a little longer. The book that I had obtained was handwritten, which wasn’t all that uncommon for Dante’s book in general.

Legend told that the original copy was handwritten, so lots of copies followed suit, attempting to replicate the original. Like the original was said to be, the one that was on my nightstand was caked in a stain that looked like long dried blood. Really good fakes would have brown blood like the one I had, and the crafter would be careful to make it look real.

Most people could spot an obvious fake easy enough by its bright red nature. No blood, vampire or human, was going to be red after 100 years. Typically, Dante’s handwriting was often the most creative aspect of the handwritten book. Some depicted Dante’s strokes as elegant, swift, and flourish ridden cursive. As beautiful as that often was, it was hardly likely for the vampire to have possessed such knowledge or precision, given his long stay inside the coffin. My copy was uniquely different, it attempted to express the handwriting of someone rushed, perhaps even frightened. It was choppy, sloppy, and looked as though it had been written by a pen long past its do not use date. There were even stains that recreated the drama of being left handed and smudging the pages of a notebook. Granted no historic record ever explicitly stated that Dante was left handed, nor did most historians believe he was. At the very least, the book seemed to be authentic in its recreation.