Look to the Skies and Let Out Your Existential Cries

HELLLLLLOOOOO!!!

I'm sitting up here in the usual place. I'm layered like a cake because it's 27° this morning. I'm not cold at all so I've finally met the weather on it's playing field and defeated it.

There's something interesting in the sky. There's two stars perpendicular to each other. One is bigger than the other. It's like the face of some lazy-eyed cosmic entity. It would be both awesome and terrifying if it was a actually face and it started smiling. But probably more terrifying.

 NASA saw something similar once and it kind of looks like the Killer Snowman from Jack Frost...

© NASA

Don't tell me you don't see it.

© Frost Bite Films 

Right now, I'm listening to "Through Glass." I don't know exactly what this song is about but I feel like I can relate to it. To be honest the only reason I'm not looking up the meaning of the song right now is because I feel like I'll relate to it all too well. And it's too goddamned early to be catching feels.

Speaking of feelings. I've been feeling weird this morning. I've been contemplating who I am and why I'm here. I don't have that shit figured out yet. And it feels like I'm the only person I know that doesn't. I don't even want to be in the career field I'm studying. I never did. I hate it. I don't care about money and I find myself trying to use money as a motivator to get through a hard as balls math class.

You know, I think this is the recipe for unhappiness. But there's one thing saving me. I'm so averse to genuine unhappiness, it's almost as if I can bend reality to make happiness. Sure I mope and complain and feel anxious. But there's one thing I know and love about myself. When I start suffering so bad that I'm actually causing myself harm, I'll change things.

So something in me likes this struggle. I just don't know what it is, yet.

But hell. That why I meditate.

Peace the fucking fuck out, hombres.

So I Ran a Slipknot Song Through A Gangster Translator...

Being a little bit bored, I decided to copy and paste the lyric's to Slipknot's Skeptic (which is a sort of eulogy to their late bassist Paul Gray) into one of those joke translator's that make you sound like a gangster. And boy, I could not have picked a better song.

Only when tha fates, Commiserate

Do we git a lil taste as unique

Da Libertine - Know what tha fuck I mean, biatch?

Hiroshima on a Sunday

Yo ass had a gift, you was a gift

But there’s always a goddamn catch

Blessin n' a cold-ass lil curse , Yo ass juiced it up work

Da Universe seems so much smaller

Legend, Bastards, Best playa, 

Why?

Why do tha limits gotta realign?

Hero, Martyr, Mystery, Dogg

Dude was tha dopest of us

Da ghetto aint NEVER gonna peep another wild-ass motherfucker like you

Da ghetto aint NEVER gonna know another playa as dunkadelic as you

Never be tha same, I want tha blame

To be assigned ta tha guiltiest one

It can't be done, cuz tha son

Was tha sucka they arrested

I be soopa-doopa fuckin pissed at all of this

Yo ass gotta know dat yo ass is sorely missed

Miraclez is real, They help you heal

They make you feel like thangs will git better

Father, brother, scapegoat, 

Why?

Why did we only git dis time?

Fighter, icon, Skeptic, God

Quit takin tha dopest of us

I won't let you disappear

I'ma keep yo' ass kickin it if I can't have you here

History may have its share

Of lunatics n' stars

But tha ghetto aint NEVER gonna peep another wild-ass motherfucker like you

Da ghetto aint NEVER gonna know another playa as dunkadelic as you

Da ghetto aint NEVER gonna peep another wild-ass motherfucker like you

Da ghetto aint NEVER gonna know another playa as dunkadelic as you

Skeptic, skeptic, skeptic, skeptic, skeptic, skeptic

Where is I supposed ta begin?

I’m cappin' fo' tha karma again

Feed tha meta up in tha machine

Believin it’s tha way ta be seen

Gone, is we alone?

Gone, is we alone?

Gone, is we alone?

Gone, our asses aint alone

I can't let you disappear

I'ma keep yo' ass kickin it if I can't have you heal

Us thugs was meant ta be Mackdaddys

Rule tha masses, run tha risk

And keep our systems clean

History may have its share

Of lunatics n' stars

But tha ghetto aint NEVER gonna peep another wild-ass motherfucker like you

Da ghetto aint NEVER gonna know another playa as dunkadelic as you

Da ghetto aint NEVER gonna peep another wild-ass motherfucker like you

Da ghetto aint NEVER gonna know another playa as dunkadelic as you

Da ghetto aint NEVER gonna peep (will never see)

Another wild-ass motherfucker like you (like you)

Like you (like you)

Like you

Oh my fucking god, that chorus. I don't know how cool Paul was with the urban community, but this feels like the hood sendoff they would've given him.

If I Could Turn Time Back the Chameleon Wouldn't Attack

What's up?

I'm sitting out here in the usual place listening to "I Will Return" by the Black Dahlia Murder. Good song that is. Whenever I'm somewhere and I have to step out, I think of the intro to this song.  The song is dope as fuck. It's about how all the one-percenters are going to preserve themselves in artificial bodies so they can return in the coming centuries and rule forever.

Cool concept for a Sci-Fi - Horror movie. A bit too deep for a melodeath song. Still sounds badass though.

© Metal Blade Records

Anyway I'm sitting out here in 29° weather that feels warmer than the 51° weather we had yesterday. I'm starting to think if Ray Charles were around today our state song would be called "Georgia You're On My Mind, But I'm Crashing at Cali's Till You Get Your Shit Together."

Anyway, I been thinking about some be stuff. I've been fighting a big Chameleon.

Not that kind of Chameleon....

©  Shutterstock

Not him either...

© Marvel Entertainment

 Yesterday, I was thinking about how confident, how chill and how laid back I can be in some environments. And then I contrasted that with the way I am in most of my classes and on campus. Jumpy, scared, and anxious. It's almost like I'm two different people. The fucked up part is that I'm not. I'm constantly putting on a face that's causing me all kinds of internal pain. 

Well to be honest, I kind of am fighting this guy.

© Marvel Entertainment

But for what?

In the name of acceptance? In the name of fitting in? 

You know something? I got so anxious editing this blog yesterday that I closed my laptop and never came back to it. At some point I have to ask myself for whose advantage is this?

And at some point you have to listen to the album that gave me the idea to word that the way I did...

© Warner Music Group

What is all of this for? All of this suffering? All of this anxiety that leads me nowhere but into a mental rut? All of little performances I put on for no one.?

I sure as hell don't benefit from it.

It's like there's a door between who I want to be and who I am but whenever I try to open the door everyone's eyes turn and stare at me. Except no one is really looking at me and I'm just being paranoid.

Despite all of this shame and guilt. I'll keep moving. It feels like someone gut-punched my emotions but what choice do I have? It's not like I can go backward.

Believe me, I would if I could...

Sorry about that. Sometimes, things will be a little deeper.

Peace the fuck out.

January 24, 2018: Hey, Do You Think Brad Wilk Has A Beard That Smells Like Milk?

Yeah, I know it doesn't makes sense, but making every title both rhyme and actually be relevant to the topic is fucking hard...

Hey, what's pooping?

So here I am again in this sitting area of which I don't know the name of. Outside at six in the morning. Getting my ass whipped by the wind.

I feel really cold. It's the same fucking temperature as yesterday, and I have more clothes on, yet somehow it feels way colder. 

Georgia weather, how I long to understand your ways.

I'm listening to "The Return" by Killswitch Engage. I feel like listening to music might distract me and make this process take unnecessarily long but #YOLO. 

Consider this me covering for the fact that I just used slang no one has said in at least five years...

© Sony Music Entertainment

I'm struggling to find a balance between writing a personal journal and trying to be funny for the blog. Which I have not visited for three days. I'm kind of ashamed that I missed posting for three whole days but the past is as valuable as spilled milk. No use crying over it.

"Goddamn, that was the last bit of Mayfield's in the fridge!"

© Shutterstock

I'm surprised I got up on time time this morning. I decided to take a nap at 7:00 last night and set an alarm for 45 minutes so I wouldn't wake up in the middle of the night.  Apparently my tablet didn't much like that I decided to take said nap on top of it and refused to wake me up. So I wound up choking myself awake (it happens) a whole two hours later. And my first reaction was "What time is it? What the fuck happened to the alarm?"

© Sony Entertainment

And then I reached under my pillow and found my tablet under it. (I don't know why I put it under there. When I'm sleepy I'm reasonably unreasonable.) But to be honest I probably wouldn't have woken up anyway.

Good times.

Despite all of that I slept pretty good. I had a dope ass dream. Me and two very famous female rappers that I won't name did some very nice things that I won't detail. 

I don't know why or how my brain came up with that dream, but if I could high-five that SOB I would. Because when I'm old and can't tell the shit I really did from dreams I've had, I'll be the happiest old man in the nursing home thinking of this.Who the fuck am I kidding there's no way in hell I'm going to live long enough to be in a nursing home.

Anyways, I got other things to today, like neglect my schoolwork.

Peace the fuck out.

January 23, 2018: The Weather Changes Stupidly as Nikki Sixx Influences Me

What the fuck is up?

After completing my power poses this morning, I feel like Superman. After walking outside I feel like the Human Torch if his powers were broken. I'm layered like a cake and it's 53° this morning. 

For the past two days, it's been in the twenties and no matter how hard I've tried to stay warm I've been progressively freezing my ass off. So this morning I put on three shirts and sweated down the hall thinking "I'm warm already, so I'm going to be alright when I go outside. I know this is gonna work." Why yes it did work.

If my goal was to damn near have a heat stroke at 5 AM.

If this kind of weird shit was going on in Ray's time our state song would be, "Georgia, That Old Tricky Ho Who Won't Ever Commit to a Single Temperature, On My Mind"

© Getty Images

So the moral of this story is to always check the weather before you head outside, kids. You never know when what was parka hoodie weather will all of a sudden become t-shirt and jeans weather. And guess what?

It's going to be cold as Antarctica again, tomorrow morning.

Anyways, I missed my blog post yesterday. But with good reason! I was running from Self-doubt. (What a great reason I've come up with here...) He came to avenge his brother, Anxiety, and I had to go gather my bearings for this fight. 

Juxtaposing everything with a relevant Rocky scene never gets old. 

(Until I wind up getting a cease and desist letter.)

© Chartoff Winkler

Classes went great yesterday. I didn't hit on too many girls. (And by too many, I mean more than two. Which is better than usual but nothing compared to my idol.)

None other than Mötley Crüe Bassist Nikki Sixx.

Alright, I feel like I rambled on for long enough.

Keep on being awesome.

Peace the fuck out.

January 22, 2018: Old Enemies Die Hard and Prompt Anime End Cards

Good fucking morning. 

I'm sitting out here in the same place I was yesterday. Except I don't know where my glasses are so I can't see, and there's a helluva lot more athletes out here. So basically it's the Mist Part 3.

Burger King doesn't have a fresh batch of fries to entice me across the street. 

It's cold as ice out here. I don't know exactly how cold because my tablet isn't connected to the internet and I can't check the temperature. But let me assure you. It's colder than Bruce Willis heart at least.

© Bauer Media Group

Enough puns though. Today is the first day of class. My first class is at 9:00 (Which is three hours from now.) I have ample time to not prepare. It's English II with the same teacher I took English I with last semester. He's chill as fuck so I'm excited to see what's going to happen today.

Then I've got Public Speaking at 3:00. Fifty percent of me is dreading getting up there and making a fool of myself. And the other fifty percent of me feels like I was born to be on a stage and can't wait to get up there and crush it. (Maybe because my former mentor is a public speaker? I don't know. They say you become your mentor.)

Also, I'm not at all sad to report that my opponent from yesterday fell into a coma last night and isn't expected to recover. 

Oh wait, the news report just came in!

He died!

Anxiety died last night!

This feels way more like a scene out of a Troma film rather than an inspiring sports drama.

© Chartoff Winkler

But wait!

A new challenger approaches. His name is Self-doubt...

Will Self-Doubt avenge Anxiety?

Will Burger King make more french fries?

Will I address any of this shit at all? 

All these answers and more on the next episode of 

Joe's (Totally Not) Diary!

Plus ten non-consecutive minutes of standing around in a field screaming.

© Toei Company

Fighting Anxieties and Being Inspiring

Hello. Hello. Hello. 

I'm so tempted to put an Adele joke here but I did something too similar yesterday.

However that won't stop me from sharing this picture in the name of 

... science.

I'm back in Columbus, right now. I'm sitting in this area they have in the front of the campus. You can walk up to it from the street. I used to come up here and blast music on Sundays religiously, but I let my anxiety (and refusal to charge my speakers) get the better of me and stopped. There's a Burger King not even a 100 feet away. It smells like burnt fries out here.

Speaking of anxiety, I made a decision last night. I had just gotten done unpacking my bag, and I was feeling anxious again. I didn't want to leave my dorm. But I remembered everything I did over the break to improve myself. I accepted a couple harsh realities and said "Fuck it." I told myself that the anxiety I felt was foolish because I wasn't guilty of anything. I made a decision to always be my own corner man. I decided to fight my negativity with everything within me. And I won the battle. 

An artist's rendition of what went down last night...

© Chartoff-Winkler Productions

So with senseless anxiety becoming another rung on my belt, I decided to go blogging in the student center. And I surprised myself. On the ten minute walk from my dorm to the student center, I oozed confidence and charisma. That was my first confirmation that all of the work I've done hasn't been for naught. 

So this morning I'm the same person. I've got a few more kinks to work out and something to remember that I want to share with you guys.

Our brains will outright refuse to accept any disconnect between our beliefs and our actions. So if you act like a coward 24/7, your brain will eventually believe you are and discourage you from acting otherwise. If you act like an effortlessly cool ladies man, your brain will support that identity too. 

If you don't believe me, just look at this X-Ray of Arnold Schwarzenegger's brain...

©  Shutterstock

To change the way you feel, change the way you think. And to change the way you think, change the way you act. And if you're wondering how you could be effortlessly cool go some place you've never been before know and imagine that you're James Bond. Now do whatever you just imagined for ten minutes. You'll see what I mean. 

Whatever your idea of cool is can evolve as you keep performing. Just remember that you have to start somewhere to go anywhere. 

Do it for yourself. Don't live a life you don't want to lead. Don't make your death that much more painful.

That's all I have to say this morning.

Keep rocking in the free world.

Friday, February 2, 2018: I Talk Up My Driving Skills While Profanity Makes Google Catch Feels

I'm sitting in the car listening to "Sweet Emotion." Initially I was anxious about the Hot Chocolate Run today. But I saw my driving skills and them motherfuckers is lit. So hey, even if this Hot Chocolate Run goes to shit today at least I can drive like the Dukes of fucking Hazzard. And I got that going for me which is fucking nice.

Yep, looks like something I could pull off. 

I have to meet with Miss Malcolm this morning and deal with some shit with the organization. I have to tell you, that lady intimidates me. Or maybe she just thinks I'm a fucking retard. Either way she's pretty hard to talk to you know? But motherfucker I got to handle it.

© Universal Music Group

I really hate that Google's speech-to-text keeps censoring me. What do they think I'm a two-year-old?

Context: I forgot to take a screenshot before I edited it, but all of the 'fuck's were spelled 'f**k'. Google's speech to text apparently thinks you want to text like you're writing an Adult Swim bump.

This is apparently where Google got the inspiration for that feature...

© Marvel Entertainment

But yeah. That's the fucking why to this will bitch. Even though I didn't say why I'm doing any of this shit and that statement makes absolutely no sense.

Everybody's working for the weekend! Everybody wants a new a romance!

Everyone's watching to see what you will do. Everyone's looking at you.

Note: I have no clue why I decided to end this entry like this, but let's roll with it.

Wind Deities Hyperventilate Because Spilled Milk is In Their Fates

Hello.

Is it jokes you're looking for?

Then you've come to the right place...

Good morning and welcome to Joe's (Totally Not) Diary, where the grammar is made up and Dan Carey is definitely not your host.

But we do have gifs of Wayne Brady!

© Angst Productions | The CW Television Network 

This morning I feel unconfident (that's a word right?). I don't know why. Some days you just wake up on the wrong side of inspiration, you know? Sometimes it feels like you've got to kill a couple of orcs before you can be back to feeling like your old haughty, confident self you know? Too bad orcs aren't real.

But you know what is real? How fucking cold it is this morning. That weather god guy probably got caught slacking off last week because he is most certainly doing his job hard as fuck this morning. 

And this time the SOB is going for the promotion...

Jesus, if the wind blows any harder I'm going to have to give it a tip.

 I know the way out.

So today I go back to Columbus. I'm not so excited about that. But I've learned to make peace with the inevitable, you know? No used crying over spilled milk and no use crying over milk that must be spilled. We just have to accept that when the milk hits the floor, it's gone, and there's nothing we can do about it. Except pour ourselves some more milk.


The real tearjerker is that I've created a hypothetical world where everyone apparently really hates milk.

"That'll teach you to be a good source of protein, you piece of shit!"

© MediaBakery

The wind is now knocking shit off of balconies.  Let me get the fuck back inside before I wind up the only casualty in a Five AM impromptu tornado. Which would admittedly be a stupid-ass way to die.  I can already hear the whispers at my funeral.

"Didn't he hear the tornado coming? Was he deaf or something?" 

"Why the fuck was he outside at five in the morning? Why didn't he take a lawnmower for safety if he had to go out?"

"What kind of backwoods hillbilly shit is this? Who the fuck dies in a tornado in 2019?"  

"I wonder if we're gonna eat after the memorial service? I hope they have fried chicken."


I would rather die from diarrhea than being the lone jackass killed in a tornado. At least diarrhea is a funny way to go.

Relevant...

© Metro Trains Melbourne

Shine on you crazy diamonds.

Recognizing Growth and Dodging Heat Strokes

What's up?

This morning is Part 2 of the Mist. The crab monsters still haven't shown up yet, though, so we must be in the better half of the apocalypse. 

Better Half of the Apocalypse. Sounds like a good band name. Wonder if it's taken...

DIBS!

But anyway this morning I suited up in my leather jacket and skull cap before I did my incantations and power poses (Oh yeah, I added two minutes of power poses to my morning rituals yesterday. Consider yourselves informed. ) By the time I got done, I felt like I was about to have a damn heat stroke. So I'm not sure if it's warmer outside this morning or if I'm just cooling off. 

Whatever the case it feels good.

Yeah.

(I've gotta come up with some new jokes...)

Today will be my last full day in Atlanta. I'm heading back to Columbus tomorrow. 

Being here has made me stronger, goddamnit. I'm back on No Fap with no intention to stop and the discipline to keep going. My conflict resolution abilities have been steadily inclining. My skin is tougher. I'm exercising harder. Me and Dale Carnegie are fighting a winning battle against my neuroticism. I'm learning to be more resilient.

Oh, and I cultivated manifestation. That was a big one.

Also, I started this blog and began entertaining you guys. You don't know how much it warms my heart to open my dashboard and see that without fail someone has read this blog every single day. I don't give a damn if you hate it but I hope you love it and that I'm someone's hero. Because the five people I reach every day with these posts is far greater than the zero I was reaching before I started. 

And on a good day when twenty people come to visit Joe's Not Diary, I know I've made that many more people laugh, or cry or maybe even cringe. That overjoys me. 

I know I've said this time and time again, but I sincerely thank everyone that is reading this blog. I really appreciate the support. You are awesome.

And the most important thing I've learned - words don't mean a goddamn thing.

Goddamnit. As much as I dreaded coming home, it made me a better man.

Now let's end this all with a relevant Whitechapel tune -

Words don't mean a goddamn thing.

© Metal Blade Records

Peace the fuck out. Keep being excellent. And fuck anyone who tries to say you aren't already.

Send Me Some Help So I Can Escape Myself

Hey what's up, habibis?

I'm writing this to you from Syria. I got kidnapped by radicalized people of a nonspecific religion last night and I woke up here. And let me tell you something. Its a differnet world out here. The internet is slower, everything has chickpeas in it and it's 100,000 °.

But you know what really surprised me? They have got some really sexy goats here. I don't blame the guys. One girl was grazing in the fields this morning and she looked up at us so seductively we all had to change our pants afterwards.

She had us all staring.

© BBC Films

Fucking LOL. Never thought I'd find myself romaticizing a goddamn goat. If this blog goes down in the next couple of days, we will know why. But writing this shit was totally worth it.

Anyways, I'm out here on my front porch. I'm listening to "The Return" by Killswitch Engage (my favorite band by the way).  It looks like Stephen King's The Mist out here. There's fog EVERYWHERE.

I've been up since 3:10. I woke up to take a shit and couldn't fall back to sleep. So naturally, I started thinking about girls, the direction of my life and everything else that will generally keep you awake at 3 in the morning. I started reading some articles on charisma (Which I've been researching of late. I may post some of the best articles and videos I've found to mix things up a bit.)

And now, two hours later, here we are.

I don't really have much to say and I'm afraid I've bored myself, so this is the end of this post. 

I know this shit lacks the spark that it used to but in the words of my favorite prophet, "I'd rather burn out than fade away."

And by 'words of my favorite profit' I mean

 'lyrics to my favorite song.'

Peace the fuck out.

My Neighbors Fight as I Regret Things in Life

What's up, you crazy motherfuckers?

Yesterday I fucked up. My dad called me and I didn't want to pick up the phone. So I ignored the phone call and decided to listen to the voicemail he left me. After that, I recorded a message for him (he can't text so we just record shit and send it to him) responding to his voicemail but and sent it to him. 

Only to see that it was 5 minutes long. I only spoke for thirty seconds so what the fuck was on that recording?

I'll tell you what was on that recording. 

I don't know how, but I recorded myself ignoring his phone call, and listening to his voicemail all the while saying "he better not be on some dumb shit this morning." And then after all of this, I there was the intended thirty seconds of talking. 

I don't know how the fuck that shit happened, and it's really freaky. It recorded me from the point my phone rang to the point that I intentionally made my own recording. So needless to say that application has been uninstalled.

I don't know if he listened to the recording or not but I'm not too enthused about this whole debacle. Shit ruined my whole afternoon.

© HBO

Also, my pharmacy didn't pull through yesterday. I shouldn't have trusted them. (And believe me, as I archive more of my journals you'll see why.)

Anyway there's some people having a shouting match out here and I want to get back inside before fists start flying. I'm not exactly in the state of mind to be talking to the cops.

I Voice my Complaints as the Snowman Wanks

Hey, what's up?

I'm sitting out here on my front porch freezing my ass off. Or at least I would be if it weren't for my denim jeans and my leather jacket. Denim and leather keep me above this cold weather.

© Warner Music Group

Looks like Frosty pulled a bukkake on all of these cars in the front. Every last one is covered hood to trunk in frost. That SOB is always up to no good...

Believe me, you don't want to know what he's holding just out of frame...

© Warner Bros. Entertainment

Speaking of ice bukkake, I'm gonna be taking a Lyft up to my pharmacy later. I fucking hate my pharmacy. They almost never deliver on time and their phone service is fucking terrible. I understand that a business is made up of several hard-working people and I respect hard work. But they're underworking.

And if you call them they're completely flippant with you. I can't with them.

Maybe they just fuck with me because I've written them some less than favorable reviews. (Which I've just found out they've had taken down. Sneaky cunts.) But it doesn't feel good to be promised something, only for that promise to be broken.

This is what my pharmacy has done over and over and over. But it's all good.

© Adobe

You know what?



Fuck sympathy. I hope those stupid motherfuckers all get fired and they shut the place down.

Sorry for subjecting y'all to that. I don't mean to turn this blog into Joe's rant palace or anything. Here have some JT - 

JT makes everything better. Always...

© Sony Music Entertainment

Have a great day.

Dreams of Ants Make Me Crap My Pants

Good evening!

Okay, this is epic.

But what makes this unspecified thing so epic you may ask?

© NBC

But enough ass-kissing.

I'm on my front porch listening to "The Real Thing" by Faith No More (but on a channel called TheDeftonesVault. Go figure.) 

It's a good ass song. In fact, it's probably one of my favorites. It goes from slow paced and soft to fast, and pounding. 

What can I say? These fuckers can craft an amazing song...

© Reclamation! Recordings

I had a weird dream this morning. The parking lot in my apartment complex was frozen under at least six feet of water. And I had to take out the trash. Why? 

Because dream logic. 

So I get done dumping the trash, and while I'm walking back from our dumpster the fucking ice starts cracking. And then my grandmother opens our front door and starts yelling something. She has the genius decision to tell me to climb the trees (which conveniently lead right up to our door in this particular dream) and jump back to our porch. So I starting doing that. 

But in one of the trees I decided to start breaking off dead limbs "because it was dangerous for people walking by." And I guess I broke off one too many dead limbs because I uncovered a massive fire ant nest. They immediately crawled up my leg and started biting me.

So cue me saying "fuck this tree shit" and running back to the house. I immediately burst into my bathroom. I started looking up videos on how to kill fire ants and found a video of some guy killing them with cotton and pepper (once again, dream logic, go figure.) So I yanked out some cotton from a cabinet and rolled down my pants leg only to find all of the ants were gone.  

And then I woke up screaming "Where the fuck did the ants go?" And after about ten seconds of laying on the floor in silence I asked myself ,"What the fuck was that?"

So that's what's been going on with me for the past half-hour.

Peace.

I've Returned Feeling New And I Want to Thank You

Good morning.

I'm Back!

© Nu Image

I don't know if you guys could tell the difference in me these past two days, but I definitely felt it. 

Regardless, it's good to be back in a comfortable state of mind.

So. This is my second to last day at home. Tomorrow, I'm headed back to college. Wednesday I'll start classes at 10 in the morning. My biggest concern isn't whether I'm ready to go back. (Spoiler alert: No.) It's whether I'll have the discipline to keep regularly updating this blog. I want to keep providing chuckles and motivation for the three to five people that read this blog daily.

We'll fill up the rest of those seats...

eventually...

Seriously you guys are the reason I do this. I'm not even sure if its the same people reading or if random people stumble upon this place every day.

I do know that thirty percent of my traffic comes from Germany. And I like that a lot.

Makes me feel like an international superstar. 

So I want to take the time out to thank everyone who's read the marvelous piece of work that is Joe's (Totally Not) Diary. I really fucking appreciate it. 

© Columbia Pictures

Keep being excellent, and make someone else smile today. You sure made me.

Peace out.