Every Day Counts Like Crazy

  There's a community open mic comedy night at a college lecture hall. It's one of those where the crowd yells out topics, and the brave soul on stage has to immediately come up with funny bits. A few college students go up first, and do pretty well. The next comedian is the first woman to take the stage. She has a bubbly personality, quick smile, and large breasts. People shout out topics, and one guy yells, "Big tits!", she frowns, points at him, and says, "I don't like him", then moves on, listening for other topics.  The emcee of the show— a burly, barrel-chested man- gets out of his seat and signals to a security guard across the room. They begin to make their way towards the guy— who notices what's happening and begins to squirm. They arrive at his seat, and in one quick motion, each of them grab a wrist, and yank him out of his chair.  The crowd Oooo's and the woman protests into the mic, "Oh come on..." They pull his arms back b...

mir·a·cle "a surprising and welcome event that is not explicable by natural or scientific laws and is therefore considered to be the work of a divine agency." 🐎Age 4, I fell off a fully galloping horse and landed on the ground unscathed. 🗻Age 13, I stumbled from the top of a mountain and fell, somersaulting 3 times down the incline, then smacking down on a flat outcropping of earth in between some boulders. Only got bruises.  🧎Age 17, On a silent retreat and the leader gave me a sealed note and said, "Open it whenever feels right to you". At the end of the day, I was kneeling on a boat dock rapping directly to God about the beauty of the lake, and the trees, and my friends, and my gratitude for just being alive. I rapped and sang until my knees hurt. Taking a break, I opened the note. It said, "Get on your knees and sing praise to God, stay longer than is comfortable"   --- ➤ Were these events "the work of divine agency" or could they be ...

  March 2nd, 2022   11:30 AM - I have felt hungry for about an hour, using the promise of a future meal to get through my not-fun-but-must-do-chores.   11:35 AM - I finish an adequate amount of work and break for the well-deserved meal. 11:50 AM - I leave the kitchen holding a steaming bowl of oatmeal containing: 1 cut-up apple, 1 cut-up banana, toasted sesame seeds, cinnamon, and ginger.  12:00 Noon - THE LAST BITE arrives and in my head I think, "this is the last bite, what a delicious and well-balanced meal, I am a healthy person". 12:01 PM - I'm in the kitchen semi-frantically throwing leftover turkey, cornbread, more sesame seeds, and 4 dates into the previously empty bowl. 12:05 PM - I finish the "dessert" and think, "that was nice, a little extra, but now I will return to my work". 12:06 PM - Scooping into the bowl the rest of the turkey and cornbread; adding sesame seeds, 4 more dates, and a banana.  12:10 PM - I'm depressed, but equally hi...

              Steam rises through a manhole cover as I emerge from the southwest exit of Grand Central station in Manhattan en route to donate my sperm.   I moved to New York City from rural Vermont a few months ago fueled by a lifetime of vague romantic ideas about New York City that I'm now replacing with experience.  The streets carry the bodies of the wealthy, the aspiring to be wealthy, and the homeless.   The subway cars are filled with these bodies, who brush up against one another. 🚅🚅🚅🚅🚅🚅🚅🚅🚅 🚅🚅🚅                The sperm donation office is in a really tall metal skyscraper. From the street it looks like a giant Pez dispenser.  I imagine what's going on inside– laughter, bustling around desks and computers, smiling faces, and tables with catered food. Each office space for 70 floors contains a new cast of characters, playing out their dramas. I take the e...

My landlord shot his dog today, Lorenzo was his name. His crime was peeing on the floor, and pooping on the same.  He got so old, that uncontrolled, the turds would leave his body. The pee would flow, down his elbow, and make a pool of potty.  "What's this about!?"   My landlord shouts, "Not in the house!"  "Not on the rug!" "C'mon Lorenzo don't look so smug..."  "It wasn't me!"  "That's not my pee!"  "I’ve never seen that before!" I love you buddy You’re cute and cuddly  But i’ve got chores left to do. The kids are all grown  And this is our home I can’t constantly clean up your poo I know you get sad And it smells really bad When you mix doggy ointments and farts But I look in your eyes And then you look in mine  And I know what's in both of our hearts For so many years  You’d perk up your ears As I jingled my keys by the door You’d come bounding toward me To love and adore me I wouldn’t be ...

I'm not special there's way too many people for me to be special unless I break through on Spotify or my Youtube Channel  I should give it a shot cause then I'd be special I actually would I remember Jim Carrey he said to be wary about getting real special getting all that you want 'cause it's not the answer. Well that's according to Jim and you can take it from him or you could give it a whirl And let the people decide if you matter or not please tell me I'm valuable  or I'll go home and eat chocolate So who decides I'm special... could it be me? I'm starting to think that a global recognition  of my awesomeness  might not be the thing that I need to be special. Link-Tree:  https://artist.landr.com/music/672985728943

  When you see  -> everybody <- is a carved up Halloween pumpkin,  smiling with a light that's flickering 🔥 I spill my guts so you  can  "totally understand" Take a listen: Mastered By Chad Caroland at Raptor Smoke Records Additional Mastering and Production @DAVIDFRANCISCOMUSIC  Written and Recorded by Joseph G.