Kim Jong Il Died of Irrelevance, Read on

As I step out of the shower today I recall waking up yesterday with my ex-gf and turning on the radio.  Immediately I hear the story about Kim Jong Il’s death.  I then start to not give a shit about anything, especially Kim Jong Il.  As I step out of the shower this morning I hear the R.E.M.’s song, It’s the End of The World as we Know it, and I feel fine, I feel fine.  This has to be a sign of something, hopefully WWIII, cause if I die I won’t have to work tomorrow, or pay my bills at the end of the month, or the next, or deal with class disparities.  I am concerned about a Dickhead here.  Oops, I mean dead dictator.

My morning today consisted of talking to a counselor about growing up and filling my backpack with free food at the MCTC Advising Office.  My neighbor just happened to be there and he asked me why I was taking so much food. I told him to strike while the iron is hot.  I told him I grab so much free food so I can afford the other interesting aspects of my life; singing karaoke at the Market Bar, eating Sushi down the street, and drinking while playing Mario Kart for N64 with my downstairs neighbor, who happens to be his roommate.  Devo laughs and we walk across the park to our respective apartments.  On the walk I tell him if he wants to quit his job for real he has to become more inventive.  We each have another laugh and head to our apartments.  I tell him this because I see so many people crying and sad about not having a job.  They should have had tissues in the free box.

My yesterday consisted of sitting at home all day worrying about if I will have to get my hands amputated before I die, so I decided to write one more short for all.  I did this because I won’t be able to write without hands.  On Wikipedia I discovered my hands will be all right if I stop smoking cigarettes, I then discovered in my trash can that I am out of condoms, and I also discovered behind my apartment that my car is leaking anti-freeze which will kill the squirrels in the park if they so happen to take a lick of it; fortunately my car is leaking small amounts so I won’t have to refill it before I home for Christmas, unfortunately my attempts at squirrel population control are trite and inconclusive, thus hardly effecting said squirrels and their over-population of Loring Park.  Wa, wa.

The night before last I sang karaoke.  Correction:  the night before last I failed at singing karaoke.  When you are unable to sing Amy Winehouse’s Rehab you should exit the stage quietly and swiftly, and pray that no one beats you to a pulp, or that your probation officer is not in the crowd considering whether to literally to take you to rehab for that embarrassment of a classic song.  I thought of this last night as I received a tongue lashing from another one of my ex’s for texting her this: “grow some balls 😉 come over if you want to have some fun.”  Apparently this is not nice or friendly.  The suggestion of fun was too ambiguous and if I was her, which I am because I think she is almost the exact same person as me except for she is female, I would have been excited or fucking pissed too.  I was hung-up on.  Someone else I told that told me I was selling myself short, and I shouldn’t aim so low, I told her she was wrong.  Look closer I said as I looked directly into her eyes, they were green, almost as green as she was/is.  Whatever, however, I guess having fun is out of the question when you look at all things so seriously, as to focus until they squirms, as to focus to the point of obsession.  As if, I guess, this morning I care?  Kim Jong Il died, remember?  You still there?

I wonder if he was poisoned.  Yesterday, after I obsessed about losing my hands, I thought of writing a story about someone, a protagonist, forcing someone else, a victim, to watch their beloved pet being euthanized, I then thought that this story might not appeal to my demographic:  20 to 25 somethin’s, Mostly all of my ex-gf’s, DEFINITELY NOT MOLLY M., alcoholics, friends, and the occasional accidental hit because of genius post titles that I come up with readers.  All in all about 5 people.  After all of the contemplation I was doing yesterday I walked to the Army surplus store, which has been having a going out of business sale for the last decade and I skimmed through books looking for forgotten cash, or the occasional awesome book marker!  I found two things:  One, a brown bag the size of dollar bills with nothing inside of it (Fuck!) -and, Two, a business card from 1976, some publisher from St. Paul Minn. it was crisp as a cracker.  I wonder if he would publish my works.  As I skimmed, I was surrounded by ex Vietnam vets who seemed interested in stocking books, very interested (wink, bro, I know what your up to), but more interested in what I was doing; looking at books, through books, for cash.  Ha, ha.  Ironic as it seems I have found money in books before, but not at stores where books are being sold.  I am reading you fools, I thought to myself as they stalked me, combing my every move.  Sorry about the whole thing where you got shot in your leg and have to fall over me trying to find me out as a thief.  I didn’t steal anything, but I did buy some mittens with trigger fingers knitted in them.  Guy told they were warm, and made for the Cold War.  I told him my cold war is outside, paid for the gloves, and left.  I feel bad and I honor him now.

This morning sitting in the Advising Office I realized that I don’t want to graduate even though I am so close, and that cigarette avoidance is key to my success.  I thought about this as I thought of sushi, sex, comments from Fightest Howes (aka Korahomes, fuck if I spelled that right) and watching movies.  Sadly I only have two movies to watch today:  Brokeback Mountain and Requiem for a Dream.  So let me get this straight, I can watch a movie about two gay men and their clandestine love making in the mountains or I can watch a movie about a guy who does drugs, whose gf does an ass to ass dildo show for a drug dealer, and who has to get his arm cut off in the end of the movie.  Spoiler Alert!  I can relate to the second one a bit more, but I have watched the former at least 3 times in one week, and I thought it was super boring up until the guy on guy action, but after that it turned into a complete and utter lackluster of a melodrama.  I might have to read a book.

I ponder some more…  In relation to life, reading is essential, if you have read this you are one better, or rather more informed than the person next to you who hasn’t read.  I suggest help them out and tell them to read.  Pass it on, reading is everything.  I love to read.  Reading is my life.  I love to write.  Writing is my life.  I love to watch movies.  Watching movies is semi-my life.  Do me a solid and pass this on, because the more you know the more you know about yourself.  Understanding, gaining knowledge, and being successful go hand in hand.  I have put a few clues out there as to what I am trying to do.  I am  Marketer, my only passion in life was trying to make money.  I no longer want money, I want knowledge for everyone.  I dislike having to describe something to someone who should already know what I am talking about straight off.  I want to relate, to build relations, or relationships, to have mental stimulation.  If you disagree or agree with what I do, or say, I don’t mind.  I love free will and personal opinion,

 

I am telling you what my opinion is…  Spread the word, spread this post, spread my site, buy someone a book, tell a child to read and write.   Give someone the knowledge that is out there so they can expand their minds and relate to their peers.  I see it daily, boredom, stress, people need an escape.  Give them one.  Tell a story, show them love, give them something to think about.  If anything give yourself the chance to be astonished.

 

Cheers!

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About Terry Scott Niebeling

Hello, My name is Terry Scott, a human being with flaws. twitter: @sirterryscott Buy my ebooks: http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss_1/191-4788099-1818040?url=search-alias%3Daps&field-keywords=terry+scott+niebeling
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2 Responses to Kim Jong Il Died of Irrelevance, Read on

  1. korahomes says:

    I started to read this post with the same thoughts I usually have while reading your blog, and then I began to skim the page because I got bored and you FRIGGIN NAME DROPPED ME!! lol. What a good joke! It was perfect timing in name dropping cause it happened right when I began to skim and I had to scroll back up, and begin to read again to be polite… then I was unamused and skimmed the rest of the way. Sorry Terror, I can be a shitbag too. 😉

  2. Sal says:

    Irrelevant is such a weak word to use…especially in your title. Some big writers would even argue to say that irrelevant is not a word (even though Merriam-Webster says it is). Just a tip 😉 Also, this sentence popped out at me…”I got hung-up on.” How about, “She hung-up on me.” Every sentence should not start with “I”. I am not trying to be annoying, just trying to do what you told me to do in the last paragraph. I am giving you knowledge to expand your mind! Thanks for writing 🙂
    Miss you, hope we can catch up soon! Are you still in La Crescent for the holidays or back in the city? Peace

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