Notes from the cafe

     See?  I love this blog.  I just spent an hour working on a blog entry, refraining from saying, 'piss, shit, fuck, and cunt', and then after a while I go nuts being edited in that way.  I just like to write how I talk.  I hate to have to edit myself.  I guess those words get boring if you overuse them, but they sure are fun to say.
     The reason not to say them is that somebody will be offended.  'Fuck it', let 'em get offended, Jesus, I don't care.  I think it is good to find out what offends you, because then later, you don't get offended again.

     Anyway, there's always been a sketchy quality to my work.  Maybe I ought to work on that.
     I'm not a professional, and I barely care to be.  I just could give a shit.  Writing some piece of shit article for some piece of crap commercial magazine just doesn't appeal to me.

     I am missing the girl who was sitting to the left of me.  She seemed like a nice girl.  I wouldn't mind fucking her, and seeing what she is made of. 
     I am sorry, but that is how guys think.  If you don't like it, don't read this blog is all I can say.  You have plenty of options in terms of what you view on the web.

     Now there is a guy both on my left and to my right.  Not as visually interesting to me at all.

     I guess the appeal to being gay for some people is the feeling that fucking a guy is somehow wrong.  I can see that.  Not my cup of tea.  I'm just not attracted to men.  I would rather be a man.

     There is a certain joy with being with a woman.  It can be very nice.  I like it every once in a while when I can get it.

     The guy to the left is talking on his phone while his friend is there, and I have to listen to the drone of his phone call.  It sucks.
     I liked it way more when the cute and nice girl was intently writing in her notebook and just looking 'o so cute'.

     Funny to see an x-rated blog, and they had lots of pictures of guys who looked like 'Bro Guys' getting fucked with their backwards baseball caps on.  That was really funny to see.
     There are a lot of tough guys in this city, and it is really funny to think that when they go home, they get fucked by some other tough slob of a guy wearing a baseball cap.

     Some men really just prefer the other company of men.
     For me, I'd rather be alone all day long.  I do like the company of women in short bursts.
     The only guy friends I really have are the guys I play Magic The Gathering with, some people I know at the bar, and some acquaintances here at the cafe.

     These two guys to the left of me have their paper bags, and their chatty voices, and I can't stand listening to them.  I gotta step outside.

     So I got the two guys sitting next to me who seem to enjoy each other's company way too much, and not I got some guy with glasses texting...but he is dressed like a Moslem woman.  Okay, that is a little too much for me.
     Good, the two guys on the left are leaving, thank god.  They sure did need a lot of attention.  It's a pain in the ass when I am trying to write.

     Always interesting in the cafe.

     Never a dull moment.   I hope the guy to the right leaves soon, too.  It's annoying to see someone on their portable electronic device, holding on to it so preciously as if it was a dick or something.

     Anyway, this is the freedom of speech I yearn for, the ability to write about anything I want.

     I did see some young girls outside, with a poster in hand, probably looking for a place to post it.  They hadn't blossomed yet.  Only one of them had the beginnings of a mature woman's ass.
     Speaking of which, I did find a picture with Marilyn Monroe with her ass exposed, posed in a very attractive way, as if it was a still life, or work of art to be admired.  Indeed it was.  That woman had some caboose on her.  One of the best asses ever.  Something about her.  Part of it is the lipstick she uses, but it is also the fact that she learned how to talk deep and sexy and slow, and men love that.  They hate the tinny, excited girl talk, but they love the voice of a sexually mature deep-throated woman.  It's nice for us guys, and brings happiness.  Also, we love to see other women get jealous about the women we are more attracted to than others.

     Anyway, let's see, what else?  My coffee is good.

     Oh yeah, for the first time, I learned that some steel mill workers stole Charlie Chaplin's body from his grave for a while, and had hoped to extract money from the family.  Their plan failed, and they were caught, and the body was buried under concrete so it would never happen again.
     That is an awful thing for the family, to bury your family member, and then have some bastards dig up your loved one's grave for ransom.  Jesus.

     I saw in a Marx Brothers clip last night that some guy walked into a room, and upon seeing a woman's ass in a dress, he said, "That's what I like, you've got class".
     That is basically the only way you could say in a movie back then that the woman has a great ass. 
     She has class. 
     Haha.
     At least it rhymes with 'ass', so it is apparent what they are talking about.
     'She's got class', and 'she's got ass' is almost interchangeable.
     It could be further worked into 'that girl's got a class ass'.
     'That girl is a class act' is another way to say it.
     Ultimately, it all means the same thing. 
     'She has a classy, voluptuous, curvy, womanly ass that is ripe for the plucking'.
     'Plucking' and 'fucking' are pretty interchangeable, too.

     It sure is easier to generate words on this keyboard than it is with writing with a pencil or typing on a regular typewriter.

     I grew up to the sound of my father typing for hours whenever I was at my grandmother's house.  He had a certain rhythm to it.
     My mother played the piano.
     So both parents had their keyboard to make them happy.

     I guess I should work on a blog that I can monetize, but I do like the freedom of this one to say the word 'fuck' whenever I want.
     Adsense is a little uptight, you know.

     I guess with the blogs, that Blogger can mathematically analyze your writing to see how smart you are, and what the extent of your vocabulary is, counting how many different words you use in your language.  It's all very important.
     I don't care, let them do what they want.
     I am sure they can take this blog, which has 276 entries, and compute how many unique words I produce, and they can calculate how many times I say each word.
     They might eventually get surprised with how many words I know, who knows?  I certainly don't.
     It could turn out that I am completely average.
     I guess we shall see over time.
     It is never good enough for people, you know.