So how's everyone doing tonight? Good? I hope so. Nothing better than a good night...except maybe a great, amazing, fantastic, stupendous, or incredible night. But what separates those categories? Me? If I get a limp handjob by a stranger in a Denny's parking lot I'm on cloud nine for the next forty-seven minutes, but I don't know about you. And now you see the bulk of my humor. I sure the fuck can't get a laugh from a knock knock joke, but boy howdy do I get chuckles from the riff raff when I give a three hour lecture with PowerPoint about how I got my dick caught in the faucet again. This time I swear the CIA told me it was good luck, I wouldn't lie about that.

Alright, half the people who clicked on my post have now clicked off. A true key sign of intelligence is the use of a filter. See, I'm a rather prolific writer here on Reddit, have been for eight years, and I got a metric fuckton of good edutainment posts on philosophy, spirituality, and mental health skills. Check out the pinned post on my profile if that interests you; not going to link it because I'm feeling lazy today, which brings us down to brass tacks.

Why the fuck am I bothering to post a functional Seinfeld episode of a post? This is about nothing! Oh sure it might have something resembling a coherent stream of consciousness throughout it, but this post isn't about my ingenious idea to get famous, or how my girlfriend now has two other partners and I'm very happy for her, or how I once got ran out of Eugene, Oregon after I solicited a fellow homeless guy to rent out his dog by the half-hour to my sex cult. Isn't performance art fun, kids? But, I'm sidetracking, because I was just about to say that after writing literally thousands of posts on this site over the past eight years with most of them significantly longer than this tripe, I'm drawing a blank. Like, I got plenty of ideas for what to do with my asshole if I had more lubricated bananas, but I don't know what the Dickins I should do for new content.

That's why I'm here. I'm looking for idea saplings to water and grow into full fledged ideas like mighty redwoods of the ancient forest. Just writing gets the ol noggin moving again, so imma put a stop to this and go juggle to see my own mind from about a bajillion other angles. And that's something you learn from studying magick folks, so become a chaos magician today and there's no telling what you'll be tomorrow!

PS: give me some friggin' idea saplings. I literally believe the moon is hollow and instead was constructed to house a giant alien hivemind supercomputer, which is God as it controls the Illuminati, which controls the CIA, which controls me, so no matter what, you're going to get something interesting in return. Isn't the autism and schizoaffective disorder combo grand, everybody?