Doc Tricycle

 I smell so bad. No! I smell good!!! I just like to exercise the fruit of my labors to the highest extent! It’s the jokingly ways that are yelled at me saying “You’re crazy” and “You’re insane”. No, I am not. With emphasis - can’t you tell. I am merely a “heart-stabbed beef stew stringy..uh”. I don’t know, but my whole system of vocabulary basically describes my brain. I tried to even use a different word there, but my entire-ity sense of “technological status” protruded a “lack of fulfillment”. Thousands would eat my brain! Thousands! I’m tasty. I certainly would! I have an extremely hard sense of love for myself. I’d **** the **** out of myself. I love myself, and I’m in love with myself. I’m sexy, and I’m dirty! And I like it! I seem to have created an organized status that consists of “governmentally-approved self-destruction”, and an innate inner ability to get whatever I please. I’m INVINCIBLE . There’s so many dirty things I would vent to upon on here, but I won’t. TO BE CONTIN

 Hello all you steamy alcoholics! This is approximately the time of where I try and convince you I’m talented. It surely won’t take long once I take off my jacket and breathe my stinky breath in your face. That of course reminds me of the time when I ate a bunch of garlic chicken which gave me..uh. What is the “politically correct” word for farting? You get the point, I was doing you know what compulsively. And the easiest on the brain way for me to explain it is it smelled like sulfur. And if you’re of any intelligence behind my egotistical ass, then you would know that sulfur means it smells bad. Do you know how many blokes I sniff a day? I’ve played basketball for years and I still can’t figure out where the basket is. And you know what? At least it’s not called f**tball, because if it was. I’d be getting sexually excited somewhere at the back of my mind. At least to the female form of such a thing. Get on my level, do you even know what I’m talking about? Yes, I have a tumblr page

 1. Who are you? Do you understand me? I’m thirsty again. And not thirsty as in any provocative way. I’m thirsty as in I need a drink of water silly. And I gotta… Nevermind (the bollocks. Here’s the Sex Pistols). I just come to random general statements because I’m lonely and uh. Definitely not… Okay; I’m not explaining myself in deep detail. YOU DON’T NEED TO KNOW ABOUT MY PERSONAL LIFE IN DEEP DETAIL. Where was I? Oh yeah. But “oh yeah” doesn’t mean I actually came up with an idea. Because that would defeat (feet in my mouth) the purpose of this series being just meaningless nonetheless. Me just typing up random stuff for the hopes that’ll be world famous and throw dollar bills at the Eiffel Tower. “No-sir-ie”. Would that be the properly spelling of such slang? I’m not sure; but what I am sure about is that as a human being. I have lots of feelings and thoughts in my head that bring me to no conclusion. I have all these thoughts; urges; “inconsideracies”. I invent words like some sor

 1. Of all the different things I feel I keep coming to the same conclusions. Actually it’s not a conclusion and it’s nothing to do with a “conclusion” in the first place. This is just me trying as hard as I can not to state the face that I’m just jumping in to typing up a new piece I call “Dribble”. Do you think I’m gonna check this for spelling errors? Do you think I’m gonna take that sip of water that my body is craving? I’m not sure, but it would seem right that only the second instance would be as “highest likely” to be fulfilled. But I’m bored. Bored: as in I feel stuck in..well. I don’t wanna just sit here in wallow in my own bullcrap so the “legality soaked population” can dribble their basketball all over my body. “Come back to this when you wanna read nonsense”. Is that what they would say? At least as I clear my throat while thinking the thought “Oh how I pray that someone would read this”. 2. As I type this up on this inadequately arranged (I’m not gonna tell you because pa

  “Hungry” (1966) - Paul Revere & The Raiders “Hollywood B***h” (2001) - Stone Temple Pilots “Sweet Young Thing” (1966) - The Monkees “Only Angel” (2017) - Harry Styles “Denise” (1999) - Fountains of Wayne “Antmusic” (1980) - Adam & The Ants “Invincible” (2005) - OK Go “The Sky Is Falling” / “Yellow Pills” (1979) - 20/20 “Misfit Kid” (1980) - The Cars “Hold Me” (1982) - Fleetwood Mac “Carolina” (2017) - Harry Styles “You’ve Got My Number (Why Don’t You Use It?)” [1979] - The Undertones “E.T.I (Extra Terrestrial Intelligence)” [1976] - Blue Öyster Cult “You Need a Mess of Help to Stand Alone (1972) - The Beach Boys “Never to Be Forgotten” (1965) - The Bobby Fuller Four “Let Her Dance” (1965) - The Bobby Fuller Four “Real World” (1978) - Buzzcocks “Effigy (I’m Not An)” [1983] - Ministry “(I Live For) Cars and Girls” [1975] - The Dictators “Diggin’ Your Scene” (1999) - Smash Mouth “Funk Pop a Roll” (1983) - XTC “Zoo Station” (1991) - U2 “Opening Ceremony” / “Porpoise Song” (Theme

  In reality/in conclusion: I *technically* slept approximately 7 hours and 30 minutes. Because I normally stay awake for 16 hours (approximately). I woke up yesterday after sleeping for that EXACT SAME TIME “7 hours and 30 minutes”. But I went to sleep today after *only* staying awake for 10 HOURS.   Obvious Conclusion: The less longer you stay awake. The less sleep you need, because you still have sleep invested from the previous day. **This is all in accordance if you have slept longer the previous day, and also of course. Stayed up longer the previous. Which is only makes sense if you slept longer. You were more tired, but also you had the opportunity to sleep longer. No stress, no activities planned. Sleep IS your activity, so it takes over to its fullest potential. Theory: Sleeping is like a bank where you have an account, seemingly. But the money never goes away, because you keep sleeping (Sleep is the consist gaining and regaining of the money?). However, with sleeping; you alw