Minute 008

Ok, so I started to write a minute recapping my weekend at the Governor's Ball, but got one graph in and decided that I had no desire to talk about shit I already did. It's already been done; so sad, too bad, no cake for you. So I have begun anew, and in this fresh manuscript I have not yet decided what I shall be writing about. Yo wait—I know what I need to complain about right now, it's fucking Arlin. I go to the city for one god damn weekend and the next thing I know I'm getting snapchats of him driving around in Maseratis'? Like what? Seriously. Damn it be like that huh? Your own brother gonna go out an play you like that. He's just salty I have a girlfriend and he doesn't. (No but seriously. Insider secret. Camp 52 House secret. Arlin wants a GF. See? Aren't you glad you read this blog? Thing is the best blog in the world, I mean I'm dropping insider secrets about Arlin Fucking Moore. Jeeez. You brillant blog reader you. Makin me proud.) But legit I leave the house for like 48 hours and he finds supercars and supermodels to film with. He takes me to target to film. Supercars vs Hotwheels at Target. Take your fuckin pick you rocket scientist. That's like asking to choose between Halle Berry or the white chick rippin' sticks outside the 7-11. And get this. I call him out on it, and the man just turns on me and with this little snarky ass smile smirk and goes "Just go read a book dude." Like, fuck man, you're right, I don't have a supercar, so I should probably go lose myself in Moby Dick, what a great call. Douchebag. He's the fucking WOAT when it comes to books. And the worst part is, he's fucking right. And here's how I know. When I was a little kid, I was the smartest I ever was. I was that annoying little white kid who thinks they know way more than they do but at the same time they actually know a pretty good amount- like enough to win some stupid argument and piss you off and convince you you're not actually smarter than a 5th grader. I was in all those gifted and talented classes, had special instructors, and I got to ride the special short bus everyday so I didn't have to deal with the idiots on the normal busses. OK, ok, that was mean-I didn't ride the short bus come on asshole did you really believe that? But I was smart as shit, and I credit my parents for that. The reason why is, as a kid, I had two forms of entertainment. Going outside, or reading a book. TV was basically a sin in my child hood home, and video games were seen as satan himself. (My mother, bless her soul, made sure that her kids would not be duds, whether we realized it or not.) So basically, I would play sports outside all day and then read at night. So I was smart as hell. I honestly think my vocabulary was better in like 7th grade because I just read so many books at that point I was like Ernest Hemingway himself.  Ok not actually, but seriously, I started reading books again recently because Arlin made me (brutal), and I feel like I got part of my brain back (less brutal). Like whoa. Basically legal NZT. Books are legal NZT. I'm standing by that statement. Here's a test, try and crush a book a week for the next month. Any 4 books. I don't care if it's self-help or Harry Potter. People need to read more because our society is going dumb from not reading. And I bet if you do that for a month, you'll be like "Shoot Jackson, I darn near reckon I do feel a bit smarter." And then you can go back to toiling in the fields. Or whatever it is that you do on a day to day basis. But seriously, today's lesson is go read a book.

 

 


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