You are excellent.

I just wanted to start this morning by letting everyone who reads this blog know that they are excellent. And by "they" I mean "other people". "They" doesn't mean "you", you know. If you were getting your chest all puffed up about how excellent you are, then maybe you should learn about pronouns.
Now, I have something to say to you. "You" is excellent. And by that I mean, the word "you" is a really great word. Even dogs and dolphins can say it after much training. The word "you" sounds like both a mournful cry and cheer. It's like "Aloha!" except, we as the English speaking world pigeonholed "you" into meaning, "the one who is being spoken to or written to".
Which reminds me of a love song I wrote years ago.
"The one who is speaking or writing
Feels affection for the one or one's being addressed."
x2.
That's the chorus.
Robots and savants love it.
Robots and savants also love you. And by that I mean you. You, the readers of this blog. Expect a Robotgram later this afternoon to congratulate you by crushing your car with its bare hands. Afterwards all the savants will arrive and play a mechanical, artless, emotionless rendition of Chopin's "My Dilly Bar has melted" waltz.
Anyway, URXLNt.

Sharpeis versus Sharpies.

I met with my sketch group last night. Originally I cast nine people in this thing (7 from the audition and 2 extra people that I pulled from "Chemically Imbalanced Comedy"). We arranged what our first show is going to be. By the way, the first show is based almost entirely in nonsense. So in honor of my favorite thing, nonsense, here's a poem I wrote. May Lewis Carroll something something:

Watch behavior in the skies.
Everyone is when we dies.
Sample burgers made of fries.
All the children eaten guys.

(You see, that verse is about worrying about the after world while you're missing out on the good life here and now. A "children eaten guy" is a guy who is overwhelmed by his immature thoughts.)

Every zombie rock and roll.
Sell the pigment in your soul.
Eat the things that eat your hats.
And all the silver hates your cats.

(This verse is about how we, the walking dead, should just blow this life out while we're here. Lose your inhibitions. And that final line tells you that money and career goals prevents you from having relationships with loved ones.)

Here's the chorus...

Rock it with a Sharpie! We're gonna rock it with a markie!
Kill your friends and shake their hands and rock it with a Sharpie!

(Get it? Graffiti is a joyful destruction. Killing your friends isn't really killing. It's changing. Like Annakin being killed by Darth Vader. Ultimately...do what you must and happily deal with the consequences of living life well.)

See. You just can't make nonsense unless you use a computer program. Human brains try so hard to make sense.

I got Andre 3000 all signed up to play all the instruments and make it next years summertime sensation.

I'm looking forward to the sketch groups first performance. It's at the end of August. Updates to come. No name for the group as of yet.

Rock it with a Sharpei! That's right, Sharpei!