JimSoft Insanitarium -> Insane Stories -> Too Much
As I was in a rather hyperactive mood after consuming a mere five too many cans of Pepsi, I decided I’d wear my fingers out by typing something. At the time, I figured I’d just start typing and the words would fall into place, as usual. But this time I decided to put some more structure into it: I’d read each word as I wrote it. Well, I soon got tired of that.
But, the next paragraph brought a new subject. I decided I’d talk about the paragraph. It was rather long, and was only about itself, and nothing else, but it soon changed from that to the colour of the tree out the window, which was a dark green. Unusual, I thought.
After getting bored of writing my every move before I did it, I made up my mind to make up my mind about something, which, after several seconds of thought, was just to make up my mind. This I chanted several times in three seconds. I got bored so I left the room and kept typing. Since this was not quite physically possible, I walked back in and made as though I had never left.
The next paragraph brought a turning point in the junk I was typing: It had structure. It was about a crazy 100, 200, maybe even 50-word story about a rabbit:
The fuzzy looking crazy thing with two large spikey things poking from its head, waving in the wind which was blowing five minutes earlier. It was happily chewing away at the tarmac on the strange track in front of it. There was a barbed wire fence behind it, keep that in mind. The furball heard a noise to its right, picked up its ears (yes, picked), and looked left. Unseen by the rabbit, two round balls of faded light approached from the right. A fast wind blew the sturdy, very weak barbed wire fence over, the one mentioned before (you can take that out of mind now). The rabbit stood as though nothing had happened, stationary on the grass, despite the fact its head was moving at 100 kilometres per hour to the left.
Then I went on and wrote a paragraph about basically nothing and everything (it had nothing to do with anything else on the page at the time), though later when I typed stuff it probably would. At this stage I was typing at a mere 50-odd words per second, though that steadily increased as I stopped thinking:
A bunch of stuff was what it was about which was nothing about anything that had anything in common with a tree, like, for instance, a window, which is also not like a curtain, though I never said anything about a sheep before, so I decided to bring it up now, which was already earlier, so I don’t have to write it any more, if that makes sense. Otherwise, I don’t care, don’t bring it up.
Then I started thinking again and then <clunk> a noise went <clunk> like a large squirrel had fallen on the roof, though it was on the gravel outside, and went <clunk> like a horse. I had no idea what the <clunk> was, though I had a fair idea. “It was probably just a squirrel,” I told myself. “Yes, you’re probably right,” I answered myself. I paid no more attention to what I was typing for another month or less, maybe even seventeen seconds, but soon became aware as a large squirrel stood on the windowsill to my right, across the other side of the room in front of me.
I screamed like a horse after it collides with a Mac-Truck and yelled again and again nothing. I kept typing, committed to doing nothing. The squirrel came closer and closer and closer and closer (I’m not using CTRL+V, I swear!) and closer vand closer and closer and then I woke up as it bit my head off. “Whew. It was only a paragraph,” I sighed.
Now I was really bored: I had too much to do. I don’t know what I was thinking at the time, if anything, but I decided I’d yell at the top of my lungs, but soon fell down onto my knee. There I listened to the music of the windows in front of the speakers in front of me behind the computer on the desk of the … no, on the floor of the room I was in.
Someone now walked into the room, as I smelled food wafting from the refrigerator, and said something. Not realising what they said, or what I said, which was nothing anyway, I said, “I didn’t, I swear!”
I heard someone behind me comment on my swearing, offended. I turned around to find me. I fell unconscious on the floor five seconds before, but I later woke up in time to keep typing where I hadn’t left off, but in fact ahead. I kind of slipped up and missspelled a word by putting threeeee extra letters in it. I was still bored.
Whatever you are thinking right now, stop it, and look left. Now, read this carefully: If you see a brick wall, yell at it. Otherwise run as fast as you can to your forward… scratch that…. Run as slowly as you can to your left and yell “HEHEHEHEHAHAHAHEHEHAHAHAHA” in that imprecise order, without yelling a single word of any meaning whatsoever. Whatever else there is in the way, disregard, and trample all over it before proceeding.
Now that you have read the previous paragraph, yell at the top of your head “LALALALALAAA” if that is possible at all, otherwise chant a few meaningless words of disrespect toward the trees of stupidity situated to your south.
I don’t care if none of this makes any sense. I am now slipping into a nothingness paragraph…
Three of them were all standing along the fence yelling and screaming at each other about stupid comments they had made earlier to an old lady. She was three years old and had three earrings, one in each eye. At this stage they had run off into the distance toward a three–headed hungry food or whatever that was standing in front of them to their right. Now, one went off one way, the other the same way, the same one the other way, and another another way. I had no idea what they were doing at the time, but I soon found out, as before I knew it I was on the ground unconscious except that I was awake. I had no idea what had happened, except that the people had severely injured my ankle with their heads and had run off in the opposite direction toward some music which was playing from the window of an open car down the road, which they later stole and sold for parts and lived happily ever after. Speaking of bricks, there were three or five standing in the middle of a field like stupid moronic doofuses. I meant that typoo… err… that one too. Now I wasn’t bored, so I sort of stopped talking, but kept typing anyway, despite Sam bugging me about a stupid stunt he just pulled in his desk chair.
I stopped typing after writing about a bunch of stuff that I have now written, and a bit more. Well, that was fun for half an hour, now on to other stuff… think I’ll run around in circles for a while and fill up on empty cans of Pepsi…. Did you know conflagration is a word?
© 2003 JimSoft