Ping Pong

The other day I went roaming about on my bicycle. It filled me with pulsating ecstasy, especially with the wind flying at you like a rabid, hungry coyote. Personally, biking about is most euphoric with a lot of wind, because at first it's like you're being blown away, and at the same time it's like you're trying to not get blown away, so you pedal like a Daft Punk song title and it all balances out in the sense that you keep moving foreward, which isn't really balanced, but you know what I mean. Right?

Well anyway, I didn't want to talk about biking, even though biking is awesome. I wanted to talk about ping pong. I don't know why, but who does? Certainly not you. Unless you do know, which is just plain creepy. I mean, how often does someone know something about you that you don't know? Generally those kinds of things happen at parties when someone pats you on the butt and you didn't know he or she had cake in his or her hand. By the way, I like to say "he or she" and all that because not only is it impeccable grammar, it adds to my word count and makes me feel more accomplished in my lengthy writing abilities, even though that's just another way of saying "wordiness" and is basically a bad thing. Shush, you.

So anyway: ping pong. It's a game. With paddles. And balls (or, you know, a ball). And a flat surface. And a net. And some string/rope to hold up the net. And little metal things that help hold up the net too (I guess the net is just a wimp, needing all these things to hold it up), although I suppose those could be wooden or plastic or made out of bone or something, I don't know.

But anyway, you've caught me rambling, and I should get to the point (if there is one). So, I was playing ping pong the other day, and that's why I'm writing about it. Or maybe it's just because ping pong is an awesome game. I mean really, what other games are there that you can hit some small plastic thing and try and make it hit this square-ish bit of wood and then go "yay!" when it hits? It's like a child's game except it doesn't get old or childish--it's in the Olympics, for crying out loud! Maybe people who compete in the Olympics are just trying to act like children. We should build houses for them and then they may feel more grown up. Unless that's what they want us to do. Maybe we should just do nothing and let it all go happily along. Except maybe we aren't happy. Who knows.

Anyway, the word "anyway" is just an awesome word. How many times have I started a paragraph with it? Pretty much all of them if you don't mind a "but" or "so" being in the way. Those "but"s and "so"s. I'll get them. Just like I got Bob Stewart. Actually, who is he? I don't know. Maybe he likes ping pong too, I should call him and ask if he wants to play. I'll be all "Hi Bob, let's go play ping pong" and then he'll be all "oh my god I love ping pong and since you want to play with me I love you too" and then I'll be all "awesome let's go play" and then he'll be all "okay let's do it!" and I'll be all "yay" and then hang up and not know where or when to go to play and feel silly and then I don't know what I would do. Perhaps I'd call back, or maybe just go play ping pong with someone else, because, you know, I don't know who Bob is anyway. He's probably one of those wild cat people who sing and dance on hands as well has legs and feet. Maybe he has psychic powers too. Actually if he has psychic powers I wouldn't want to play with him because he'd do things that shouldn't be done while you are playing ping pong. Like making food hover right in front of his mouth so he can eat and play. That's just unfair. Unless he did the same with my food; then that'd be alright. And by "same," I don't mean he'd eat my food, I meant he'd hover it in front of my face. So I could eat it. Because eating food rocks. Or, you know, cakes.

Now anyway, when I was playing ping pong, there was this dramatic part where the ball got lost. It was such a tragedy, so we hired these people to play sad music, but we found the ball before they came so we would have told them to go away when they finally arrived, except we lost the ball again. However, that was okay because I found this oblong rubber bouncy ball to play with. It was so much fun, it was like playing with a football except it mostly bounced where you expected it to go. Unless you put spin on the ball. Then it went wild. We lost it soon after we tried putting spins on the ball. We think one of the people playing sad music swallowed it, so we tried to make them all throw up but they left instead. They shouldn't be allowed to have such fast cars. There should be a law saying that if you swallow oblong bouncy balls you should give your fast car away to someone in need. Like me. Obviously I'm in need, because I have a blog. Okay so that's not really true, but still. I could use some fast cars! I mean, how else am I going to impress that squirrel on the third floor of my building? Throw nuts at it? Give me a break, here! I've been throwing nuts at people and they all hate me! Are squirrels any different? Probably not, but I suppose we should strive for statistical accuracy. Anyone want to send me some nuts? Thanks!

Right. Ping pong. So anyway, after loosing the oblong rubber bouncy ball thing, we found the actual ping pong ball and we started playing with that again and became very good and putting spins on it. It was spinning so much that it was like that "you spin me right round baby" except it wasn't like a record, it was like a ping pong ball. Or, I suppose, like a grapefruit. But grapefruits sound nasty, because it isn't a grape, and it can get into your eyes. Grapes don't get into your eyes. At least not since I've started eating them, so they may just be planning something. I'd better eat them faster so they don't have time to pull off whatever they are trying to do.

So anyway, that was my experience with ping pong. Except for the things that happened. I didn't put that in there. Or maybe I did. I forget. But anyway, I have to go to the bathroom.

The Math Final

It all began one morning when I woke up. Like most stuff usually does--I mean, how can something begin without me being awake? It just doesn't.

Anyway, so what happened was I woke up, got ready for the day, and then went along to eat breakfast. Such a traumatic experience. Err, I mean dramatic. Same thing. Whatever.

So I haven't told you anything, right? Right. Well actually I did convey to you my consciousness by this point, so maybe I have communicated something to you. But anyway, that's not important. So after doing my morning stuff, I sit at this table, and there are two guys there. They're studying their asses off, with all the sweat and steam coming out of their ears and other bodily orifices as they go "oh my god when we were supposed to learn about this? I totally do not remember taking notes on how to hold a spoon properly. Why is this even in here? Oh wait wrong notebook."

On an unrelated note, where is my tissue box? I need to blow my nose.

*Ahem*

So yeah. I take my notebook out as I begin to feast on my Rice Crispies. Rice Crispies are very delicious by the way, and also quite handy. One time I had all these gaps in between the bits of a particular cereal I was eating, so I poured in some Rice Crispies and the gaps went away. It's like a super power. Filling gaps. With small cooked rice thingies. I don't know if Superman could have done that. Maybe Spider Man, but definitely not Wonder Woman. Aquagirl, I suppose, could have.

Going through my notebook, similar thoughts begin to course through the very essence of my veins--because, you know, thoughts go through them. Like rice bits filling in gaps. Except not. Okay so they went through my head, big deal. But the thoughts weren't about "oh my god I don't know this" kinds of things, they were more like "oh my god these Rice Crispies are so good I want to eat more of these gap-filling rice thingies I can't stop eating them I love them so much and how they crunch and snap and crackle and pop it is so awesome." Of course, my math notebook made it very hard to think about those kinds of things because it was about integration. And not just any kind of integration, triple integration! double integration! oh my god five-thousand times integrating the same thing with so many variables! Actually it just stopped at three. But that's still a lot. Actually it is. This one time I had to evaluate this triple integral, and wow it took up a whole notebook. I usually have small handwriting, but this time the integral just took over my hand and I had to write one character on each page! Each page! Think of all the pencil graphite I wasted. Pages upon pages of wasted graphite! It was also a pain to write out and everything, because I had to look back fifty pages to see what I had written before, and if I got something wrong and had to correct it, well, just think off all the rubber I had to use to erase it all! I mean really, what kind of insane textbook is my class using anyway? Why don't they get a new textbook that has problems that doesn't take over your hands and make them do things you don't want them to do?

So yea, while I was eating cooked, gap-filling rice bits, I was looking through this notebook. It wasn't the one with all the wasted pencil graphite, it was a different one. This one had the good stuff in it. You know. The good stuff. The awesome stuff. The euphoric stuff. The stuff that drives you into an ecstatic frenzy of pure rapture. Yeah.

So after breakfast, I go to my math class. It isn't really a class this time, however, because we were taking a final exam. Which was exciting, because we don't really take very many. Actually this was our first one of the whole quarter! I was so excited to be taking the first final for our class, I just couldn't contain my excitement! I had to keep running outside for a sip of water and to dance in pure joy. That made me very sweaty and everyone thought I was nervous, which I wasn't really. I mean, I had only thrown up twice and wet my pants thrice. That's not nearly as nervous as this one time when I almost died of dehydration from all my pant-wetting. I nearly flooded the building too. Poor building.

Thirst. Wow I'm thirsty. Hold on, let me grab a cylindrical tube with a bottom to hold liquid dihydrogen monoxide.

*cough*

So then, after all this dancing and drinking and hopping about, I turned in this final. After finishing it, of course. Rarely do I turn in a final without finishing it. The last time I did that my teacher told me "that I was a very silly boy who was teasing her incessantly," which, of course, was not the case. I could never tease her. Especially not when she wears that jacket. Or those leather boots with rocket launchers or something on the bottom. I don't know what they are, but they look like rocket launchers. Maybe they are garden hoses. I don't know.

I don't really remember what happens next. I probably went back to this eating place where people ate and put some complicated carbon chains on a plastic, oval, solid cylinder, took them to a lady, let her borrow a thin, plastic, rectangular prism, sit down with it all at a table, and then shove it all into my mouth. Except for the plastic. Plastic does not taste very good. I once tried to eat some but it didn't fit in my mouth, so I haven't tried since. I probably should try again. I can only imagine the wondrous things that I'm missing out on because of my small mouth.

Actually my mouth isn't that small. Or maybe it is just large and I don't know it. Maybe my oral size has a potential that has yet to be achieved. I should look into it all.

Anyway, that was pretty much how the day went. Except for all the stuff that didn't actually happen, which is mostly everything I said.

Toodles!