Java House 3

Welcome to Java House Three. I never knew we would make it here, but dangnamit look at us now! The time is 08:34, and the day is February 22nd, 2020. This morning I discovered a pretty badass song titled ROXANNE, by Arizona Zervas, and I discovered it because I was looking for the song Roxanne, by The Police. I added them both to my latest playlist on Spotify, More Butt Than Ashtray’s. Can you tell how I feel? I don’t get more butt than ashtray’s, but I firmly believe that my skills as a writer will get me laid in the future. Lately, I’ve been thinking I finally record that hip-hop album I alwayss talk about. It’s quite obvious [to me] that taking to a stage with some music will be one of the fastest ways for me to spread the word about my blog. Whoa! This Triple Cubano is friggen serious business. Sugar. Caffeine. Twain…that means two.

One time I was talking to this girl on a bus in San Francisco…it was the 30 inbound, and I was coming from the Starbucks Reserve on Chestnut; I told her about my blog, wuwu, and if I recall correctly she was beginning to think I was an egotistical asshole lol. Many times when I tell people I write under the penname Spark Twain [“My name is Chris, but I am also Spark Twain;” or: “My name is Spark Twain, but you can call me Chris.” Those are my two opening lines] they same something like “Wow, you must think your a pretty good writer using a name like that. You must think you’re the next Mark Twain.” The time of which I speak on the bus, I was getting that attitude, and I looked that lady right in the eyes and said “I think I am going to be much more popular than Mark Twain. There are 250 million English speakers in India, and 750 million more that want to learn.” Her jaw literally dropped, and she didn’t laugh. I continued to hit on her until she got off the bus. She wasn’t having it. And, either way, she wasn’t the girl with the grey jacket and tan Lulu’s. That means she wasn’t my girl! I don’t remember either of their faces, but I do remember the later woman’s ankles.

Some dude came up while I was writing that last paragraph and pretended to give the coffee shop owner the boot as he was cleaning the windows lol. It was a little funny. These old folks around here are pretty funny. Except when they beep at people and call them assholes at seven in the morning, like I saw yesterday. Trust me when I tell you that you will get a full examination of the people in this area, because since my father moved here, I am going to be spending ample time here, I am pretty sure of that.

This morning I ate at a restaurant down the street called Oasis. Bad choice. I feel like shiiiit. I might feel like shit because my father and I also ate at this place called Ford’s Garage last night, and I went HAM eating a burger and ¾ of a plate of nachos. I just had a yawn! It’s 08:57 in the morning and I just had a yawn. Yuck. Anyway, that doesn’t really matter. I am young, and my body will reset itself. Recently I have been getting back into the drinking coffee thing, but when I arrived here, I did take a pretty good about of time off. Maybe seven days in a row? Maybe ten days in a row? Maybe it was only five; it’s hard to tell sometimes, how much time has passed. I do know that I am a little sweaty as of recent. It’s gross, but I deal with it.

How do you think my life would be if I came back down here in a month, got a med-card [I actually think I need to be here six months before I qualify], and started chillin and blowing the dodie? I don’t know if I would go the med shops, but at least I could smoke on my own property and feel 100% safe. Right now…I don’t. Even though it is obviously very chill around here. One of the big problems is that I have a hard time living with my father. He ain’t living right! His health is in obvious decline, and his mind is in the passenger seat. You know what this mf tells me last night? Over and over and over again I keep telling him the same basic things, such as “Just try doing five squats in the morning,” or “just take one lap around the block,” and he doesn’t. He tells me that he won’t change because that’s just how he is. He admits openly that he wants to better his health, but he just doesn’t like people telling him what to do. So I tell him “Look, you will eventually make these changes, I know this for a fact, because a doctor is going to tell you that you have to change your diet and start excising. Why not just believe me, and start making the changes today?” and you know what this mf says? This mf has the audacity to say “Yeah but when I hear it from a doctor I’ll feel like, idk, like it’s my job or something.”

That is just one reason I have been struggling down here. My sister plays a big part of the picture, because my father wayyyy to nice to her. You know how some people give their daughter special treatment? Case, and point. They both just want me to leave them alone. Okay! I’ll leave you fools alone, but since I wrote this, I have to post it. I waited weeks before I wrote this, but now? Well now I wrote it…and I can’t unwrite it. My sister wants to be a writer, but she doesn’t take any of my advice. Literally, the only time she has messaged me unwarranted is when she was telling me that she’s gay, and she wanted to know what my father would think about it. I was nice to her, of course, but years after the fact I am definitely thinking…where is she when I need her?

Just returned from a lil bathroom break, I have, and a girl just walked in with the infamous elephant pants. I am going to ask her if she got them from Thailand. I have long been under the impression that anyone wearing those pants has been to SE Asia, but perhaps…some of these people just purchased them around here. I have seen some people wearing those pants, and…I’m not so sure they have been to Thailand. It is kind of weird to ask people these things…but I am still going to do it lol. Here goes nothing!

Drumroll pleaseeeeeee! The answer is no, she did not get them in Thailand [or SE Asia], but she did purchase them for only $1 at a local thrift store. At least that is something I can approve of! If she told me she copped them for like $20 I would have given her one of those ‘can you smell what the rock is cooking’ faces. She also told me her friend went to Thailand and got similar pants, so, at least she knew of which I spoke. Somewhere in this area though…I get the feeling there is a store selling those pants for $20. Actually, now that I am thinking about it, I’m not sure one could cop those pants in Thailand for as cheap as she did. My memory is so poor, it’s practically non existent, but I believe that pants would be like 120-150 baht. Maybe you could cop them for the good 70 baht, but even then…that’s closer to $2.50.

How appropriate is it that I just write whatever I want on my blog? Instead of going and talking to this girl for a second time, I am thinking about just writing some dirty stuff on my blog lol. Would I be happier if I went and talked to her? Hmm. Let’s…find out! This will just be a break from my writing today; something unusual this is, for me. Certainly! The time is 09:37.

How do you think that went for me?

Actually it went pretty well, but I am still not going to tell you what her name is. She is a nice girl, and she likely shares some of my same interests. At the end I asked if I could follow her on Instagram, and she told me she just deactivated all her social media. She told me she wanted to be more present. I waited…for her to offer me a different method of communication to contact her…but she didn’t serve it up, and so we agreed maybe we would see each other at this coffee shop again someday.

It’s possible that women think I am a slut. In fact, I believe it must be the case, otherwise I cant figure out why no one is interested in me. I’m just a dirty twenty-seven year old man! And although I am embarrassed to say it, I haven’t had sex in about six months. Now, that doesn’t mean I am looking to settle down; by no means am I ready to settle down. I gotta wholeeeeee-lotta fucking to do still. But, I am a pretty nice guy. I like to spend a week with a girl before I break her heart. At the end of the day, either you’ll have slept with Spark Twain, or you’ll have not. People will continue to choose the later, I know this, but once I get my money straightened out, I am going to be even more of an asshole. I won’t be getting laid more because I became more of an asshole either; that’s just a guess. But I will be getting laid more. Also, by writing paragraphs like these, I am certainly trying to attract a certain type of woman. I have mommy issues, Baby, and I am not going to be turned off when you tell me you have slept with 150 men, or 1,500 men [I haven’t experienced a women like that yet, but I would definitely love to love someone like that, until I get bored].

You know what the girl with the big butt and elephant pants told me though? She told me that Big Sugar has been ruining the water quality of the beaches around here. What happens is, they drain all the waste from the sugar production into lake Okeechobee, and apparently the beaches in this area are ruined by the runoff from that waste. She told me that for most of the summer there are signs up saying not to swim in the water. If I told you that “sugar causes dementia,” would you believe me? That information is something I read on @future4200‘s Instagram story. I can’t recall if he said ‘alzheimers,’ or ‘dementia,’ but I don’t think it is worth messaging him and asking him. Dustin, if you ever read this, know that I am very vigilantly trying to do you name honor. I’ve been following you on ig for over two years now, and I really think you are a positive influence on humanity. Many, many of the things I write on this blog are things I learn for you, or things that are inspired by the information you have provided for us.

It all comes together quite nicely when I learn that Big Sugar is fucking up the beaches in SW Florida.

Spark Twain

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