The Shockuation Room

I have been cracking myself up even more than normal lately. I don’t really know why. I see someone walk by me and they are perfectly normal and probably have more money than me, and I just crack up.

Am I going insane?

This time I say no.

Cracking yourself up is a good thing in my book. Unless you do it blatantly, obnoxiously, stupid (and have an annoying laugh).

Basically, just do what you feel unless it’s insanely rude to someone.

And if it is, just think about doing it and laugh.

Yours,

Justin A. Marshall

How about what you’re doing right now? It’s weird isn’t it? I don’t really understand anything. Things happen. Are they meant to? Probably… All those weirdos and people and things that seem useless are as important as you. Weird to think like that, huh?

I am going to fly a thing that is a field of my mind. It will flow like the glow of wheat as the sun rises on the dawn of a new day. This blog would be updated everyday if google would have followed through with their promise of pay. However, invalid click disenfranchised my desire to write random randomness that came from my mind. I hit some button and now it’s zoomed in. That reminds me of Mazda, zoom zoom zoom.

Bye,

Justin A. Marshall

So,

Last week I believe it was….

It was about 10:30 at night, of course I was hanging out by myself and my grandpa and grandma were asleep. Suddenly, I heard Patches freaking out and a knock at my door. My grandpa said…. “Justin, there is a GAL to see you.”

I said…. “A GAL?”

So I go out there, into the pitch black because no one turned on the lights.

I can’t even make out this lady’s face and she starts begging.

“Justin.. You have to get me into Rite Aid.”

J- “What?!”

Lady- “I forgot a picture and am going to get killed if I don’t get it for the funeral tomorrow!”

J- We open at 8 am.

Lady- Moans and makes weird noises.

J- (freaked out)

Lady- I have to get in there.

Justin- There is seriously nothing I can do. I can’t get you or anyone in to Rite Aid, I have no keys.

Lady- Moans and makes weird noises

She starts freaking out more asking if I know anyone else that works there’s number. I don’t. So I get a phonebook and it’s not in there. She then starts quizzing me about cars, houses and so on.

It’s weird.

Then the next day I found out she stopped by someone else that works there house at 11 pm.

WOWZERS

It’s been a long time guys. Sorry….

Lots of things have happened.

I have successfully completed my two months of not drinking.

I am still working at Rite Aid.

I listed my first piece of property.

I am very close to selling my first home.

I also have many funny pictures to show you…

ENJOY!

Hey over here:

Now, I know that CD sleeps a lot. That’s just how it goes. However, there is a detail that most people don’t know, so I’m sorta telling you a secret, that secret is CD is very clever. He gets all his cleverness from sleeping and hiring other people to do his work for him. He may or may not have a split personality that is competing to see who can come up with better ideas.

STOP TALKING! PAY ATTENTION!

Back to the inner workings that go on at CD’s apartment. CD had a lavish bed, it was fourteen feet wide by eighteen feet in length. It was extended eight and a half feet off the ground. He has a series of ladders and lifts to get to the top. The mattress was three feet thick. It was one of the most comfortable beds I’d seen in my time. How long I or CD have been around is not known. Next to his bed he had a chimpanzee that had a laptop attached to his stomach. Don’t worry, it caused the chimpanzee no harm. This was an evolutionary trait that Chimpanzees had gained over time, once again, I don’t know how long it took because of the clock situation. A great deal of the time that CD was sleeping wasn’t truly spent sleeping. This is why the next morning he was always groggy and wanted more sleep. The chimpanzee who has a name, that name being Jack Jill Patrice, recorded everything that CD uttered. This was very time consuming. Like an all day job. Some of the mutterings that CD muttered were just pointless babble ranging from how grass should be orange and trees should be powder blue. Don’t ask me why he mentioned these things.

CD somehow amongst all his napping and sleeping knew about this problem and hired a group of over sized praying mantises to come in after the robots and fight them until they got back to work. These fights were epic. Neither side could ever pull out a victory. However, the fights would rage for hours. How long? NO ONE KNEW! Their fricking clocks didn’t work, remember?! Anyway neither the over sized praying mantises nor the robot would ever be victorious. And CD knew this too. For he had been charging people to come view these fights every night for at least a decade.

The following for these fights had become almost unreal. There were sections of town that followed the robots or the mantises so closely that they at highest of obsession had formed their own churches. These churches really didn’t believe that a robot or a mantis was God. But, instead a lower class of god. One that could provide a light in the dark times that his community was going through. Now, I know I said there was groups of both mantises and robots. But really the fight was focused on one of each. For the mantises his name was Mantis and for the robots, his name was The Robot. If members of the church of the Mantis crossed paths with members of the Fellowship of the Mighty Robot, both sides would stay civil, but immediately after passing each other would begin muttering how their preferred leader was better.

During church both churches had very serious rituals.

For the church of the Mantis every time that CD would do so, the rest of the church would follow his lead and get down on their knees, put their forearms on the pew in front of them and hiss nonstop or until the first person passed out, this was normally an elderly man or an infant that couldn’t support his or her own head yet… The newborn typical fell over within, I would guess six seconds, I couldn’t tell for certain because there are no functioning clocks. Even the second hands periodically stop just to throw you off.

In the Fellowship of the Mighty Robot CD would lead the group of Robot crazed followers as he would flail his arms about while saying “Danger, Danger!” This would normally go on until an elderly woman was smacked side the head and knocked unconscious.

If you’re picking up on something, you’re probably picking up on that CD leads both churches. And you’re probably wondering if anyone has a problem with that. The answer to that question is a resounding….. no.

I had a dream last night. No. Not in the same sense as Martin Luther King JR., but it went like this.

I was going to talk to my pastor and when I got there he said “Hey Justin we are all going to a pizza place so I can’t really talk now, but would you like to go get some pizza with all of us.” I said “Sure, but I have to work in a few hours so I will need to get back soon.”

So I ate pizza, talked for a while and then out of nowhere a bus to take people to see friends in family in the Marine base that was in Marlette, Michigan was about to depart.

That was weird enough because there would never be an army, marine, air force, coast guard or any base in Marlette. Nonetheless I got on the bus to see my friend Rob Shadley, who is not in or never been in any armed service division. I got there and I talked to Rob for a while before some jackass Marine decided he wanted to kick my ass, I told him “I don’t really want to fight you because I have to get to work soon.” He insisted so I kicked his ass. And the rest of the Marines broke it up and got in my face, but they said “This guy is an asshole and no one likes him.” So they finished the job and nearly killed him.

At this point I got on the bus to take me back. I get back to where my vehicle was supposed to be but it was gone! I was freaking by this point. SO I started frantically running around the entire town of Marlette. Out of no where I see my Astro Van. The only problem is that February I got in a car accident in which I rolled the astro van three times and landed in a drainage ditch full of ice water. This van in my dream had the same damage done to it. All windows smashed and blown out, every tire exploded and so on. I got in and drove to Rite Aid. By this time I was about an hour and a half late. I got there and instead of being able to walk through the front door I had to squeeze my way through little holes of a barn that was full of hay. I finally got through all of this before I reached a hole that was far to small for me to fit in. So I had to squeeze my way all the way back out
run three blocks around to the front of the building.

I ran in there and explained what happened and apologized. There was a woman in the corner that I didn’t know. My boss told me she had to fire me and hire Karen. Karen was the woman in the corner. She would start immediately.

The end.

Now I have to get to Rite Aid before three p.m.

AHHHHH

Weird.

Listen:

I woke up today and I was tired. It just so happened that a man who doesn’t have a name woke up and did the same thing. Where he lives is as unimportant as a horse sniffing glue. Even though he doesn’t have a name his name is Cough Depressant. Now, answer me this, would you rather have that name or no name? Case closed. We all would pick Cough Depressant.

Anyway, CD woke up and was excruciatingly tired. He said to himself “Shit, I should have got more sleep last night.” He replied to himself, saying “Stop your whining, seriously, you’re pathetic, you got 23 hours of sleep last night!” “You liar, I only got 17 and a half!” “No you didn’t!” Anyway, this went on for some time. Finally, after CD had exhausted himself into a heavy sweat he decided he better take a nap. Both sides of him agreed with that strategy.

CD slept for quite a long time. I couldn’t be sure the exact length of time because none of his clocks work in his apartment. As a matter of fact, where he is from a working clock that maintains the correct time is outlawed and punishable by having all of the toes of the accused person pulled until cracked, not broken, just the knuckle in the toe, (if there is one) cracked; a good, loud, healthy pop!

PAY ATTENTION!

Most of CD’s clocks purposely were set to shut off every three and a half hours, that is if that’s actually what time they shut off, others were set to randomly turn to whatever damn time they felt. It was a crazy world inside his apartment. Some of the clocks were operated to stay at the wrong time by sloths. The sloths did a good job, but the clocks they maintained could almost always be counted on being behind. Others were operated by hummingbirds that some how continuously were taking amphetamines. Those clocks could ALWAYS be counted on being WAY WAY ahead.

There was a group of penguins that did all the custodial work around his apartment. They came in every day for give or take fourteen hours. They did a great job, besides all the fish and poop they left behind. So to clean up after the penguins CD hired a group of narcissistic robots. They were there for the reminder of the day give or take 9 hours. The robots didn’t get much work done. They picked up some of the poop and most of the fish each day, but unfortunately for CD he had mirrors by each of the trash receptacles in his apartment. The robots every time they were throwing whatever hunk of junk away would gaze for unknown periods of time at themselves lovingly in the mirror.

Ok….

So. I was going to write a short little story. But it has evolved into something that i want to work a little more on. I have to work at 8 am. So I need to sleep. I won’t be able to finish it tonight.

I will let you read it soon.

Yours,

Justin