Random and Disturbing Thoughts
Emmaline Westlund
Random and Disturbing Thoughts
Copyright 2012 Emmaline Westlund
Published by Destruction Productions
My name is Emmaline Westlund. Today is January 18th, 2012. I am writing this… essay? Random string of words? In an effort to fill the time that the Internet generally takes up in my life. I am writing this to show how much of my life, how much of our lives, the internet takes up.
A word of warning, should you choose to read on, you will find many “status updates,” or paragraphs about random crap that happens to me throughout the day, weird thoughts that pop into my head, and descriptions of the huge, reeking deuce my cat just dropped in the litter box. And much of it will make no sense.
Our journey begins at 3:02 AM Central time. I’m in my bedroom, in Fridley, Minnesota. I am listening to “We Built This City” by Starship. Puss Puss (my cat) is laying at the foot of my bed, cleaning her side and glaring at me every once in a while.
I have to clean the fish tank later.
I have 10 fish. One betta (not in the same tank as the others) his name is Hugo. I used to have another betta in another tank whose name was Victor. Victor Hugo, get it? The other 9 fish I currently have are Zebra Danios and Glofish.
My mom passed away in November and this is only the fourth Word document that I’ve done anything to. It will also be the first thing I will have published following her death.
Speaking of that, I really should think of a title for this beast.
It is only 3:09 AM now. Linkin Park is what I am listening to, and I’m contemplating a trip to the kitchen for a couple more pickle things. I don’t know if anyone else’s families do this, but both sides of my family make these delightful pickle things where you take cream cheese, slather it across a piece of ham or corned beef, and then wrap it around a pickle. It is SO DELICIOUS. I highly recommend it. Unlike lutefisk, which is absolutely disgusting.
My tattoo itches.
If you are wondering what exactly this e-book is supposed to be about, I will answer this: I am calling it a 24-hour memoir. It is my first person account of the events of January 18th, 2012 in Fridley, Minnesota. Including the fact that I will sleep for about twelve hours, then get up and feed my cats, drink a can of Coke, and work on another book.
This will be a good place to plug my other books.
Note to self: try not to sound too crazy.
Think of this as an excessively long blog entry. Only without pictures or anything really important at all.
My tattoo STILL itches.
I’ve written a little over four hundred and sixty words in the past 13 minutes. Not bad. Better than I do most days of National Novel Writing Month. I wonder how long this thing will actually be?
To think that all of this would be going on my facebook if I weren’t protesting SOPA by turning off my internet. I’m probably pissing a lot of people off by saying internet and not Internet. If a capitalization bothers you that much when speaking informally, and this is speaking informally, as I am not marketing this as a great masterpiece, but rather a 99 cent piece of my brain, I don’t HAVE to follow your grammar rules.
Someday I really want to be a famous writer, maybe even with a real publishing deal. Right now I’m the most yawn inducing you can get as far as reviews and sales go. It sucks to not have good connections in this business. But I am going to keep trying and keep trying until I make it. I have ideas for more than 1,000 different books.
You shouldn’t think that this is my real writing style. This book represents nothing but my random thoughts throughout a day. I write a lot more organized and grammar-correct and good spelling when I am actually trying to impress. I mean, unless you have a crapton of money to waste on vanity press and public access TV and press releases, you can’t sell a metric fuckton of any sort of book with this writing style.
That wasn’t including Twilight.
But Twilight is a case of publishers and agents being fucking stupid.
Vampires shouldn’t sparkle.
Nineteen minutes have passed now and I am up over seven hundred and thirty words. And I’m just writing pretty much anything that pops into my head. I have a cat named James Tiberius Kirk. He’s almost three. He is obnoxious to an extreme. It’s pretty sad how obnoxious he is. But he’s a sweetie.
Mancala is the most amazing game ever.
The best book I have read in a long while was Swan Song. It was ah-MAZING. I mean it. You should go find it. Right now. By Robert R. McCammon. It’s DELICOUS. It’s almost impossible to put down. I admit the first chapter is a bit on the slow side, but stick with it because it picks up and then it grabs you and won’t let go. It’s about a nuclear apocalypse and it follows a few different characters from a few completely different walks of life. It’s really a great story. I want everyone who buys this book to go buy that book too. Right now.
Seriously, I’ll wait.
Did you buy it yet?
…
…
GO BUY IT ALREADY!
You know what I absolutely hate? The hold music that technical support call centers have. It’s always shitty. Unless it’s actually a slow day and then for some reason they’ve got the greatest hits of classic rock. Like Hotel California.
I find it sad that some day we will have to explain to our children what a floppy disk was. Or that there used to be some really wicked awesome games for computers when they all only ran DOS.
SEGUE!
Bert and Ernie. Really, America, what was that about? Why did you make them not be roommates anymore? Surely you can’t be that crazy paranoid of your children becoming gay because of a couple of MUPPETS that aren’t even gay, but two male roommates? What is that teaching your children, that when they’re in college and have same sex roommates that will make them gay?
I’m going to bed.
No, seriously.
You can’t stop me.
…
You’re not even trying.
Hare Krishna. Or as my Mom would randomly call me to say after we saw a few minutes of that weird “Love Guru” movie with the Shrek guy: Mariska Hargitay.
It is now 12 minutes to 1:00 PM, and I just woke up about a half hour ago. I fed the cats, and now life is good again.
Tattoo is really itchy today.
My Name is Earl is on. Have you ever watched that show? I never thought I’d like it, but I ended up sitting through it one night waiting for AFV and it wasn’t terrible. Now I watch it every day. I’m pretty sure I’ve seen ever episode.
Word of wisdom: the weave tap does NOT help a tattoo. Especially not one on your chest. It just makes it itch worse.
I’m already at four pages of this. Twelve hundred and eighteen words. That’s how much I would have posted to facebook, twitter, and my blog… Not to mention things I haven’t written because it would have been stuff I search on Google.
Because it would make even less sense than this little essay-type thing if I just listed stuff I was meaning to look up on Google.
I’ll lead you through a sample of my normal day now.
Wake up at about 12:30 PM, feed cats. Turn on laptop, check Facebook, Gmail, Twitter, and blog… Then repeat. And repeat. And possibly write for about a half hour. Then get bored and check my SmashWords, Amazon, and PubIt accounts. Do a chair dance if there’s another sale or more sales from last time I checked, and go check my facebook. Play a facebook game.
And it keeps going in a cycle like that. Toss in some weed and you’ve got the entire 17 hours I am typically awake in a day. Today, on the other hand, is filled entirely with writing this, aside from a few hours in which I will be going to Out
back Steakhouse with my Daddy and my Gramma.
I also need to do the dishes.
Jimmy is trying his hardest to distract me from the laptop now. It’s so cute. I will try to include a picture of him being all cutesy here.