Wednesday, February 10, 2016


Good news! I've begun writing BY HAND in a personal, private journal. And yes, I did almost spell it "jernal." Jernal. There has got to be an idiot kid out there with the unfortunate name of Jernal. Am I that idiot kid? Am I Jernal Wiemer?

Anyway, a private journal. A place where I can complain about writer's block, worry endlessly about my future (or lack thereof), wax poetic about dreams involving Woody Harrelson and Kanye, and bitch about my various exes. Yes. Now I won't embarrass myself or ruin my chances of employment here on this blog. WHICH MEANS... I am free to discuss current events with you. Politics, entertainment, you name it. That could be the title of my blog. "Politics, Entertainment, You Name It! Jernal's Musings on Life in the 21st Century."

Donald Trump. My thoughts? Here we go. So I am about 87% certain that he is nothing more than a really good performance artist. I still can't believe that he is serious about all of this. A part of me believes that the Clintons and the Trumps got together one lazy afternoon in the Hamptons and discussed the possibility of him running for office. It began as a joke, brought on by one too many mimosas. But then it snowballed into a full-fledged plan. Soon everyone was sober and serious and scheming and here we are -- a year or so later and Trump is giving the performance of his life.

Beyonce. I just really like her thighs. I know that's me being a lamewad and judging another woman's body, but I can't help it. None of us can help it. We are animals. We look at other people and their bodies and I think it's okay to like or dislike something on the surface, so long as we realize that it's ultimately silly to do so and that there is far, far more to a person than just their arms/legs/thighs/ankles/neck acne. NECK ACNE. I remember sitting behind a boy in an English class who had the worst neck acne and it would be bleeding half of the time. Poor kid. But at least he had nice thighs.

Black Lives Matter. Yes, they do. And I am not going to get into this because it actually deserves some serious thought and respect and not just me being a dumbass making dumb jokes and rambling on and on and making obscure references to Russian novels and interrupting everything by adding parenthetical statements that do nothing but, well, interrupt. A subject of this magnitude needs none of that from me. I will say, however, that the Unitarian church up in Salt Lake has a banner outside of their building declaring "Black Lives Matter." Thank you for that, Unis. Time to step up your game, every other religious organization.

Well! That was fun. It was nice to be a little more lighthearted today in my post. It took me over one thousand posts to realize that maybe a dear old diary is the way to go for most everything on my mind. But don't you worry -- I am not "shorting" you on anything. This gal (me) has got a lot on her mind, except for when she's chewing on ice cubes. I will always, always have something to say. Don't let my shyness fool you, fools. (I say "fools" in the most endearing way. You are the sun in my sky, the cream in my coffee, the Kanye in my unheated outdoor swimming pool. Love you, fools.)

No comments: