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Rated: GC · Book · Personal · #2002599
My fourth blog. Amazing yet disconcerting. Don't worry; this'll go away in a year or so.
First there was "I'm Studying You...then there was "Who Do I Think I Am??. Finally, we reached "Who do I still think I am??.

Until now. Welcome to the Buffalo in your soul...


WDC's Longest Running Blog Competition - Hiatus Blog City image small


A fair warning.


Barrel Of Monkeys


*Trophyg* A THREE-TIME CHAMPION OF THE "30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS! *Trophyg*


A habitual line stepper.
A signature for Quills winners to use
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July 3, 2015 at 7:29pm
July 3, 2015 at 7:29pm
#853266
** Image ID #1911719 Unavailable **


'Sup y'all? Happy Friday, if it's still Friday where you're at! Today's prompt responses, while not exactly dovetailing nicely into one another, actually manage to cover a trifecta (some gambling lingo, used in this case because I know you're not betting illegally on anything I might have to say *Wink*) of sorts: they're conveying, uhhh, let's say the negative aspects of their respective circumstances. Or, simply put, they can be classified as bad things, man  . Bad things.

30 Day Image Prompt.


Fist off, for the "Invalid Item, we have a picture of what appears to be one hand reaching down to offer another person a hand. Now, if you know me you probably know that I'm not a religious kinda brotha in any sort of manner...and actually, if you are (not that I'm making any assumptions about any of my readers, but you're probably not), you may wanna skip this segment entirely because I don't wanna offend anyone's pretty little sensibilities. Y'all been warned.

Do we know what it's like to touch the hand of God? None of us in this lifetime will know it, because if you're a believer you're preparing to meet your deity in what's known as "the afterlife". We may say we have experienced this in a metaphorical sense, like through the eyes of a child or having just enough money at the end of the month for Taco Tuesday, but physically? It's an impossibility. I don't care what your Sunday School class taught you (full disclosure: mine taught me Jesus doesn't come down and smite you for lying to a priest...so there's my frame of reference in regards to Catholicism). You may try to get through your days on this planet by being a good person and helping others in need, thinking that'll get you out of heaven's lawn seats and into the VIP section, if that's your thing. Cool, whatever. I don't need a book to tell me I should always do unto others yadda yadda yadda, but that's just me. I'm not judging anyone's beliefs.

But you have to be careful, no matter what your religion. Sometimes the person you want to help up is trying to pull you down. And maybe the person giving you a hand isn't doing it for your benefit. That motherfucker telling you six days a week that he goes to church on Sunday and you're terrible if you don't could very well in fact be the devil himself...maybe he cheats on his wife or his taxes, or kicks puppies, or takes a few extra gulps from the holy chalice in the house of his own dear lord. You don't know.

I've had enough experiences with different religions to know that at best I'm skeptical of many of them. I'm almost 40; most of my opinions on many topics have already been solidified...it's not that I'm not open-minded, because I am. Religion is just one of those things that I have a no-compromise clause with in my belief system.

What's really important though is seeing the whole picture, and not just what others want you to see. If we zoom this image back out to its original form, this is what we're looking at:

Angels aren't always what they seem.
.

No thanks, higher power. I think life is something I'm better suited to be handling on my own, because I'm pretty sure if I were to start walking with a homogenized icon of this nature, what you see directly above is very likely to be the result of me passing through the pearly gates (even if my ticket has already been punched for the festival in the opposite direction).

Blog City image small


*Clouds* "With all the weather issues occurring around the world, what are some ways that people need to function together during a crisis? Is there something you and your family could during such an event? If you were impacted in the past, what did you wish people had done to help?"

Y'all know I'm from the northeast, right? Great Lakes, Buffalo NY, City Of Good Neighbors? And what do you know about that (don't say New York City, tryna act like you know when in reality they're at opposite ends of the state)? It snows. A lot. We don't get very many natural disasters. We get blizzards. Best know that once you're in the 716 between October and April you run the risk of Lake Erie blowin' shit-tons of snow on you at any given time. When you pulled up stakes lookin' for that sweet, sweet Buffalove, you did so with the understanding that you might need all six layers or more of clothing and a shovel. And maybe a damn good and reliable plowing service.

And that's what makes us the tough, resilient people that we are. It's why athletes from around the country move their families here after they've retired from playing for the Bills or the Sabres. When you tell people you're from Buffalo, their expectations of you change...they've heard what our winters have conditioned us for.

If there's one thing anyone growing up in WNY has learned from their grandmothers, it's that the minute the weather forecast calls for more than six inches of snow you immediately run to the store and buy up all the milk, bread, and toilet paper you can. You think I'm jokin'? Nope. It happens at least once or twice a season, and if you're that guy who waited until after the plows have made the streets passable, you'll likely be shit outta luck.

Most importantly however, in times of severe weather crises, we live by the words of a long-time mayor, the late Jimmy Griffin  : "Stay inside, grab a six-pack and watch a good football game." Then, of course, go help your neighbor shovel out his driveway, or dig out the car of a stranger stuck at the corner of your street. It's what we do.

BCOF Insignia


*Video* "Tomatoes used to be thrown at performers who told bad jokes back in the nineteenth century. Have you ever seen a show, live or on television, that if you had a tomato you would have thrown it? What was so bad about it? If you could have improved it, what would you have done?"

If you're asking me if I would have thrown a tomato at a bad performance...the short-form answer is "No, I'm too respectful for that." Stop laughing; it's true!

I've seen some shitty bands, watched stupid tv shows and movies, and sat through open mic nights consisting of mechanics and doctors who thought they were amateur comedians...not once have I had the urge to hurl rotten vegetables at them. I don't even like booing people. They put their pride aside in an effort to provide entertainment. That's a huge deal for some people; who am I to discourage them from something they may have a passion, but not necessarily the talent, for?

But what I do do is vote with my wallet. If I don't like a band, I don't go to their next show...but if I have a good time and I'm into the music, I'll buy a cd or a t-shirt (especially if they're a local band), and I'll probably be inclined to stay longer at the venue, which means I'm buying more drinks. If a comic or a group of comics isn't funny, I won't go back; if they are, I'll invite more people to check them out the next time they're on stage. It's all about word of mouth. It doesn't take much to be like "I'm not interested" or "I can't make it", but it says a lot if you're always showing up for gigs and bringing friends along.

Basically, I wouldn't like it if some dude who could barely put two sentences together got all up on me on Facebook or Twitter with the whole "Your blog sucks, ya pansy...go write a poem about it!" routine, so I have no business telling a musician he should stick to bartending. The world's full enough of message board heroes who think that because they have internet access and an opinion everyone should care what they think (I know that's essentially what I'm doing with a blog, but you know what I'm tryna say).

Blog divider.


You hear it often when a famous entertainer dies an undignified death, and unfortunately it seems to be the only time really, but the funniest people tend to be the ones with the most sadness inside. They're often the most inspiring and creative types, and that energy gets channeled into brilliant careers...but just like you can't really know what drives a person to wanting to leave the world so soon, you also aren't privy to the destruction inside or around them that can sometimes serve as the genesis of their work. All we see is the output, often without stopping to comprehend their madness, demons, or personal tragedies. As much as we tend to think of celebrities as selfish and fame whores, maybe it's us who expect too much from them in relation to our own well-being. Everyone's human.


"It's too close to home, and it's too near the bone...
more than you'll ever know."
Lyrics and interpretations.  


For the blog.


*Plane* Hard to believe the movie Airplane is 35 years old. It's been one of my favorites since I was a kid...so here's some fun facts   about it.

*Tv* I recently downloaded the Comedy Central app for my tablet (Hulu's just not doing it for me anymore, now that most of the decent network shows are on summer hiatus), and I've been trying to get into The Nightly Show...but it's, I dunno, I like Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert, but I'm still up in the air about Larry Wilmore. He did have Jim Gaffigan on the other day though, and he's pretty funny...I was entertained by the first episode of his new sitcom, so it's worth checking out this list   of times he nailed what it's like to be a father. Not that I can relate, but I suppose maybe that's why I find his words about it to be particularly interesting.

*Mugo* And finally, not that this is anything of note, but I managed to spend almost $100 grocery shopping this afternoon. For myself. Which is absolutely ridiculous, for any one person. I hit three different stores, which is kinda a big deal for me and my anxiety issues...I don't like leaving the house, I don't like talking to people, and I'd prefer to not be bothered and just eat tasty junk food the rest of my life because it's fun and comforting. But as soon as I found a store within short walking distance that wasn't also a huge mega-chain supermarket that sells produce, I guess I decided I'd try to start eating better (now if I'd just learn to stop putting cheese on everything *Rolleyes*). And because I hate shopping, when I go to this organic money-sucking oasis of healthiness, I usually treat myself to a bottle of Kombucha...an acquired taste that's grown on me. I like the strawberry one that I always get, but a cashier once suggested I try the mango one, and I was polite but like "Yeah, some other time..." 'cuz I'm not really into mango-flavored anything. But I got it today, and holy amazeballs, it was excellent. I don't know how else to describe it that doesn't sound repulsive, but it's like fermented orange juice that's been in the fridge for too long, if rancid, pulpy OJ was actually palatable. For reals! Don't, like, try to experiment with outdated juice, but for someone who loves orange stuff and not mango stuff, it's excellent. And I guess it's got health benefits or some shit. Whatever. I like it, so shut up.

Well, that's another Friday in the books for me. I'll be spending the rest of the night reading "30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS entries, because I'm wild and uncontrollable and can't be stopped. Y'all have a great weekend...peace, I've seen this happen, and GOODNIGHT NOW!!

July 2, 2015 at 2:59pm
July 2, 2015 at 2:59pm
#853125
** Image ID #1911719 Unavailable **


What's up you guys? Before I get started, I gotta say thanks to everyone for the love yesterday (my 14th WDC anniversary)...it was so cool getting the messages and emails and MB's and all that. Everybody should have an anniversary! Oh wait...*Facepalm*. But yeah, it was pretty great, so thanks again!

Now...what kind of mayhem will today bring us?

30-Day Image Prompt


Isn't this wild? It's a pitcher...that pours itself! I just said that last sentence to myself in Homer Simpson's voice, just for the sake of hilarity, and it works surprisingly well. But sadly, as a functional means of serving beverages, this item does not. Follow me for a few minutes...

See, I don't doubt that eventually a self-pouring pitcher will be in our future. What'll probably end up happening though is some lazy jackass business executive type will green-light this after seeing a prototype, and before we've even figured out that something like this is basically a plastic piece of crap it'll wind up in the As-Seen-On-TV section in millions of stores for the low, low price of $19.99, not to mention the plethora of infomercials plugging this at 3am (right around the time you've snapped to and realized you fell asleep five minutes into that umpteenth Frasier rerun). But wait, there's more!

See, as humans we envision things and we want them now, first, and quality often comes second. And that equals cheap. And then what sounds like a really fantastic idea just becomes more trouble than it's worth, collecting dust in your cupboards after little Billy tries to make it pour him some fruit punch and winds up ruining your fancy tablecloth because the batteries ran low or the stupid thing just decided to go kitchen-haywire. And since parents are often too preoccupied with the technology in their pockets to consider how batshit crazy a self-pouring pitcher could go wrong is, little Billy gets the belt for being clumsy. That's us, society...always deflecting the blame for our own shortcomings and laziness.

What we're really afraid to admit though is that the robots are taking over, and they're so advanced we don't even know it. What if that's not a pitcher pouring itself, but the hand of an invisible robot working its voodoo magic? I mean, you can't see it, so it's gotta be something mysterious, right? And you know the first people to invest in such wonders of mechanical science will be the same a-holes who never learned how to get their VCR's to stop flashing 12:00.

This is another reason why the aliens keep bypassing the planet Earth. We have no clue how anything works or what its purpose is, so long as it's cheap and we think we need it. We're so dumb.

Blog City image small


*Mail* "What are the most memorable things you have ever got in the mail?"

This is actually really hard, because I don't know if I've gotten anything colossally memorable throughout the course of my life in the mail...something I'll look back fondly on and say "Awww, I remember plucking that out of my mailbox!" And I consider myself to be a sentimental guy, but maybe I'm just not that sentimental. Or I really am a heartless person who doesn't care about anything at all. Quite an interesting paradox, I guess I can be.

I don't really get a lot of mail anymore, to be honest. I get excited when I receive Save $2.50 off one pack! coupons from Newport, but that's about it besides random letters from Social Services and my monthly bank statement reminding me how broke I am...that's about it. I joined Elle - on hiatus 's "The Snail Mail Forum, and I get some mail from kind people through that once in awhile, but I'm really bad about responding so maybe I shouldn't be complaining (which I'm not...am I? Hope not...).

Like seriously...the best mail I've received in the last month or two has been about applying for SSI at the end of the month. And my last copy of Wired magazine, that I subscribed to because my best friend from high school's wife's kid (guess that makes the kid his too, duh *Facepalm*) was selling subscriptions for Girl Scouts. I have a small stack of this particular magazine that I haven't even torn the plastic off of, because I never think to read them. But that's ok, because I'll always love Randy, Carol, and their family.

I should be lucky I suppose, because I don't get bills or a shit-ton of junk mail, nor do I have very many enemies that care hate me enough to send me glitter bombs or horse manure cupcakes  . The hate business is really boomin' these days. It must suck to be a mailman.

BCOF Insignia


*Thought* "How well can you memorize things? Do you have any helpful hints for memorizing information?"

I have a terrible memory. It's not a bad memory, because I can remember things from thirty years ago, but I can't remember the last time I ate. And as cool as it would be to be an actor, and I think I'd be pretty decent at it, I could never memorize my lines. I tried, in 7th grade, for the school play. I was an understudy for some role in Cinderella. It was mostly a lot of dancing, ballroom-like. I was terrible, and I quit. I'm not a great dancer either, unless we're doing The Running Man. I'm a mean-ass Running Man-er. Or was, considering I can barely walk now as it is.

So no, I don't have any really good memorization tips, unfortunately. Association seems to help me, like if I can associate words or sentences to objects or life events, but that doesn't always work on tests. I can tell you what has sucked for me...and that's being able to somehow pick things up quickly and manage to retain certain bits of info. Why does that suck? In high school I never had to study...I just paid attention in class, took notes and did homework occasionally, and did well come test time. Well enough to pass, I guess. Now? Fuck man, I studied my balls off both times I tried going to college, and outside of a writing-intense English course I did...not do so well. Being smart doesn't help, and neither does being interested and motivated. I'm convinced there's a whole lotta luck involved...there has to be. Any idiot can memorize anything through repetition; that's why so many kids pass kindergarten. We know our ABC's, but how many people do you know that can't write a text message or a simple Facebook status without subbing "u" for "you" and don't know the difference between to, too, and two? I can't be the only one who gets infuriated by the lack of fundamental spelling and grammar on display sometimes.

But that's not the point. You want my advice on memorizing? Buy a pair of Chuck Taylors, and get all punk rock on 'em. Draw anarchy symbols on them, doodle some shit, and cheat. Write all the pertinent info on the white part of the sole. Take it from me, the guy who can recite all of "Straight Outta Compton"  , but can't recall what happened to all of his beef jerky stash.

Blog divider.


I'm not crazy about this term in reference to myself, as I prefer to think I'm on top of things all the time...but the older I get (and prepare yourself to hear me start referencing age a lot in the coming weeks) the more I see things slipping away from me mentally. Not much stings more than realizing you forgot something- anything- when you've always kept things in order...especially when you set things up routinely for the expressed purpose of not forgetting particular things. When you're like "Why the fuck did I do that??" and you know there's a specific reason why, and alcohol, bad decisions, or rushed timing isn't involved, then you know you've got problems.


"Yesterday’s people end up scatterbrain.
Then any fool can easily pick a hole (I only wish I could fall in)."
Lyrics.  


For the blog.


*Rainbowl* I already know I spend way too much time on the internet, which is half the reason why I dump out so many links, but it's also how I generally wind up staying abreast of what happens in the world. So yeah, obvs I paid attention to the whole SCOTUS ruling on gay marriage (or as we should've been calling it, as it's been pointed out so many times now, marriage)...and many brands we're all familiar with showed support by rainbowing their logos  . What a great thing, my first thought was. But quickly after that I wondered about the companies that didn't show up on that list. Not Pepsi, not Coke, not Frito-Lay...and for all the time I waste online, yeah, I still couldn't possibly know everything and who supports what nowadays, but it's still troubling a bit when corporations are afraid to take a stance in fear of isolating consumers and/or losing profits. It makes me question why we're all so worried about loss more than what could potentially be gained by acting in what interests us most besides money or politics. Everything is a facade, it seems, more and more. I hate it. Big money can eat shit, as far as I'm concerned...it sucks that society panders too often to the corporations that control almost everything we consume  , from news to snacks to our lives. And there isn't much we can do about it. If we voted with our wallets and our time instead of how our hearts are played with by these organizations and political criminals, maybe a real change would come.

*Male* I'm a single, adult male. I've taken a lot of precautions (or whatever you choose to call it) to remain so for the long haul that maybe I'll be able to see through to the rest of my life. I've learned that I don't function well in relationships, partly because I can be an opinionated, outspoken asshole, and partly because I do the things that said opinionated, outspoken assholes do. Trust me...I'm very ok with this decision and all that it does or does not entail. It will take a combination of metric shit-tons of awesomeness and hotness to get me to change my mind (and that's on my terms, not yours or anyone else's), as I'm still of the age of desirability and capable thinking. That said, I'm glad to have found a resource that makes it ok to be single  , and I take comfort in the fact that I'm not alone in wanting to be alone.

*Quill* And finally...well, I have no other fun way of saying this, but I never once in my life imagined my rear end was something that could inspire anyone to write a poem. Yet, as things happen always surprisingly, Cinn managed to do such a thing based on the back-and-forth last night from my entry yesterday. Please back your asses up, cop a squat, and enjoy the only known tribute to the right side of my buttocks, "Invalid Entry. Your life will be richer for the experience.

And with that I have no choice but to put an end to this entry. I'd like to thank my guests, my inspirations, the powers that be, and you (provided you made it this far). Tip your bartenders, check out "The Blog Board, and always keep in mind that you get what you pay for. Peace, somewhere I'm not, and GOODNIGHT NOW!!

July 1, 2015 at 2:57pm
July 1, 2015 at 2:57pm
#852995
** Image ID #1911719 Unavailable **


How's it goin' everyone? It's July 1st...an important day in the storied history of a little website called Writing.com, colloquially and lovingly referred to as "WDC". And why is that, might you ask? Well, it's the first day of two beloved contests, the "30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS (you can still sign up if you're interested *Wink*) and the "Invalid Item. 7/1 also means that "Red Wedding updating is now over (big ups for raising over something like 25 million gift points, you crazy Thrones-ers!), which explains that giant collective sigh of relief and crumpling into desk chairs from exhaustion heard 'round the community at approximately 12:03am last night. But most importantly, on this day 14 (14!!) years ago, I joined Stories.Com and posted my first few poems online. And life hasn't been the same since. So everyone raise your cupcakes in a toast...not to me, but to all you people who've made this place what it is and worth stickin' around for. Cheers! *Cupcakep*

Now, on with the rest of today's entry, for real...

30-Day Image Contest


Well, look at that...it's two people jumping enjoying a perfect sunset on the beach. Somehow, between the time I first saw this image and now, it morphed in my head into two girls jumping with their silhouettes captured, but I'm clearly mistaken, and that ruined pretty much the direction I was gonna take. Damn.

You might look at this and think that these lucky individuals are showing praise to an undisclosed religion...one that bestows exuberance upon the end of daylight in a 24-hour cycle. They want their specific deity to know that they, in fact, are in so much awe of the oncoming moon that all they can do is raise their arms as a gesture of salutation for all the warmth and light the sun has provided them on this glorious vacationy day. And normally, you wouldn't be wrong...but since I'm ignorantly unaware of any religion that openly does this, and this being my blog, well, yeah, you're wrong.

What this is is a shot of the YMCA traveling team tryouts, Southern California division. These events are held in different regions throughout the US, looking to find that perfect quartet that goes from stadium to arena around the country...and these are the people you'll see at sporting events that come out and dance when the PA system busts out the "YMCA"   during a break in the action.

These dance-letes train long and hard, hoping for a shot on the national stage. Their goal? To be shown in bumper clips on SportsCenter as they go to commercial. Only the best and the brightest make it...the losers just go home and are relegated to hoping they'll get their chance at a Double-A baseball game or a pee-wee hockey tournament. But the winners? Well, I think we can all agree...there really are no winners here.

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*Mustache* "'A day without laughter is a day wasted.' -Charlie Chaplin. What are your thoughts on this subject? If you want to write something funny or nonsensical then go right ahead."

True dat...my man Charlie Chaplin knows what's up! Look, I know it's hard sometimes...if anyone knows that, it's me. But sometimes ya just gotta look at shit and laugh. If you don't, you'll drive yourself crazy letting every little thing bug the everlovin' outta ya.

Laughter's all around...ya just gotta know where to look for it and how to appreciate it (and nobody say nothin' about "Maybe you should follow your own advice, huh?"). Even in the darkest or sorriest of places, there's humor. It's healthy. It's cathartic. It shows you're a living, breathing human being with a soul...you're not a robot! Nobody actively wants to spend their days being miserable (again, bite your tongues).

Take a load off, even for fifteen minutes. Put everything else in your mind aside. If you're reading this, I know you have access to the internet then, and that means there are approximately 3.085 billion worlds of laughter available to you. But the key thing to remember isn't that laughter is external...it comes from inside. That's why it's said that when someone does something funny, they make you laugh. Nobody's laughing for you (unless you're just that idiot that doesn't laugh when someone says they're laughing with you, not at you, which could be the falsest statement this side of "I am not a crook."  ). You provide the physical outcome or summary of the action in front of you. It's your choice, whether you wallow in perceived sadness or decide to make a little funny outta whatever's goin' on.

Choose laughter. I think that's the kind of years of your life that's being added when President Lincoln alluded to something about that. And if Lincoln said it, it's gotta be true...I saw it on the interwebs.

Blog City image small


*Skier* "What is the most foolish thing you have ever done at work?"

Whoooo boy, have I done some foolish things while under the auspices of an employer before. Cinn and I were talking about this a little while back. Remember what I said in the last segment of this entry about laughter? Sometimes you have to seek it by breaking up the doldrums of a workday.

My first real, living-on-your-own, bona fide "adult job" was at a regional sporting goods chain in our local malls, Koenig Sporting Goods. I was promoted to Assistant Manager and was sent to a different location...with a bunch of good people, who shared my penchant for prankery.

One of the guys had an older brother that used to work for the company, and he introduced us to the slippery. It was basically a move where you were doing something normal and turned it into an accident. Physical acting at a comedic level. His demonstration of it consisted of grabbing a sale ad from the rack of the Rite-Aid across from us, and reading it while he walked directly into the three-sided mall directory sign and falling over. And people would stop and ask him if he was ok or if he needed help, and we were just doubling over because we knew it was on purpose! And knowing this guy, he probably said some really crazy shit on top of it.

So one day, we were setting up displays of Columbia ski jackets...the really nice ones that all the chicks were into before North Face fleece jackets were stylish. We had racks full of them, but we also had to display some up high. "Up high" meant standing on a ladder and using a pole with a hook at the end to hang them on the wall, probably ten feet high if the ladder was 6'. And with that, being a daredevilish 23-year-old, I abandoned all good sense and performed my signature slippery.

I "misjudged" my step on the ladder, while balancing a weighty ski jacket on a lengthy pole, and "fell" into a four-sided rack of Columbia jackets. With customers in the store, and in front of two other employees assisting me. It was hilarious...see, the other point of a slippery was to also see how much damage you could do in such a way that it wasn't entirely your fault for whatever happened. I might've wiped out three racks, but I busted a lot of hangers and bent a couple of rack extensions. A high-quality slippery.

Could I have been seriously hurt? Maybe. Was it dumb? Only if it got me in trouble. Foolish? Hells yeah!! It was way better than my first night there as the guy in charge, when I grabbed a $125 golf club driver and swung it like a pro...and my backswing caught a rack, putting a giant nick in the club face (and earning a modicum of respect from my associates). Damaged it out, the store got credit, no harm no foul *Wink*. Coincidentally the company went out of business a few months later. I'd like to think I had nothing to do with that.

Blog divider.


You can say I've taken mad breaks in the last year or so (gotta preserve my sanity a li'l) from actively contributing anything to WDC, but I'm back for at least the next thirty days...mainly because Charlie ~ convinced me to do the "Invalid Item. So y'all are stuck with me. Here's to thirty days and maybe hopefully at least another 14 more years and then some.


"C'mon, put my picture on the wall for all to see."
Lyrics.  


For the blog.


*Quill* And it ain't like I've been takin' time off to rest my pretty little broken noggin, nuh-uh. I started posting up more old "poetry" to complete another notebook, "Ribmeat Of The Family Tree. If I remember correctly, it falls in between the two other notebooks I've already posted ("Slurred Emotions and "Cabin Fever), and there's some decent items in there...like "Everybody knows; you always start with scissors.. So far most of what I posted came from about ten years ago, so I almost feel like putting this out in full is like a 10th Anniversary Tour of the Ribmeat. I know at one point in time a lot of these items were in my port, which is part of why I'm doing this now. It's also, like I said, a bridge. I get amazed once in awhile just by the sheer amount of stuff I've written over the years...and I'm still in a state of near-disbelief that for 14 years WDC has been a huge part of my life. I may not do a lot actively, but I'm here, and I'm kinda sorta relevant, and that means so much more to me than I can even describe. Again, thank you WDC, The StoryMaster and The StoryMistress , and thank you all who've been a part of my journey here. *Heart* x lots and lots.

Flavor Flav.


*Babyboy* You know what provides laughter? Kids. And I can say that unfailingly to myself because I don't have any. But a lot of you who read this do, and some of you will smile along with the hilarious tweets parents write   about their kids. Almost makes me wanna be a parent. Almost. Any applicants out there that wanna make me a dad of their forevers?

This is why I don't have kids.


*Grave* And for laughter's (and for fuck's) sake already, these people should be dead  . No really...no good could possibly come of any of that. But somehow I think they've all survived, and have kickass stories to tell. Who am I to judge?

*Shovel* And finally, do you know what Charlie ~ , Cinn , and Elle - on hiatus have in common? I'll give you a minute...if you need it. *drums fingers annoyingly* Alright...time's up! It's "Dirty Poetry - CLOSED. Fuckin' check it out...stick a needle in your arm, smoke a J, curse like a god damn sailor fiendin'...if you can't find your words right for most poetry contests and/or expositions, this is where you need to be. Drop your gritty, low-down, stank-ass real life shit up in that forum. Because you're welcome there. Who appreciates you? They appreciate you. Word.

So alright...I've done cleared out this one-of-thirty thing (my mental note, not yours). Mega huge thanks so far for all the love pointed at me for today...time for me to catch up and give some thanks, because writing this stuff kinda wears me out. Y'all the best a li'l blog guy with stupid silly poems in his pocket could ever, forever ever, could ask for. Peace, don't let it touch the ground, and GOODNIGHT NOW!!

June 26, 2015 at 6:56pm
June 26, 2015 at 6:56pm
#852562
Banner or header for 30DBC


*Clef* "What song makes you think of a particularly fond memory? Bonus Prompt: What is your favorite misheard or misunderstood song lyric? When you hear it now when you're with your friends do you purposely sing it the wrong way just for the fun of it?"

Hey folks! It's Friday, and there's a lot to talk about, so let's celebrate!

Dave Chappelle.


Before I get started though, I'mma lead off with a confession and a half-hearted apology. I had a few weeks to prepare for this particular week of prompts in the "30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS...but I tend to procrastinate, so as usual one of the last things I've done before I shut the lights off at night is try to come up with the prompts for the Music roundtables. And I hate coming up with prompts blah blah blah and I hate writing entries for my own prompts blah blah blah broken record blah blah blah...which is why I sent out two prompts last night. After struggling to come up with four halfway decent ones this week, I was on fumes last night and was just like "Fuck it, here's a prompt that's been used a gang of times already in one form or another, and I'm sick of this even though I'll be doing it again next week for a whole 'nother month." And of course as soon as I hit "send" and got comfortable, a more interesting prompt passed through my head full of notions. So, uhhh, like, sorry, and stuff, for double-prompting your inboxes. But hey, I like choices, and I'm sure you do too, so it's all good. Now on to my response(s)...

I, like probably a lot of you, have many songs that trigger different memories. Some good, some bad...but that's what music does to us. It doesn't cherrypick the moods it wishes to soundtrack for us.

For me, the song that first popped into my head was "Tarantulove"   by Hawksley Workman   (who, I'll say for the umpteenth time if you've been reading my opinions on various things, is the only man I would ever designate with the title of "Sexiest Man Ever").

Every single time I hear this I'm taken back to the scene where I first experienced Hawksley...downtown Buffalo, before the waterfront opened up (finally) and became the go-to party spot, the "Thursday At The Square" free concert series was the place to be. Sometimes they'd pull in some solid national acts, and sometimes the lineup would lean more toward regional favorites...in my opinion, the crowds paralleled this trend in that some people showed up because it was free live music in Niagara Square, while others just came for the atmosphere of drinking socially outdoors and I wish that stupid band would keep it down 'cuz I can barely hear you, ugh! *Rolleyes* Anyway...

So I headed down to The Square with my sister...Gord Downie from The Tragically Hip was headlining, and I'm a Hip fan so of course I wanted to go, and my sis was all "Whoo-hoo! Goin' to The Square! I don't even know who that guy is!" or somethin' like that. We were walkin' around, people watching and checkin' out the merch as the opener started his set. Whatever; neither of us had heard of him and we had plenty of distractions.

But the music was interesting...it was like a mash-up of Broadway show tunes and bubblegum pop with guitar noises that would've been out of place in almost any other song, and when I looked up to take notice the singer was doing this long-striding, almost lurching, sneak-up-on-you walk while his guitar gurgled and where he'd sorta end each forward step on his tippy-toe before taking another. It was like five thousand people suddenly had access to a penny peep show, and every time you turned the crank to advance the film the six-string would just sound naughtier and you'd be even more seduced by his charms, until it was over and your ears wanted a celebratory cigarette to commemorate the best sex they'd ever heard.

That's how I want to feel when I hear a new band or artist. I don't want to just be pleasantly surprised; I want to feel gratified like the night the geek like me lost his virginity to the Catholic school cheerleader he had no business being with. I don't want "Cool, I'll have to check more of this out later". I don't ever want it to end, and I want to learn more and hear more and let the entire experience interact with all my senses. There aren't a lot of singers who do that anymore...Hawksley Workman connects with the romantic in me, and the intellect, and the hipster, and all the other little pieces of me I don't often recognize. And it all started with one song.

BCOF Insignia


*Quill* "Writer Steve Cox says, 'Writing is like folding bed sheets or table linens; it can be done by yourself but it is much easier if somebody helps you.' Do you agree or disagree? Do you depend on others to help you with your writing? Or do you only show your work when it is done?"

Normally I'm not one to disagree when someone who is much more accomplished than me has something to say about how the art of writing should be gone about...and even though I've not heard of Steve Cox, I'm assuming he's credible because someone thought enough of him to consider that his words could be quotable (and no, I'm not gonna Google him...I trust you, House Florent is ready ). But however great this Cox cat might be, I'm willing to bet I'm more WDC-famous than he is, and because I know the password to get into and edit this ol' blog o'mine, I'm gonna have to go ahead and respectfully disagree with him.

See, for me it's pretty simple. I'm not a professional, and I don't get paid a lump sum every time I get the Your blog has exceeded the maximum storage limit error message telling me I've filled up another digital reservoir with kilobytes and megabytes of randomness and babbling. That means, for all intents and purposes, I'm just an amateur...a hobbyist. I'm doing this (as I've probably said a hundred times before- no exaggeration) for my own enjoyment first, and then maybe, hopefully, yours. It's not a team sport or anything like that, so I don't look for outside help...even if I were aiming for something higher or better or whatever.

I could get down with what he's saying if this were bowling, and there was some kind of technical flaw in my approach that you noticed in warm-ups, where you could suggest an improvement before a big-money tournament. But no...I'm a novice, and maybe this entry will get 20 or 25 views, 30 if I'm really lucky, and I don't think anyone's gonna show up in front of my building with a contract hoping to publish my stupid blog with the conditions that I don't call it stupid and I don't swear and I'd maybe stop substituting the letter "g" for an apostrophe every so often with words ending in "-ing". I'm not holding on to any delusions about what I do when I'm here, and I'm not ceding creative control over my work anytime soon. So there you go, Mr. Cox, if that's even your real name. I'm guessing it's not though, and that makes me not like you just a little more, were I to have an actual opinion about you, my man.

Plus, folding a fitted bedsheet sucks absolute balls whether you're doing it by yourself, or with a helper buddy, or with four other people. As an old WDC friend who is no longer active here once said, and I paraphrase, "That [folding a fitted sheet] makes you like some kind of unicorn, doesn't it?"

Blog City image small


*Hammer* "Ted Kooser commented in his book The Poetry Home Repair Book 'Readers of contemporary poems are attracted because the personal pronoun I is preeminent. The reason for this is people are really attracted to confessional poetry with the poet baring his soul than they are about poems that do not discuss hardships/life situations of some kind.' Do you agree or disagree with Kooser? Do you know a contemporary poem that is not confessional? Please share it with us."

I'm gonna say a lot of things in the next couple paragraphs that maybe for someone who writes often enough like me might sound pretty bad in this particular context. I'll start with Ted Kooser himself...another writer I'm not really familiar with and don't quite feel like looking up, although his name at least kinda rings a bell. I feel like I should know who a lot of these authors are, especially since I spent a couple years working in a freakin' bookstore of all places.

And on top of that, I probably couldn't name a contemporary poet or three if you paid me. And I like poetry. I like it more than mystery or sci-fi or chick lit. But my frame of reference ends right around the time of the Beat Generation. So I'm a bad person to ask about this, but because I'm also an American, I'm not afraid to open my mouth and tell you just how much I really don't know.

Here's my opinion on contemporary poetry versus, say, I don't know what else to call it, and "non-contemporary" just sounds too obvious, so let's go with "boring-ass traditional poetry force-fed to us and hailed as literary gospel in high school, when we really mostly didn't give a shit": if we're going by Kooser's metrics here regarding the usage of the pronoun "I" as an "appeal factor" to current generations, he's a bloomin' idiot. Dude, lots of poems throughout history contain "I" and are of a confessional approach. "How do I love thee? Let me count the ways...". Yo homes...that's about as "I" and straight-up fessin' as it gets. And furthermore, going back into the annals of history, instead of using "I" our forefathers tried to be slick and start off all biblical with shit like "Thou". "Thou shall not kill". "Thine heart is barren in your absentia." "Thy shan't front on thouest of thats." Tryin' to come off proper, like we didn't defeat the British in the Revolutionary War or whatever. #Murica

Now, like I said before, I'm not very familiar with contemporary poems or poets...or at least as much as I should be. I mentioned Hawksley Workman in an earlier segment of this entry, and I think everyone should own a copy of Hawksley Burns For Isadora   even if maybe it doesn't really count as poetry. And I'm sure he's probably not the ideal cup of tea for a lot of people who will come across this entry, but Saul Williams is one of the greatest writers (for my money) living today, and I don't consider a lot of The Dead Emcee Scrolls   to be considered "confessional"...at least not in the same vein as other artists he might be categorized with.

But I'm not altogether sure of what even my own frame of reference might be on this subject. I've probably written over a thousand poems easily over the last twenty-some years, and they can't all be confessional, right? So let's assume that I'm "contemporary" (with or without quotation marks; reader's choice) in that I don't adhere to traditional forms or methods or templates or what have you, and I've created works within the last few decades. In my head I don't think an item like "20 Minutes From Nowhere (shameless self-promotion) sounds any bit confessional, both in obvious terms and in ways seeking hidden validations. It's just creative writing, kinda like a poem and kinda not, and it says something that's personal yet not revealing; it's non-intrusive and it doesn't scratch my surface or dig into my ephemera. You'd have to really be trying if you wanted to learn more about me through those few lines.

Now, what was the point of all this? Uhhh, naw Kooser...sometimes you need to hush up when us younger folks are talkin'. Just because you've got a different level of fame than us doesn't mean you're the omnipotent truth-sayer of the written word in this day and age. Grab a seat on the bench next to ol' Stevie Cox *Up*, my man...witness how we evolutionize, modernize, and revolutionize the game. Thou musteth putteth that in thee pipe and smoketh it.

Blog divider.


Musical Poetry break! My first experience with Saul Williams came as a part-time bookseller at a then-Waldenbooks...I wasn't a heavy reader but as I made my way throughout the store, , Said The Shotgun To The Head   (yes, I consider the title to actually start with a comma) always managed to catch my eye. Maybe it's because our store's "Literature" section (where the poetry was hidden kept) was about two feet wide by five feet high, and the book was oddly square-shaped and smaller than a trade paperback in height but wider than a mass-market paperback, with a shocking maroonish/purpley-red cover, and the back of it sucked in anyone who put hands on it with a short but powerful message:

The greatest Americans
Have not been born yet
They are waiting quietly
For their past to die
please give blood


The inside, upon just a flippant flipping through, looked more like a graphic novel or a Manga read minus the intricate illustrations. It wasn't published so much as it was designed; it was intentionally meant to be distributed as something that would grab you, pull you in with the urgency of a timebomb ticking, and when it reached its explosion point it stung immediately like the rush of a first kiss...but you knew just by the amount of pages left there was plenty more to come. You enter a very personal, very unique relationship when you start reading this book. It is intense; it's a journey...into love, into self.



For the blog.


*Vinyly* I'll admit it...I'm a music snob, and I judge you based on your tastes in music. I'm not ashamed to say that I associate particular genres with feelings or stereotypes...well, not all the time, ok, but some of the time. And some of the music you might like that I don't is pretty predictable *cough**cough* country *cough*. Don't believe me? I have a chart   that can prove it.

*Thinker* Well, I'm no doctor baby...but most of these analyses   are spot on, like #18 and #24. And #22...that might explain me better than perhaps I can.

*Speaker* Bonus Prompt Time! Misheard lyrics...that's always a fun game! Nothing cuter than a little kid messin' up the lines to a popular song (except maybe a little kid jammin' out to a song and singin' suggestive lyrics that are too over his or her head, with feeling no less). Like, I don't know why I remember this, but in first grade on the busride home from school I recall singing "Centerfold" by The J. Geils Band   and I didn't even know that it was basically a reference to porn, nor did I really comprehend what a "homeroom angel" was...it just felt fist-pumpingly anthemic, so for a little while that was my jam.

Me, age five or six.
Back in the day, when my blood ran cold
and my memory had just been sold.


*Tower* Because it's Music Week in the "30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS, and because I was too lazy and unmotivated to actually write all week, I'm dumping my excess links now...because why the hell not? I don't remember how or why I came across this, but I know it was recent enough that I had saved it specifically for this week and it had something to do with Russia...they once considered these bands "dangerous"   and a threat to Communism. *Laugh* Ahhh, wasn't the Cold War good times? My favorite is the fear of Iron Maiden over "religious obscuritanism"...like, what does that even mean?? I mean, I know what they're trying to say and all, but man, how some things just get so lost in translation, I guess. And it was all fun and games until I remembered that after 9/11, corporate radio behemoth Clear Channel decided we'd all be safer as a nation if we didn't listen to certain songs  ...tunes like "America" by Neil Diamond and "Daniel" by Elton John, and everything by Rage Against The Machine. Yet somehow we still couldn't be saved from the Backstreet Boys, Nickelback, or MTV's TRL  , which once led me to very publicly exclaim "Carson Daly needs to step in front of my car after I've redefined Happy Hour." No joke...and that era was almost comparable to the Cold War, now that I think about it. And I don't even know if I'm being sarcastic anymore. *Confused*

*Rainbowl* And finally, #lovewins. Yay America! And yay for all my LGBT friends, who have finally won the right to be married legally via the Supreme Court! Granted, I don't think the struggle is near the end- far from it, as the court of public opinion usually is the toughest and takes the longest to win over- but this is a monumental step toward equal rights and fair treatment for everyone, regardless of who you wanna spend your life with. It's a great, great day in our history...all week, as a matter of fact, but I won't bring up all the Confederate Flag bullshit because it should've been a dead issue once the North won the Civil War, relegating the darkest known racial/racist period of our country to a museum's attic, but I don't wanna ruin a triumphant day with my hatred of what should only have always remained an artifact. I will share this with you though, because it's funny...leave it to that bastion of "fair and balanced" wonder of journalism, FOX News, to go full moron, asking if "three people can marriage"   (and no, that's not a typo...I'm pretty sure if you listen carefully the anchor uses the word "marriage" either like it's some kind of hybrid verb/noun, or she's a caveman and hasn't discovered yet how to actually speak in full sentences). Only FOX would publicly say something so blatantly dumb and put that thought in the heads of otherwise (I'm sure) really nice people who just happen to take them seriously. Some preacher down in Texas who isn't fixin' to set hisself on fire (which, by the way, off-topic and all but whatever, I think that would be considered suicide, and I'm pretty sure the Bible says you'll go to Hell for that, but what do I know...I haven't prayed in probably 25 years or more) is probably already spreading the fear of threesome marriages and legal, sanctioned orgies among his congregation, while the Utah Latter-Day Saints are preparing for their Million Married March to Washington in support of polygamous marital unions...wonder what color car bumper magnet ribbons they'll choose for that. Nothin' like the Good Ol' Partyboys blusterin' about another holy war they'd love to start over somethin' they don't like, can't profit from, and didn't think of first. Yay #Murica, indeed...way to take the shine off of something so important to so many citizens. And if we don't happen to agree, that's ok with me  . Respect...hashtag that, y'all.

Ok, well, it appears my work here is done. Thanks, if you participated at all in any of our 30DBC mini-challenge roundtable discussions, and thanks especially to Brother Nature , ElaineElaine , and Prosperous Snow Valentine for hosting their respective weeks. Something something witty, something something tryna be funny, something something should do this more often, witty witty something. Peace, here's what I'm prescribin' babe, and GOODNIGHT NOW!!

June 22, 2015 at 5:22pm
June 22, 2015 at 5:22pm
#852211
The WDC Soundtrackers.


*Clef* "Does music influence your writing at all? Can a particular artist, band, or genre shift the direction your blog entry is going in?"

What's up you guys? Might as well start this now and get this out of the way, because history has proven that if I don't by a convenient hour I'll get lazy and lose the will to actually write a halfway decent blog entry. So here we are...welcome to the final week of the "30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS's 5-day mini-challenges! This week's roundtable discussion topic is Music, and I'm the host, which means if I wish to participate then I'll have to write for my own prompts (which you know is among some of my least-favorite things to do, but I suppose I'll get over that). And that's cool, because I like music (and not just on a first grade level, which is what this sentence kinda sounds like). Let's count it off and see what happens...1, 2, 3, 4...

Me, age five or six.
He knows all of your first grade sentences,
and some of your second grade ones too.


Does music influence or affect my blogging? Yes and no. I'll start with the "no" part because that's the easy one to explain.

When it comes time to actually sit down and begin typing, I prefer nae, need silence. The thoughts and noises in my head can't compete with people talking or a tv blaring or a device pumpin' beats, because I'm not very organized and they interrupt my stream of consciousness. *Facepalm* And then what I write sounds even choppier and more all-over-the-place than usual. I don't even like switching tabs in my browser, because that's interrupting...and it's possible that right now I've probably got fifty tabs open, with maybe ten pertaining to this entry alone. Sure, I could use a little bit of order, but that's disruptive to me if it distracts from my train of thought. I think. *Confused*

But about the "yes"...see, here's part of my writing process. While I'm laying in bed at night before I go to sleep, I usually catch the next day's prompts. I arrange tabs in the order I want to use them, including any pertinent links I might want to make part of my entry. I try to find an appropriate song, the lyrics, and cue that up...that way I'm ready for whenever I want to start this whole thing. The trouble is, *Facepalm* I've forgotten most of this by the following afternoon and need to reread everything I've situated the night before. I'm the hot mess of writing processes.

On top of that, if there's a day like today where I've had to go anywhere that has necessitated me breaking out the iPod, there's a chance that I'll hear a song that better suits a prompt or my mood...which leads me scrambling to reorganize from the previous skeletal sketch I laid out, or basically starting over from scratch. But who cares...I generally need something to do between the time I take my sleeping pills and when I actually fall asleep, so this chaos sorta works for me.

And some days, the head start I give myself is perfect. My thoughts align, my mood fits the prompts, and everything's great. But the last few times I thought I might crank out an entry, I've really wound up completely unmotivated. I've had a lot on my mind, I had the slight touch of a stomach bug (which could be related to weaning myself off of medication, or my body rejecting vegetables in an attempt to eat better), and my state of mind has been generally a shit mix of anger, frustration, and...I don't even know what else. So naturally, when I've played music, it's been in that vein. And now that I've actually gotten up the wherewithal to write, because of where my head's at, this entry will take on some of those characteristics. Moody, depressive, etc. Conversely, if I were in some mythical happy place, I'd probably be more interested in the peppy, poppy music in my collection, and that would radiate here as a byproduct of whatever that feels like.

And I think I just took a very long, convoluted way around of saying "Yes, music does in fact influence my blog entries, even though you may not see it...it's there, and I know it, so bugger off and leave me the frig alone."

BCOF Insignia


*Target* "'Start by doing what's necessary; then do what's possible; and suddenly you are doing the impossible.' -Francis of Assisi. What do you think? Is this statement true?"

I'll tell you what...if you believe this and you live by it and it works for you, I won't argue with you about it. The concept sounds legit; newspapers, magazines, and the internet are routinely filled weekly with human-interest stories of people who overcome seemingly insurmountable things, and most of them are believable I guess. Meanwhile, on a more personal level, I have problems of a different magnitude. Lateral issues? Maybe, or maybe it's not for me to decide...but if I don't start figuring some shit out soon, I might never achieve the seemingly impossible things in life.

Those hard decisions you have to make, compared to what others your age are going through.


The gravity of the situations we're faced with that we categorize as "possible" or "impossible" may vary, but the pain behind the thought process is similar. We have to decide, and then act on that decision, and adjust so we can live with the results. Oh, and a lot of us can do that in a fairly reasonable period of time. I wouldn't dare say this is a strength of mine; far from it actually but sure, some have it worse. The real truth is that everything's quantifiable in some way, and everyones' systems of measurement are vastly different. There isn't a way to accurately calibrate them, or drain them down into common denominators...we're just too unalike for simplicity. And maybe that's a complicated way of saying we're complicated creatures with complicated habits and methods, but (and I'll use this line any chance I get and I love it) one man's ceiling is another man's floor...what's possible to many is fallacy to some, and your weaknesses could be my strengths and vice/versa. Maybe that's why the majority of the population can fit together so well...the ability to rely on others to fill in our cracks.

Blog City image small


*Thought* "Do you think dreams sometimes can tell people what they have repressed? Did you ever have such a dream that made you go, 'Aha!'?"

Well, we (my therapist, doctor and I) established that I'm a represser, an avoider, and a conflict runner-away-frommer (I'm pretty sure those are all highly scientific terms, but I haven't cross-referenced them in the DSM-5   yet). And on top of that, I've only begun recollecting my dreams recently, like in the last five years or so...or at least more than usual. And that bothers the ever-lovin' outta me.

I guess I dream deeply, or somethin'. And mostly what I dream involves heavily the elements of my past, combining different eras of my life in one giant awkward nocturnal motion picture of sadness, bad decisions, and regret...all of which is not a fun way to start off the day, especially when you can't seem to shake the feelings or images for awhile.

I could go into detail, but I can already tell this entry's gonna run a lot longer than I intended for it to in the first place (they always do, try as hard as I want to that they don't), and in order for them to sorta make sense they'd require more room and detail than I'd want to give them here. I know, that's no fun for all you armchair psychiatrists out there...but my insurance doesn't cover y'all'es co-pays.

But yeah, my dreams pretty much tell me what I already know...that there have been a lot of times that I've been a complete shithead to certain people. It's almost not fair; my dreams never seem to remind me of the good things I've done for people, or take in to account that I mean well or have been at least likeable enough at times to lead to the bad decisions of others that I've had a hand in. I'm not asking for much; I just wanna wake up some mornings with more smiles than regrets. Is that so hard, oh great and powerful sleep thing that I can only control pharmaceutically?

Blog divider.


So I'm laying in bad last night, already medicated and breaking my personal rule of not having conversations with anyone while in that crossing-over state by having conversations with multiple people (see what I said in the first part of this entry about distractions), and at the same time I'm jammin' to "Impossible" by the Wu-Tang Clan   because I think that might go with one of the prompts for today (but then I decided against it this morning, even though Ghostface Killah's verse at the end is so so great from the heart). And the reason I choose most of the time to shut everyone else down late at night is because I can become vulnerable- to myself, to others- and then I either get myself in trouble or start talking actual nonsensical Ambien shit. But anyway, I was doing six things at once, and most of them have turned out this afternoon to be either irrelevant or more cause for unnecessary worry (as per usual). And what happens today, on my way back from printing up some stuff I'll need for an appointment next month, is I hear this song, which means virtually nothing to this entry, but puts me in a place to better sum up how I've been feeling lately with an inconspicuous bow that only I can see and appreciate. Now if I can just learn to not make big deals of things and have brawls with myself and others in my head, I'll be on my way to maybe being a better person.


"I kissed your lips and I tasted blood.
I asked you what happened and you said there'd been a fight.
You said 'I've been fighting for your honor but you wouldn't understand.'"
Lyrics.  


For the blog.


*Smartphone* I don't have a phone that lets me do all sortsa fancy emoji crap so this really doesn't do anything for me, but apparently you're getting a hockey emoji   eventually. What this information does do for me, however, is make me proud that well over a year ago I pestered the people who run a certain website dedicated to the craft of putting words together into sentences and paragraphs for internet perusal (who shall also remain nameless because I bothered them enough at the time and felt like a huge douchebag for doing so) into creating a hockey emoticon for use within the parameters of their information superhighway on-ramp and rest area. With the help of my pals Brother Nature and House Florent is ready , we raised some charity funds for RAOK and for our efforts received not one, but four excellent hockey emoticons that you all can use too. The WDC community was way ahead of the Apple nation on this very important and monumental issue, and no one can take that away from us.

*Hockeyskate* Speaking of hockey, one of the underrated gems of the internet- and specifically Twitter- is the creation of accounts for inanimate objects. One of my recent favorites has been the @LordStanley feed  , which supposedly has followed the feelings of the greatest trophy cup in all the world's history of championships. In a world increasingly full of detestable detestables, it's a beacon of joy reading about what the cup has thought of the 2014-15 NHL season.

*Coffeegr* I have to share this new place on WDC, "Invalid Item, headed up by Fran 💜 💜 💜 . It's a unique idea that I haven't quite seen before here, and I suggest you all check it out because it looks interesting and has the potential to promote a lot more critical thinking than I'm used to experiencing (and no, that's not a shot at anyone...it's just that I think an idea like Fran's coffee shop is sort of a general evolutionary step in blogging: it adds a collaborative element of ideas, which serves to enrich everyone involved). It's a positive thing y'all.

*Bookopen* And finally, I'm always down for finding out about things I'm familiar with, but sometimes unsure of what they're called (and I also like weird words that take the place of whatever we call stuff when we're not sure of what they actually are). Here's a cute list   of exactly those types of words. I always just called bacon "bacon"...but why not impress your friends and call it something more like what it really is? That's nourishment for the belly, and the brain! Plus, it beats the alternative  .

Ugh...didn't I say something about this being long? Someday I'll figure out why I do this to myself and subject your endurance to all of this. But today is not that day. I've got my own soul to deal with before I start considering yours or anyone else's. Peace, a pizzatarian, and GOODNIGHT NOW!!

June 17, 2015 at 4:49pm
June 17, 2015 at 4:49pm
#851838
Banner or header for 30DBC


*Quill* "When you read a poem do you prefer to read it aloud or silently? Why or why not?"

Good afternoon folks! It's Wednesday (I think), which means it's the third day of the "30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS mini-challenge roundtables...this week we're focusing on poetry, which I kinda have some experience with. We've got some ironically situated prompts in the other groups I participate in as well, so dive in with me and let's have at this!

When I read a poem, I prefer to read it silently in my head. As an added bonus, if I don't know what the author sounds like, I try to imagine it in his or her voice, to add to the authenticity factor of the words and meaning. Why? Because I know what my own voice sounds like, and I hate it. It's not appealing sonically. It sounds nasally, like your prototypical nerd. Don't believe me? Check out "This one's about the video., an entry that solely consists of a video featuring me rambling. I'm not a gifted public speaker. Or a private one.

Unless we're listening to music, I prefer quiet and not disturbing others while bathing in my solitude. Check that...occasionally I do enjoy disturbing others, but not when I'm reading. I think that it's a personal exercise, meant to forage a bond between yourself and the writer. Get lost in the experience. Reading out loud just adds another level of distraction...especially when your mouth misforms the words you're seeing, and then you have to back up a line or two and redirect your concentration. I guess maybe there's an advantage then to being blind in that you can only read using braille, unless you also have dyslexia of the fingertips, which I'm pretty sure has to be a pain in the ass. Or the hand.

And if it wasn't clear before, I'm pretty sure I'm going to Hell because of this entry. Proceeding...

I've seen reviews where one of the pieces of advice mentioned is "Read this again, out loud to yourself". And I'd say a lot of people think that's a solid idea, and have done it, and maybe have seen the light that they suck at life and should not ever write poetry again could allow them to hear where they might've gone wrong structurally. But when I see that someone has suggested out loud, to yourself, my mind breaks...because I consider the two concepts separately to be exclusive. I take "to yourself" to mean "quietly", while "out loud" means "so others can hear"...it's like an intricate video game move that's both positive and negative that's also essential in a way, but instead of it being awesome the AI doesn't know how to react so the whole system freezes, causing you to restart the scene and making you lose your progress. Or sneezing with your eyes open...it's impossible, and if it were to actually happen you'd probably just shoot your eyeballs across the room. Sounds like a sweet party trick, but I'm guessing that's a shitty inconvenience down the road.

But hey, do whatever makes you happy and works for your particular method of enjoying poetry. The world needs more people who can appreciate the written (and sometimes, spoken) word. If you write it, we're all in this together...just try not to disturb me when I'm trying to be left alone and the sound of your voice winds up hitting me like a spitball to the back of my neck. Y'all been warned.

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*Glassesp* "If Helen Keller would have lived in today's world, how would her life have been different in our advanced world? Remember Helen was blind and deaf."

Yup, I'm definitely familiar with Helen Keller...but if you're not here's her Wikipedia bio  . She got by, yo...and then she got over. Boy, did she get over. They don't make biopics about just anyone, ya heard?

But what troubles me now about her is that most of the opportunities afforded in this day and age to someone in her situation are a direct result of her advocacy. For example, some genius developed peanut butter. I love peanut butter. But if the inventor of such a treat hadn't discovered it, what would be the purpose of my affection for strawberry preserves? Sure, maybe someone else would've eventually come along and mashed up peanuts in a delectable fashion, but would it be the same? We're talkin' about several feet in your local grocery store! How different would the world be?

And it's no different with Helen. She'd go to the same school as the rest of us, integrated with classmates who have functional eyes and ears. She'd get some accommodations, but she'd be groomed to fit in because someone else came up after her and developed techniques to cope with her specific disabilities. It might not be the same as what she pioneered, but humans can be pretty smart and resourceful at times, so I'm sure she'd be just fine. She'd get over the initial mind-blow of the internet that was fitted for her consumption, and eventually she'd learn that the comment boards on most websites are toxic wastelands for a-holes to dump their twisted, self-serving logic while she carved out her own place in the world and honed her sarcasm.

Also, she was kinda a looker, if ya know what I'm sayin'...she'd be all up on Tinder, tryin' to catch a hookup, and instead of the tasteless "How do you confuse Helen Keller? Rearrange the furniture." jokes etc., she'd be all like "I swiped left, because I can't see myself going anywhere with you."

Yup...definitely goin' to Hell. Or as my more Christian-rooted people have called it, H-E-double *Hockey*.

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*Duck* "Write about swimming."

Swimming, huh. Is there any greater suburban status symbol than having your own pool? I hate swimming. It's a marriage of inconveniences.

Humans hate being hot (temperature-wise) and uncomfortable. I'll go as far as saying that a lot of times, most of us hate being wet (beyond our expectations and control) as well. Yet a favorite pastime for the bulk of an otherwise docile society is jumping in a pool of water with the intention of cooling off. Why?

I live in a room above a bar, and it gets super ridiculously hot in here...especially in the afternoons, when the sun crashes down on my window like "Fuck your happiness, human...I'mma make you feel my wrath so deep you have no choice but to marinate in your own sweat!" A total killjoy, especially for someone like me who loves a beautiful sunny day. I finally bought a fan the other day (thanks to the magic of CVS "Extra Rewards" coupons), and now life in the afternoon is more tolerable. I don't even have to worry about losing a finger in it if I wake up in the middle of the night and want to shut it off...yes, that's what my adulthood has been boiled down to. A safe air circulator.

But swimming? Fuck that, man. I could come up with at least twenty ways I'd rather enjoy myself in situations that don't employ my OCD (I can't stand two things in everyday living...if I happen to get one hand wet, I need to get the other wet as well; if one shoe becomes untied in the rare circumstance that I'm wearing tieable shoes, I have to retie them both). Swimming, in a pool, or a lake, or in my own insanity, just isn't palatable. I'm not a germophobe, and I know most properly-upkept pools are decent places to hang out and enjoy life, but naw homes...I'll chill in the sun some other way. Maybe a sprinkler or a garden hose with a fancy nozzle, but wading and immersion are two things I can definitely say I'm not sinning for lacking.

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All I can say is this man deserves to be thought of as a giant in contemporary poetry. If you can get your hands on a copy of Coke Machine Glow  , you definitely should jump on the chance. Influential, amazing, brilliant, bright, desolate, compact, and above all, it makes me wish sometimes I could be as cooly Canadian as he is for his wit, determination, and artistic ability. I know that's a lot of adjectives, but Gord throughout his esteemed career has been nothing short of a legendary human being who simply cannot suck.


"As long as the road lacks perspective...
As long as we swim, swim, swim...
As long as we hold hands in the swiftness..."
Lyrics.  


For the blog.


*Bookopen* Last week I posted a few links regarding punctuation that I thought were useful and/or funny (ok, mostly funny, and any chance I get to say "interrobang" will of course be utilized)...but today I want to focus on words, and more specifically, how we say them. Hey, if you can talk then I guess there ain't no bad way to say some words, and we all have different dialects we occasionally see ourselves reaching from (I tend to over-annunciate words like "car" and "far", because I once worked with Long Islanders and NYC/NJ natives while seeing a couple of girls who had the stereotypical New Yawk inflection). But for those who don't judge based on accents, here's what your pronunciation can say about you  .

*Partyhatg* I don't do enough promoting of on-site WDC things, for a few reasons, but this is something I can get behind: "Invalid Item. I'm not crazy into WDC MB's...I don't need the validation, but last night it occurred to me that I actually own an exclusive merit badge commissioned by House Florent is ready , and with her blessing I donated one to Elle - on hiatus 's fundraiser (good causes, my friends...drop some gift points and set yourself up for a chance at MB's you'd otherwise have to do a lot of work for, if you're into that kind of thing). The Blog Camping badge is normally only available in August, and not very many people have one. I'm honored to be able to contribute one to a lucky winner, and maybe we'll get some awesome participants in this year's blog trip...last year was a riot with great people, and Lyn is already working on making 2015's trip even more incredible. Can't wait!

*Tv* "Senior pranks" are an almost legendary part of the growing up process, and a high school in Western New York took the idea to a memorable extreme   when they were able to get ex-Saturday Night Live cast member Bill Hader to show up. Like, seriously. And then he wondered why downtown B-Lo smells like Cheerios. Legit question, celeb in his first tour of the Queen City...Buffalo has a General Mills plant   that supplies the east coast with the tasteless yet nutritious breakfast (or if you're like me, a snack} delight. Get some, Hader!

And while we're on the topic of senior pranks, I think the high school for a community I lived in for a long time did a fantastic job...

Depew High School 2015 senior prank.


*Boxcheck* And finally...I consider myself at times to be a fairly smart person, but I was put in my righteous place the other day when I took the Washington Times' Jeopardy test  ...I got smoked, and it was multiple choice! I started off strong, but eventually wound up getting 12 out of 24 right. 50%. Not a good look. If you take it, let me know how much smarter than me you are...I'd love to hear it. *Rolleyes*

Meanwhile, I finished this entry and am now looking at escaping the internet in favor of a humble nap in the now-cooler environment blessed by a fan I won't unfinger myself with in a medicated sleep haze. Use this entry responsibly. Peace, cake-drunk in the middle, and GOODNIGHT NOW!!

June 16, 2015 at 4:30pm
June 16, 2015 at 4:30pm
#851763
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*Quill* "Prose poetry, which is written in paragraphs, focuses on images. This type of poem contains all the literary devices, tools, and techniques that a verse poem contain. Examples of this type of prose poems can be found in journals and even in some blogs. Some of the hallmarks of a prose poem are descriptive language, instances of poetic meter and rhyme within the paragraph. Other literary devices that are found in prose poems are plays on language or words, repetition, and the use of metaphor or simile. In some prose poems a reader can feel the emotions in the same way one feels them in verse poems. Have you ever read or attempted to write a prose poem? Did you find it more difficult to understand then a verse poem? Can you give an example of a prose poem?"

What's up you guys? It's week three of the mini-challenges in the "30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS...this time around we're talkin' about poetry, and our host is the esteemed Prosperous Snow Valentine . If you're familiar at all with Neva, you know she's a prolific poetess, and she often colors in her blog entries with a verse or two...making her entries stand out above the rest in the blogging groups she's in.

When I joined WDC almost 14 years ago, blogging as we know it today wasn't even a twinkle in your keyboard's eyes. I was just looking for an online home to post some of my poetry and maybe get some feedback...today I can further accomplish that by combining the two genres and perhaps gain some cross-acceptance; if you like my blog, maybe you'll be interested in what else I write, and vice/versa. But I'll admit that I don't use one form within the other nearly as much as I should.

Today's topic is prose poetry, which sounds easy but can be slightly more complicated if you're not careful. Personally, my favorite form of writing is more of a free-verse, which lacks a format and is something I used to often mistake as prose because I didn't know any better. I'm not married to meter and rhyme schemes, because I pretty much don't have the patience for counting when I write or revising afterwards. My brain often works too fast for my fingers, and I don't like interrupting the flow of my thoughts by having to substitute words of lesser meaning or value just to fit them in a particular pattern. Maybe that turns some purists off, but it suits me just fine...it's modern, a bit edgier, and if it attracts someone else who might not normally be into poetry because all they're familiar with are the stuffy 19th century works they studied in high school, we should all consider that a win for what we do.

That being said, I'd love to someday be able to give myself the wherewithal to bang out a stellar prose poetry blog entry that doesn't seem contrived or sound hokey. On top of being impatient, I'm also self-conscious when I write most of the time...if it sounds too cheesy or loses focus from where I started, I'm more likely to scrap the whole thing rather than push through and see what happens. If I'm wasting too much time coming up with the perfect fit, I find I'm liable to lose the train of thought I had going forward...and therefore the whole piece suffers.

I have tried to write a few prose poetry pieces, with minimal success. I think one of the few items worth considering in my port regarding this might be "It's Not It, which is more like a song and uses effects like sampling (or borrowing) in the breaks. It's definitely not one of my favorite writes and I don't expect anyone to like it (mainly because I'm not a fan of it, for the reasons I listed above as to why I don't often write in this style). Certainly it's not A Supermarket In California  , but I'm not Allen Ginsberg myself either.

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*Clouds* "Around the world, there have been interesting weather issues lately. What kind of weather frightens or annoys you the most? What do you do to be safe during the weather?"

If I had my way, I wouldn't talk about weather at all. It just happens, and gloating or bitching about it isn't gonna change it (although I do believe that a lot of the severe weather trends we're seeing more of in this day and age are partially a result of man-related negligence past and present, but save your political theory squawking for another time because none of us, I assume, are real scientists and that's not what this response is intended to promote).

If you're at all familiar with my particular brand of interned-based complaining in journal form, however, you'll note from time to time I'll voice my absolute disdain for snow and cold weather in general. Everything that comes with the territory living on the east coast between the Great Lakes and the Atlantic Ocean, during the months of October through April. Wind, sleet, hail, snow, single-digit temperatures and way-below-zero wind chills. It's not just because I suffer from Seasonal Affective Disorder (conveniently known as SAD), but because all of that mess in concert is plenty enough to wreck a man's entire constitution.

Case in point: last November, my hometown got hit with a vicious storm that dropped 90" inches of snow in some parts over two days (the area was such a mess that Buzzfeed called it "terrifying"  ). Thankfully I wasn't living there at the time; I've shoveled myself out of some crazy storms, but that has to have been the worst I can remember in my nearly 40 years, and I might've just given up and prayed for a quick death via avalanche.

Otherwise, weather doesn't frighten me...but nothing does, if I'm being honest and vulnerable. Probably because I'm awkwardly emotionally dead, and/or too stupid to take the threat of extreme weather seriously. Like, twice in the past week Cortland County (where I live now) has had tornado warnings. I understand that weather services have certain guidelines that require them to issue these threats to be more on the safe side, and in the end all that happened was a lot of rain, but I'm not one to panic in these situations because if my number's up, my number's up and no amount of preparation or resilience is gonna counter that. I've made peace with that.

And besides, I'm just as prone to heatstroke now after getting sun poisoning so severe once that my entire torso turned purple. No joke. It can be 30 degrees out in the middle of winter and if I'm standing in otherwise bright, sunny conditions for too long, it negatively affects me. You wanna know what I consider ideal conditions? For my money, it's a balmy, beautiful sunshower  ...warm and sunny, with a refreshing downpour that cleanses the mind and soul while rehydrating the surrounding earth with an almost resetting of the atmosphere. Gawd that sounds so hippie-ish.

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*Thought* "Which emotions fade away the most easily for you and which ones have a way of lingering?"

Good question...to know me and to know my blog is almost like knowing two separate people. Hear me through, don't interrupt, and let me do some 'splainin'.

I like to write. It makes me happy, and I can portray that in various fashions...through joy, humor, sarcasm, etc. If you perceive me to be happy, well, that's just that: your perception, based on my words. I won't put up much of a fight with that.

But personally? I'm a thinker; more specifically, a brooder. The devil's advocate. The three sides to every story. I'm a realist and a cynic. I've been seeing a therapist for over two years, and so far I've learned that I'm a represser, with an all-or-nothing mindset and determination. I have trust issues based on that, and I'm skeptical of damn near everything until I see valid, concrete proof. I can hold a decades-long grudge, especially if my convictions have deep-rooted meaning. To overturn that would require arduous mental labor on the part of someone who's on the wrong side of my internal belief system. Conversely, if you're someone or something I believe in, I'm 150% behind you and will defend you like a pit bull. When I've got your back, you don't have to question my support. It is for life, or until you cross me...and should you, good luck getting me to turn back to you on your terms. I believe firmly on being in control of myself in most situations, and when I'm not I'm likely to run, avoid, and/or act in ways to recoup anything I might have lost in myself along the journey.

Simply put...you want to be on my side, because although I don't often do it nor like to, I can tear you apart.

But please don't get that confused with the knowledge of who I am and want to be. While I can start off thinking the worst of people or situations, once I've cleaned out misconceptions I'm the easiest person to get along with. I hate confrontation (another therapy breakthrough...I'm also an avoider in many ways). I'll fight for myself for as long as I see fit that I can make a difference, but I won't waste breath or steps on trying to change the mind of someone who stubbornly refuses to see me for who I am and can be in a positive light.

And I think I might've veered a little off topic (but you'll have that with me sometimes...it's part of my package). Happiness is often fleeting...resentment lingers. I laugh when people say "Search and you shall find..." because I've found that it just isn't that simple. I've seen enough to know that I've seen too much.

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Crushed down and faded. That could describe a multitude of my experiences in life. I've had the highest of highs, and I've been through the lowest of lows...all of the hyperbolic attributes your imagination can come up with, and then some. I don't want to be in a good or bad place; if you believe in anything you know neither lasts forever and maybe the safest place is somewhere in the big middle of nowhere.


"If I get bored you'll see...me wearing out my face.
You know it isn't easy filling up that space."
Lyrics.  


For the blog.


*Castleleft* Unlike what seems like 90% of the WDC community, I'm not taking part in what's become the premier annual event around here, "Red Wedding updating , hosted by the always lovely and sometimes stressed Gaby ~ Keeper Of The Realm . I don't watch the show, I kinda don't care, and don't get offended if I don't respond to your requests for "cheers" or all the other hullabaloo associated with it...but I have a good reason, so hear me out. Along with my homies Charlie ~ and Cinn , I'm doing behind-the-scenes administrative stuff. And Gaby has been very accommodating so far with my workload. Charlie's bustin' his ass to get shit done, and Cinn Frin is doin' what she can right now...all in an effort to see this endeavor become successful. Big commendations to them. But I have to give a special shoutout to ♥Hooves♥ , for the amazing *Blush* namedrop and nice words said of yours truly when also talking about abcoachnz-Sometimes around : "It appears that his primary interest and enjoyment here is blogging. I see he is serious about it as he is friends with Fivesixer, who is one of the best, most talented and influential bloggers on the site. So, he travels in fine company there. Fivesixer is one of my favorite people here, as I've gotten to know him through "Invalid Item. He knows his way around writing very entertaining, witty and informative blog entries. These two fellows share excellent blog writing as a trait."

Double *Blush*, Hooves! Thank you so much for the kind words and endorsement! Murray's a good cat with a big heart, and I've had nothing but good interactions with him (and I hope he feels the same). Good luck to all the GoT houses...and go easy on my Gabs, 'cuz she's got her hands full right about now.

*Notepad* I feel similarly compelled to pump the tires of another contest as well, and if you're a blogger reading this you'll want to take note: "The Bard's Hall Contest, by StephBee and Ԝ€ß☆ԜiʈCH , is running a blog contest throughout June. All ya gotta do is blog consistently throughout June and b-item link your blog in their forum. That's it. Get some exposure and maybe win an awardicon or MB.

*Hockey* Now for our regularly scheduled miscellany: the Chicago Blackhawks last night won the greatest, most legendary trophy in all the world's history, Lord Stanley's Cup  . I tend to care slightly less about hockey when I'm not playing it and the Buffalo Sabres aren't involved, but I can kinda sorta get behind the Blackhawks because one of their players, Patrick Kane, honed his game on the rinks and streets of Buffalo (when he wasn't stiffin' a cabbie over a couple of dimes  ). My favorite part of any hockey playoff series between teams I have no emotional investment in is the handshake line at the end...sportsmanship at its finest core. My second favorite part? A tie between finding out about the players who toughed it out through gruesome injuries (it's a legit thing...broken legs, torn groins, etc.) and watching that veteran guy on his last legs get handed the cup first from the team captain  . It's a beautiful feeling that no other sport can match.

*Twitter* And finally, some of you know I spend a little time on Twitter (shameless plug: @fivesixer if you're so inclined to occasionally get a little humor from your day in short, 140-characters-or-less doses). Maybe you follow some celebrities, and maybe they should have a filter on what they say  . As for me, it should be known that I am a staunch supporter of women's rights (specifically, equal pay for the same positions men hold, breastfeeding in public, and the ability to play with a penis as one pleases/wishes to be pleased)...but Jane Austen and I were in a writing group once, and things did not go quite as planned for her or I.

We're not friends.


I think that's all I have for you guys today...which is more than I can say for yesterday when I felt lightheaded and ambivalent and useless. Hope you feel better, or at least respondent. Peace, it makes me think it's dirty, and GOODNIGHT NOW!!

June 12, 2015 at 8:12pm
June 12, 2015 at 8:12pm
#851504
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*Cheshire* "It's Funny Friday folks - Make it funny. Write that blog entry describing the funniest Friday you've ever experienced."

Hey everyone...welcome back to the final day of the Comedy Roundtable adventure week, as conceived as part of June's mini-challenges in the "30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS. Give a hand to the world famous Brother Nature for doing a bang-up job hosting this go-'round's festivities.

Now, as I've mentioned a few times recently, I'm a fan of many types of comedy (and of laughter in general), but I gotta admit...I think Joel might've stumped me on this prompt. Even the example   he provided us when he sent out the prompt last night isn't really doing me any favors (although it is kinda amusing because for a Wikipedia page it reads like it was written by a member of Dr. Seuss' intended audience). It's not Joel's fault for trying though...I'm just having a really hard time remembering a Friday of my own that has stood out enough for its funny qualities.

Sure, I've had lots of good times, and great times, and fun/funny times...but nothing sticks out. And I'm someone who likes to think he can find humor in practically anything. The things I can remember didn't happen on a Friday. At least I don't believe they did.

But I have a theory as to why lots of cool things could potentially happen on the day before Saturday. There are two things about Friday that I think, for a majority of adults, point to it being the background cause of chicanery: 1) it's a payday; and 2) it's the start of the weekend, so there's no school or work (apologies to everyone that neither of these instances is true for). More money and the opportunity to sleep in, for some, is a recipe for allz teh good tymez.

I can respect people that take their playtime seriously...but what I can't respect are the people that make a point every week of reminding you, because of the nature of their work, that they can't enjoy the weekend. And I can say that because I've worked my fair share of weekends, but that's what I signed up for. To bitch about it would make me sound like an a-hole, in my opinion (which, in turn, makes those people sound like a-holes). The only people who are worse? The ones that have, for example, every Tuesday and Wednesday off, and will go out of their way in conversation to work in whatever their plans are for those days, because "that's my weekend". No. No that's not "your weekend". Those are your days off. Your weekend is the same as mine, and it's the same as the person standing on the exact opposite side of the world as you: Friday night, Saturday, and Sunday. You're not Hallmark; you don't get to decide where certain days should fall on the calendar or make up holidays.

And here's where I realize, a paragraph or two late, that I've fallen completely off topic. It was fun while it lasted.

I know I've had a lot of fun Fridays. I had a lot of fun other days too, but Fridays, maybe more than any other day. It's when you first get to let loose after five straight days of the monotonies of life dragging you through the motions. By Saturday the only thing you should feel like doing is attempting to relive Friday, and on Sunday you should hurt so good that recovery mode consists of a 14-hour Netflix marathon and Chinese takeout (bonus points if it's delivered; triple bonus points if you answer the door in underwear or less). Your weekend should always be so awesome that by bedtime Sunday night you're craving some semblance of normalcy...even if that normalcy means putting up with your shithead boss while the guy in the cubicle next to you busts rancid hard-boiled egg farts every fifteen minutes.

And since I've pretty much blown off the actual prompt, I'm gonna wrap this up with a little bit of life advice: Always try to incorporate a small part of the weekend into your everyday routine...you'll live longer, sleep better, and feel great. For 5-15 minutes a day (give or take), the benefits are worth it. Little things, like dancing in place to a song in your head, making time in the morning for some "personal pleasure", or just drinking on the job can give you seven full days of the satisfaction you normally get in two. Try it now; thank me later. *Wink*

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*Pizza* "Write about two creatures- human or animal- whose sense of power is altered by the other's presence."

I feel like the entries I've written so far this month have been as good as anything I've ever done since I began blogging. Until today.

And it's not that I think these prompts suck (they don't), or that I'm unmotivated...I just don't have anything for 'em. That's why my response to this prompt is going to be simple and short. There are two basic powers in this world- the two most powerful powers of all. I feel like a friend and an outcast at times to both of them. I know their strengths and their weaknesses, much like my own. But above all, there can only be one thing to unite them, and I can summon it in 30 minutes or less.

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*Type* "Throughout Hemingway's career as a writer he believed that it was bad luck to talk about writing- that it takes off 'whatever butterflies have on their wings and the arrangement of hawks' feathers if you show or talk about it.' Do you agree or disagree? Do you personally have any superstitions about your writing craft?"

Huh...would you believe that I don't think I've ever read anything by Hemingway? Luckily, this prompt is long enough to ensure that I won't go 0-for-3 today, even if this last part isn't that interesting.

Personally, I enjoy talking about writing...as long as it's not my own. Maybe it's because I'm the first one who sees it in front of me, and I know where it originates from, or I'd just rather the attention go somewhere else...I don't know.

Unfortunately, I don't have any superstitions when it comes to writing. I have a few routines- some I've had for years, and some I've only recently been practicing- but I'm not a believer in "If x, then y = jinxed" or some shit. Either people read this and like it, or don't like it, or don't read it...the alignment of the stars isn't gonna matter one bit in terms of my successes or failures.

Besides, Hemingway was a bit unhinged, wasn't he? I'd totally love what he said about not talking about writing if he substituted "caterpillars" for "butterflies" and if hawks didn't have feathers, and he spouted off about it while riding a unicorn topless over NYC with a cigar in one hand and an old Motorola brick cell phone in the other, talking gardening tips with Saddam Hussein.

Paragraphs like that last one are why I need to be in the t-shirt designing business.

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I've pretty much trainwrecked this entry all the way around anyway, so why not just add in one of Canada's greatest contributions to the early 1980's as well? Not like I'm hurtin' anything... *Rolleyes*


"Everybody's going off the deep end.
Everybody needs a second chance."
Lyrics.  


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*Computer* Nowadays we take the internet for granted. There are kids old enough to legally drink that have no idea the internet didn't come with the house they grew up in. But for those of us who can recall the early days of mainstream personal computing, here's a handy, slider-enabled side-by-side look at some common websites, then and now  .

*Lion* Speaking of planets aligning properly, I'm not into astrology or horoscopes or that stuff anymore...which is why this breakdown of the worst qualities of each zodiac sign   is funnier to me than maybe it should be. Plus, I'm a Leo, and the description here is fairly accurate.

*Idea* Whenever you're feeling stupid, just remember that there are millions of people on this planet who didn't invent anything worthwhile enough to warrant becoming rich and famous. There are good ideas, and great ideas, and then there's the the fifteen greatest ideas ever  .

*Crown* And finally, Father's Day is just around the corner (I don't know the exact date because I'm not a dad, but you can still feel free to shower me with presents, love, and paternal appreciation anyway)...and your pals over at Trending Buffalo have created this list of gifts   for that hard-to-shop-for man in your life. It's even easier to go along with these suggestions if he also happens to be a Buffalo sports fan.

Well, now that I've successfully ruined all that you've come to know about me and writing prompt-based blog entries, you should probably go spend the rest of your weekend volunteering for a charity or feeding the homeless or camping out in front of a church altar until it's time for you to go back to work on Monday. Peace, get it right, and GOODNIGHT NOW!!

June 11, 2015 at 6:25pm
June 11, 2015 at 6:25pm
#851432
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*Cheshire* "Another effective form of comedy is satire. Take a shot at writing a satirical piece on a local or national news story, or respond to any other blogging groups' prompt from a satirical viewpoint. Make it funny folks."

Good afternoon y'all! It's Thursday...Day 4 of Comedy Roundtable Week in the "30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS. I've had a bit of a rough week outside of the blogging arena so far, and today especially has been a bit of a drain, but I'm anxious to get going on spending quality time doing what I enjoy most...so let's go!

I love satire...plain and simple. Sites like The Onion  ...I don't even need to read their articles; the headlines usually tell me all I need to know. To me, it's a more educated form of comedy. You have to know enough about a certain subject, and then you need the chops to skewer it. At its essence it's creative writing 101, but with a bite. I've written decent material before, and I'm occasionally funny...I've also come off as slightly off-kilter and obnoxious, but I don't think I've ever actively tried to write something with a satirical bend. I guess there's a first time for everything...and hey, that's sorta the underlying theme of these mini-challenge weeks, isn't it? At least that's how I'm looking at it.

First though, I'll need some source material....Elon Musk's biggest challenge yet: Recharging Buffalo, NY  . And I'm gonna be honest...this article definitely gets the TL; DR designation (too long; didn't read, for the uninformed). The gist of it is that an old, closed down steel mill in Buffalo is gonna be turned into a plant that produces solar panels. This appeals to me because I'm from Buffalo, and my dad and grandfather worked at the mill mentioned as the potential site. I know very little else, so let's see what I can do.

Rich Man Wants To Turn Dead City Into Solar Gold

BUFFALO, NY- Elon Musk, a wealthy inventor and slightly "touched" entrepreneur, has decided to hold off on building his space rocket...his sights are set on a more terrestrial vision: getting the United States to compete on a global level in the burgeoning solar panel market. And he's chosen the most curious of locales to attempt this feat: snowy and often sunless Buffalo, NY.

Buffalo, once the nation's fourth-largest city because of its steel mills and proximity to snowier Canada, hasn't been visited by tourists since 1986...now the longest such streak in the US after President Obama mistakenly stopped in St. Louis for a hot dog and a smoke outside the famed Arch last summer. Residents are still digging out from a massive snowstorm that dropped 90" of snow in some areas over two days in November of 2014, and businesses have been slow to recover...the ones that have tried to reopen, that is.

But Musk is undeterred. Like an artist staring at a blank canvas, he sees the closed and decaying steel mills that populate South Buffalo as the starting point for a race against China, to see who can churn out devices that will harness the sun's mythical power. One can only hope that someday we'll be able to power cars, light up entire neighborhoods, and reverse the Earth's orbit with this fancy technology...all with the important "Made In The USA" sticker on the back.

The plan is for production to start in 2017, which will employ the approximately 3,000 people left in the city who aren't professional athletes or strippers. Mayor Byron Brown is banking on Musk's dream to hopefully land himself another term in office, making the city's first African-American mayor the longest tenured African-American mayor in Buffalo's racist history.

"We're on the precipice of something historic here," Brown said at his news conference, "and also, some guy with an electric car needs to borrow a garage with an outlet while he tries to redevelop our brownfields, which were named after me. Better cross that one off my bucket list." Brown also said the state's investment in the Western New York area, forgotten for years and dismissed as part of "Southern Canada" by former governors Eliot Spitzer and David Paterson  , will prove to be beneficial by putting more people on the tax roll- a major boon and the only source of revenue for the highest-taxing state in the nation.

Musk, at press time, was unavailable for comment...although he did let us listen to the motor humming in his battery-powered Tesla, and it sounds really killer. The Associated Press declined to contribute to this report, and has taken out a restraining order against myself and my staff...please, just look at my resumé! I've sent you an updated copy each month for the last three years, so I know you had to have seen it!


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*Glass2* "You walk into a winery and meet a charming French man woman serving up the wine tasting. When you leave the pouring room, you realize you are in 1950's France! What happens next?"

Oui oui!   Or something like that. I don't know any French, besides fries and kissing, and 1950's Google kinda sucks because it's a pocket dictionary that tells me how to ask for a bathroom, where to find a hotel, and how to say "please" and "thank you". But check out the eyes that wined-up madamoiselle is layin' on me...I guess I don't need to know how to say much more *Wink*.

I overheard her a bit during the tasting presentation...she does know a little of my language, and there's nothin' sexier than a beautiful foreign woman speaking broken English. I better make some eye contact and get her attention before one of these limp baguettes makes a play on her and ruins the best evening she doesn't know she's about to have.

And that's about all I can say...if you can't figure out what's about to happen next, you'll probably never know *Smirk* *Wink*. I'm not changing this blog's rating from 18+ to GC just for one drunken romantic romp with a hot French girl.

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*No* "In my psychology course, we're learning about obedience and morals. Do you find it difficult to say no to people when you view them as an 'authority' figure? Do you think your need to do as you're instructed would outweigh your personal morals, as has been proven to happen to the majority of people during psychological experiments such as The Milgram Experiment  ?"

This is absolutely fascinating. I'm a free-thinker. I tend to not play along well with authority, and I'm, well, at times I can be pretty morally bankrupt. I'm not sure if what I'm about to get into here will satisfy the prompt, but whatever. My blog, your suggested topic, my rules...dig?

I don't have a problem doing what I'm told as long as it's reasonable and within certain parameters of what's right and expected, but I also don't have a problem telling someone I won't do something if I feel it's wrong, pointless, or a waste of time.

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Maybe that's why in almost every job I've had I aspired to be the boss, and/or eventually took on a leadership position. Even though you're still putting up with someone else's bullshit, it's a different sort of bullshit...but at least you're paid a little more for it, and if you play your cards right the hours become a little more favorable. That part, I can confidently say, was one of my strong points with upper-management types...I did what I was supposed to do, occasionally went above and beyond, and was almost always compensated accordingly.

But I've also had to do the dirty work. I've had to fire people I thought were good, competent employees (because the people above me hated firing people as much as I did). I've had to discipline staff members I really liked. I don't care for conflict and I don't like angering or disappointing people. I've taken the bullet for the sake of delivering it to someone else, which sucks. But ya know what? Better someone else's head on the chopping block than mine.

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Maybe I'm stubborn and selfish, but there's nothing wrong with being driven and getting after whatever it is you want...whether it's a material item, or motivating someone else for something, or just trying to find whatever you're looking for in life. Know your limits and convictions...what's acceptable and what's not. Saying no is definitely ok, but don't be afraid to say yes and take care of yourself as well whenever applicable.


"Honesty or mystery? Tell me I'm not scared anymore.
I got no secret purpose, I don't seem obvious do I?"
Lyrics.  


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*Medicalblue* Well, it's official...I'm out for the year. Season-ending injury: Major Depressive Disorder, recurrent; Generalized Anxiety Disorder; Patient remains highly symptomatic. What does that mean? No work or school for another six months. Another med change...my doc's trying to switch me again to what he wanted to put me on back in February but my insurance wouldn't cover...but now that there's evidence of med trials not working, he thinks this time they'll authorize it. Kinda sucks. In the long run, I might qualify for disability benefits, but I'm still unclear on how all of that works...I'm just letting this all sink in for now.

*Leaf2g* On the plus side, after my stress-inducing trip trifecta of the doctor, social services, and the drug store for scripts, I managed to hit The Cortland Local Food Market  , which is great because now I don't have to go across town for produce and there's all kinds of organic foods. I might pay a little more, but that's ok 'cuz I'll be eatin' better (provided I get my appetite back eventually)...I even finally tried my first bottle of Kombucha  , and I kinda liked it. It's definitely different but I can get into it.

*Tv* I'll tell you what does have me ecstatic right now though...y'all know I'm a fan of comedy, especially Dave Chappelle. Yesterday I came across a link to 40 NSFW Chappelle memes  , and I spent a good long while adding a couple of them to my repertoire, as evidenced earlier in this entry.

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*Crayons9* I know some of you are kinda like me, and there's something seriously wrong with you you're curious about things that fall into the category of "out of the ordinary"...so I'm just gonna go ahead and say it: I've occasionally wondered what the skeletons of cartoon animals look like  . And now we finally know.

*Monkey* And finally, as I was laying in bed last night trying to fall asleep while watching Moone Boy  , my man Brother Nature left a link for me on Facebook...perhaps referring to the whereabouts of our old friend, one Andre The Blog Monkey. It seems that chimpanzees have found a way to get drunk in the wild  . No word on how they cope with hangovers or the bad decisions they make while shitfaced though.

Well, I think you and I have both been through enough today, and I for one feel a little bit better than when I started this day out, as well as when I began fingerblasting my tablet. If you feel even a tenth of the therapeutic value from reading this as I think I've gained from exercising my right to freely speak, then I can say I did alright. Peace, the DJ never has it, and GOODNIGHT NOW!!

June 10, 2015 at 9:06pm
June 10, 2015 at 9:06pm
#851369
Banner or header for 30DBC


*Cheshire* "Is there someone in your life, or family, who is the source of comic relief? Is there a funny story to share? What or who would you write about if you wanted to get a 'for sure' laugh?"

'Sup y'all? We're on Day 3 of our Comedy week in the "30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS's month of mini-challenges, and we're off to a pretty good start...or at least I think we are.

It's hard to say who the funniest person in my family could be. There aren't a whole lot of people left on my mom's side, and I don't even remember who I know anymore on my dad's side...is this one of those instances where it's ok to vote for yourself? Because outside of a couple of cousins on stepmom's side, there's a legit possibility out of everyone I could name you would probably choose me. And I'm not just sayin' that 'cuz I know the guy who writes this nonsense.

The trouble with picking someone is that "funny" is kind of a generic, catch-all statement that could mean different things to different people. My mom's got a pretty good sense of humor. My brother is always posting funny shit on Facebook. And I always had a good time with my half-brother, goofin' off and havin' a lot of fun (occasionally at the expense of others...shhhh). Me? I'm like the littlest best parts of all of that...no better and no worse (I don't want you guys thinkin' I'm sittin' over here all full of myself).

I'm the one who is probably the least serious, to a fault. At times when everyone's quiet/sad/respectful, I'm plotting a way to run my underwear up a flagpole. When everyone's working hard and doing a good job, there's me, schemin' a silly prank. I break monotony. I've learned to accept this about myself.

But that's not to say everyone I know has a giant stick up their asses; far from it. They're small sticks actually, made in such a way to minimize discomfort. I think we've acquired them at birth, right after we've been spanked hard enough by the doctor to get a response. See...that's another thing you didn't know about Obamacare.

I guess what I'm really trying to say is that I've been fortunate most of my life to be around people who could laugh, joke around, know when they were in on the joke, and know when they were the butt of the joke. And as much as I might complain about life once in awhile, that's one thing I couldn't imagine having any other way.

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*Woman* "Well behaved women seldom make history. Do you agree?"

Hell yeah I agree! I do so on the basis of one simple idiom: The squeaky wheel always gets the grease.

Sure, your history book is littered with all sorts of do-gooders who wore proper dresses and knotted their hair in buns so tight they could snare a hummingbird...but there are also lots of badass chicks we have plenty to be thankful for as well.

(Here's where I turn to the internet to do the work for me, because I'm terrible at remembering this stuff.)

I started Googling "badass", and the second autofilled selection was "women in history"...which is amazing because I don't believe I ever once Googled "badass" anything before. And the first site that came up was 55 Badass Women Who Changed History Forever  . The cool thing about this list is that for every famous person you might recognize, there are one or two that you've probably never heard of (or are listed anonymously), and they're doing something we most likely take for granted now.

But anyway, regarding the actual prompt, yeah, the "safe" choices- the ones who look good for the cameras- are often pegged as the face of whatever movement they're in front of...but real history is made by the women who speak up, take chances, and get demand results. Who would you rather see your little daughter eye as a role model, Betty Crocker or Rosa Parks? If you even have to think about it... *Facepalm*.

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*Kiss* "Confess or zip those lips...which is more out of character for you?"

My general disdain for society and my overall lack of trust in humanity pretty much means my lips are zipped for the most part...and when they're not, you can bet your last dollar they're not confessin' much, fo' sho'.

I'll speak out against something if necessary. I'll make my opinion be known when asked. But I'm of the belief that a person is wiser when they listen...I think the old adage goes something like "Be quiet and let everyone think you're an asshole, or say something and prove them right." I may have taken a few liberties with that quote, but if I spend that much more time on Google tonight I'll never finish this entry.

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There's plenty to be said about a good amount of solid quiet.


"My eyes...never forget, you see."
Lyrics.  


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*Glass3* Pour a little out for the dead homie Vincent Musetto, who recently passed away. If you don't know who he is, he wrote what is possibly the greatest headline in newspaper history: "Headless Body in Topless Bar"  .

*Hockey* It's the ultimate event of the hockey season, and the sporting world's greatest trophy is up for grabs...Lord Stanley's Cup. However, it seems that NBC, the channel that televises one game a week on its flagship station and a handful of other games on cable during the regular season, is against one of the best traditions in all of mankind's athletic competitions: they want players to not grow playoff beards  , because they claim it's harder to market the stars of the game when they're not clean-shaven. I'm calling bullshit. You know what helps to grow the game, NBC? Show more than one game a week. Show teams besides the Penguins, Rangers, Red Wings, and Kings. Get rid of that douchebag Mike Milbury, who doesn't deserve to be an analyst for the street hockey games on Kokomo St., let alone NBC. The playoff beard is a thing of beauty...a badge of honor. It says "I've earned the right to play on the game's biggest stage, in June." Don't mess with that...not when there are about thirty other ways to "market the players". And I'm not just sayin' that because I have a beard and enjoy hockey. Respect the game, and all that comes with it...stupid suits in boardrooms who don't know dick about the sport.

*Calculator* If you've been reading my blog for any length of time longer than the last few days, you'll know that I prefer not to bring math into, uhhhh, pardon the expression, the equation. It's not that I have anything against math; I just don't do it out of respect for those who aren't a fan of it. However, this is something I think everyone, including the numerically-challenged, can enjoy: pictures that prove the guys in math problems really exist  .

*Exclaimo* And finally, remember yesterday when I shared a link about punctuation marks that should be invented to keep up with our ever-evolving language and the way we speak it? Well, there are actually 13 real punctuation marks you won't find on a standard (or advanced) keyboard  . My favorite, for slightly obvious reasons, is the "interrobang" (and not just 'cuz it'd be a cool name for a band)...although I'd probably get a lot of mileage out of the "snark mark".

Alright you people...I've had just about enough of you for one day. Try and keep the noise down, and last one out please kill the lights. Peace, we need a little hope, and GOODNIGHT NOW!!


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