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 |   A little bit of everything, colored my own way. |
 BLOG CHALLENGE WINNER FOR SEPTEMBER 2011 AND APRIL 2012!! ** Image ID #1901871 Unavailable **  After almost a year away, I've decided to revisit Blogville. I'm refreshed and ready...this time around it'll be a little different. I'll talk about a little bit of everything...music, sports, retail life, and more. It's not for everyone...you might not like it, but someone you know (and possibly detest) probably will! WHO THE HELL DO I THINK I AM??  We're gonna find out one way or another!  Relax, enjoy, leave a comment, tell your friends... A special thanks to Julie D - PUBLISHED!  for the 2011 Quill Awards image!"There is only one way...it is THE WAY." -Photo Jesus  "Can't you count to one??"  Thanks for stopping by and showing your support!  |
| 30DBC PROMPT: "Write a short story or poem from the point of view of a wedding bouquet." Hello, people. I still hate cats, and I hate this prompt, but the iconoclastic Brother Nature  is fronting major props toward a successful entry. I myself would love to do the same, but I just spent my GP's on having three more months of this WDC thing.But here will I stroke from the breast. And so, and so, and so you come again. Wringing your hands around my fate just to throw me to the populous. You better know better, better before you don't. The lingering doesn't stand a chance outside of your chances. Fling 'em in the air; fling me like we don't care. Your beauty is bigger than me. You You Your beauty is. Like it, or don't. BCF PROMPT: "What's one of the stupidest things you've ever done?" I really hope I'm not expected to answer this. Seems like I've made a career out of stupidiocity. I do stupid things all the time, even with my better judgement applied. I think we all do, and I don't know of anyone who wishes to comment on them. But I'll try: writing prompt-based poems, and justifying it. I admire other writers and bloggers who can squirt out an impressive poem based on a prompt. But that's not how I work. I don't even know how I work, but I know that's not how I work. Regular readers of this internetilliciousness know that by now. But I can't justify this prompt with one tale. I could write a whole 'nother blog full of stupid things I've done. Please admire me for not having to stoop to that point though. MUSICAL BREAK!! Just because I can. And she's ridiculously beautiful. So there.  VITAL STATS:  I haven't read anything lately. I feel like I'm falling behind. My bad, y'all.{e: uhhh, why isn't there a breakfast sandwich emoticon?? Or at least a bacon one? And that's my cue to move away from the keyboard for now. Peace, hit the low notes, and GOODNIGHT NOW!! |
| 30DBC PROMPT: "Have you laughed today? What were you laughing about? If you haven’t laughed yet today, find something funny to share with the rest of us." Welcome to another "Funny Friday", friends. Allow me to use this opportunity to share with you one simple fact about me. I hate cats. As much I wanted to resist the idea, I'm spending time at my friend lktropuckr's house, unofficially house-sitting. It's better than being at my place, for the simple fact that it's not my place. And now that we've got that out of the way, let me continue. I, in my infinite wisdom, consider myself somewhat of electronics "whiz". Meaning, I should be able to go into any home and operate your tv. I spent a lot of time learning the intricacies of consumer electronics. And yet, I'm dumbfounded by the two...not one, but two...tvs in this living room. All I wanted to do is fall asleep to SportsCenter on ESPN. Instead, I could only watch reruns of Friends I've already seen a bazillion times, Everybody Loves Raymond, and some American Idol recap show that I think I only gave my presence to for the "train wreck" effect that had potential, but didn't come to fruition. (I hate saying anyone is a "whiz" at anything, because it makes me think juvenile things, like having to take a pee.) Anyway, I managed to figure out how to turn off the tv, and prepared myself to sleep on the couch. As I was about to nod off, I heard the familiar "ack ack ack ack ack ack ack uhhhhhh" of a cat puking. I was not pleased, but managed to find myself back to sleep. I woke up this morning, having forgotten the whole thing. Until I passed through the kitchen and back to the living room. In the dining room was possibly the largest pile of cat vomit I've ever seen. And it's not like I've never been around cats before. My ex had a couple, and my dad and stepmom had some. But this, by far, was the worst. It was shaped like a giant donut, and it looked like a kid stepped in the middle of it. And here's the deal with cat puke...it makes me want to puke. I take no responsibility for children or animals that aren't my own unless I have a vested interest...but as a good house borrower, I did the deed and cleaned up after whichever beast heaved. Here's the big problem...I let myself out the back door this morning to have a smoke and get some fresh air. Kinda feel my surroundings, ya know? Trouble is, the black cat followed me out. And I couldn't coax it back in. I'm not some kind of animal whisperer, and I sure as hell wasn't about to place my mitts on someone's cat, couch-crashing or not. And to make matters worse, I'm pretty sure a white cat lived here too. I was reminded of that when I stepped out front for a smoke, and saw a white cat meowing at me from the adjacent driveway. I thought I kept things pretty locked-down while I was here. (Insert your laugh anywhere.) So now I don't know what to do or think. I'm grateful, but I'm an ass. I don't even wanna charge my phone, which is dying, because then I might be compelled to explain myself. "Hey, have fun at the beach, btw, your cats are gone." Yeah, nobody wants to send that text. And just because my history with cats isn't stellar doesn't mean I want them gone! And for the record, I still haven't figured out the tv yet. I haven't even tried. BCF PROMPT: "What’s the most significant secret you’ve ever kept? Did the truth ever come out?" As one who shares all and keeps what little he has worth hiding close to the vest, I don't think I have any secrets. Though I'm sure I'm wrong. Case in point: the beginning of this entry. I should be running like skinny OJ over airport chairs catching an Avis car. Instead, I'm sitting here, getting fat, pshawing doctors' orders. I kinda don't like this prompt. Seems a little personal. I don't have skeletons in my closet; they're on the bankroll. My secrets are just that...secret, as far as my eyes can see. And that's not saying much in this internetical era. MUSICAL BREAK!! I can't find it on YouTube, but there's a great track by De La Soul featuring Mike D and Adrock from the Beastie Boys called "Squat". It's the first song on the Art Official Intelligence cd. De La is nice. Instead I bring you this: VITAL STATS:  Still not trying. A big ups to all the blue people now on WDC. Some of y'all made me, kept me, created me and meant a lot to me.I hear a microwave telling me my dinner is done, so I need to GTFO of here. Peace, watch your feet at the door, and GOODNIGHT NOW!! |
| 30DBC PROMPT: "Thunderstorms. People tend to love ‘um, or hate ‘um. Which side are you on?" Good afternoon readers, writers, and those who fall in-between (whatever that is). Short prompts mean short entries, at least for  thisguy it does. Nothing better than the simplification of complex thoughts, right? Just nod and agree.While I disdain most every type of weather pattern and form of precipitation that isn't all-out associated with sunshine (and that includes you, wind, and the random high-low pressure systems), I don't mind a long, loud thunderstorm. That is, providing I'm not trying to sleep. And I'm inside. And I still have the ability to turn lights on or off. That's important, because although watching a thunderstorm in the dark can be equal parts fascinating, romantic and therapeutic, trying to find the fridge or the bathroom in the dark can sometimes be a pain in the ass. But for my money (which isn't a lot, but that's not your problem), nothing, I say nothing, tops a thunderstorm complete with lightning while it's snowing. And I don't mean snowing as in, "Awww, let's go catch snowflakes on our tounges" snowing...I'm talkin', "Dammit, I can't see across the street", "shoveling six inches every half-hour before you go to bed only to shovel another two feet when you wake up" kind of snowstorm. There must be something with how the lightning reflects off the falling snow that makes it seem that much brighter and whiter. Especially when the roads are quiet. Everything just seems to be focused on the sky. It's almost, dare I say it, magical. All that coming from someone who hates cold, snow, winter, and make-believe. BCF PROMPT: "Star Trek or Star Wars?" Uhhh, neither? Ok, that's totally not true. But before I divulge my answer, allow me to play devil's advocate and throw a third party into the fray: Lost In Space. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C3yK77GWBbk As odd as it seems, I remember some of my tv watching habits as a young boy in Cheektowaga. I was in awe of the "special effects" (I use that term loosely...it was the very early eighties, and I was probably six) that Star Trek employed. I may have even listed it as one of my favorite shows, not having any idea that it was around a lot longer than I was. I mean, who at that age really thought anything existed before they were born? But then I went to a theater to see a Star Wars movie. I don't remember which one. May have been "The Empire Strikes Back", may have been "Return Of The Jedi". It doesn't matter. What matters is that I'm sure I'd seen other movies in theaters before that, but what George Lucas did effects-wise just blew me away. Even if I really didn't care about the story itself. I was a young boy, and I knew two things: talking robots are the shit, and Princess Leia is super friggin' hot. So I guess that makes me more "Star Wars" than "Star Trek". And when Lucas re-issued the original Star Wars episodes maybe 10 or 15 years ago, I took my li'l bro to see one of them. But I'm not gonna pretend I'm some super-geek fan. I've yet to sit through Episodes I-III. And it's gonna take a real special lady to convince me I should (hint: dress like Leia and it'll help your cause, potential ex-girlfriends I haven't met yet). And even though I don't remember much of the old Lost In Space tv show, I really think when I was a little kid I liked that better. But that's my opinion. MUSICAL BREAK!!  If I have a guilty pleasure (ok, I have several), it's for that weird space in music that's in-between post-eighties synth pop and nineties grunge. VITAL STATS:  lktropuckr is on vacation...which means I may find myself house-sitting here and there, abusing her internet connection and raiding her fridge. Sounds like a weekend to me.Like I said, I'm gonna keep it short today. Maybe read a little and see what else the day brings. Peace, may the force be with you, and GOODNIGHT NOW!! |
| 30DBC PROMPT: "Have you ever attended a school, class, or military reunion? Write about the experience of seeing people you once knew well but haven't talked to in years. Were they the same people now as then? Were you? Did you find yourself falling back into your old role from that time?" Hey y'all, what's up? Lotta questions to get to in today's prompt there. Do you really wanna pull that thread today? Sure you do. Ok. I've never attended an official class reunion. I remember debating strongly with myself about going to my tenth. I really didn't want to; I hadn't seen or spoken to most of those people since graduation day, and I knew my best friend from high school wasn't going. I felt like I had no reason to go. There were only a handful of people I was really curious about, but I was sure the curiosity wasn't mutual. After talking it over with a few people, I decided to go. Why not? It was only a town over. I had nothing to lose really. Until I lost my job and my bank account was somehow frozen. I remember getting a letter in the mail asking if I would still be attending, and I had to say no. What was I gonna talk about? It seemed pointless. Then Facebook comes around and, all of the sudden, people you were never friends with want to be "friends" with you. That whole charade is weird. People post things because they want someone to care, but don't get too friendly or personal with them. I've never quite understood it. But whatever. I did manage once to get myself invited to a casual get-together once at a bar...maybe 20 of us or so were there. Only a few I would've considered myself friends with in high school. And I'll be damned if it basically was just like then...all the cliques shot off to their separate sides, co-mingling was random and fleeting, and more often than not I was staring at the tv and talking to my ex, who didn't go to school with us and knew no one. If I kinda already didn't see it coming, I'd say it would've been awkward, but it can't be awkward if you know what to expect. This year will be the 20-year reunion. I haven't heard a word about it, and I wouldn't go even if they sent a homing pigeon to find me. Again, I find myself unemployed. And this time, I live three hours away. It makes no sense for me to go. Why would I want to try to hang out with a group of people that included 90% of people I wouldn't hang out with anyway, and vice/versa? I could spend 10 minutes a day on Facebook and know roughly all I need to know about everyone I care to know about. Sorry to be such a Debbie Downer, but really, what's the point? High school's over. I'm not the same kid that didn't fit in. I'm a different kid who got in where he fit. BCF PROMPT: "Are you a person who considers their glass half-empty or half-full?" I had to consult a few experts for this, the quintessential question of what your existence means to the world. Again, due to Windows 8 and I not getting along, this rendering of imagery is on the side that sucks, so bear with me:  "The glass is either half empty or half full? False. The glass is 50% full of air and 50% full of water, therefore it is 100% full."- Dwight Schrute It is my contention that, while the glass may be half empty or half full, I never got a glass to start with. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H-7NHX1bRYs This is not to say whether I'm pessimist or an optimist, but rather a realist. It's not for me to debate, but to understand. And while all y'all are debatin' this or that, I'm drinkin' your water. I do my fair share of daydreaming and analyzing and reacting and overreacting, but the end result is realizing what we have and treating it as what it is. Fair or not to us, we just have to accept it...if we can do better, we will, and if we can and don't then there's usually no one else to blame. And if you can't do anything about your glass, you have to learn to live with it. For all the complaining I've done from time to time, I think I've done ok with the realization thing. But don't be mistaken...this doesn't make me any bit more grown up. MUSICAL BREAK!!  This might be the most pessimistic song ever to be titled "Optimistic".  VITAL STATS:  I understand that I waited 'til almost the last minute to do my taxes this year, but shouldn't I have my refunds by now? This is why I tell myself every year not to wait until the last minute, and for some reason, every year, it's the last minute before I do them. But I don't ever recall waiting this long for a return...usually it's two, maybe three weeks tops. And it's not like the government's makin' crazy gains on my piddly return by banking off the interest or anything. Jerks.That's about all of the bellyachin' I can handle for one afternoon. 'Sabout time I roll on and see what else is goin' on around here. Peace, keep your chin up, and GOODNIGHT NOW!! |
| 30DBC PROMPT "Do you have any scars? Tell us about them." Good afternoon folks! How is everyone today? I hope you're all comfortable...because I'm about to upend that comfy-ness all over the place. Do I have scars? How much time ya got? Nah, I'll play nice. Sorta. I'll leave out all the emotional ones. I'm sure people have been bullied and picked on a lot more than I have (and I don't mean that in any minimizing kind of way). I'll skip the jagged scar on my back from having a birthmark removed (it's barely noticeable now anyway...it was about a inch and a half long though, and the birthmark itself had a tail growing inside me, which was starting to hurt...thankfully it wasn't cancerous). I'll move past the hernia scar I have from the surgery to patch it up in 2000, which is still kinda nasty but now just looks like a line between my belly and the rest of my midsection. I won't even bring up the scar from when I was moving a shelf that had over 500 cd cases on it...I forgot when I put it together there was a top half and a bottom half, so when I started dragging it, the top half became separated from the bottom and the bottom slid down my leg, taking about six inches of skin with it. And yet, that's the least painful of my scars. In the interest of saying me and Windows 8 aren't having a good time with picture editing, and that I've spent way too much time trying to get these images up on WDC, I will warn you that I rated them "GC", just to be on the safe side. [Ed. Note: I had to change the entire rating of my blog to "GC" just to get these pics in.  ]Here's an x-ray of the ankle I broke in December. Well, fractured, dislocated, tore ligaments, did everything short of destroy basically. Hopefully I didn't crop it too much. Mainly, you'll notice the seven screws. You probably won't see the torn up ligaments or the fracture, which is too bad. [Ed. Note: Notice the displacement of the ankle itself...the difference in space between the right side and the left side. They should almost "fit together" and be equidistant from the leg bones...and here they are not.]  In order to get the plate in, they had to cut open both sides of my foot. One side healed nicely, and they didn't need to reopen it to get the two big screws out. [Ed. Note: This is what doctors call "beautiful".]  The outside scar is the ugly one. Not only did it get infected after the first surgery, but that's where they went through during the second surgery to get the screws out. It's also a lot bigger...maybe twice the size of the other one. I'd say it's about 5-6 inches long. And I took it before the second set of stitches came out. It was hard getting a well-angled shot of it. [Ed. Note: The whitish part at the bottom of the scar is where the infection was. Is it obvious?]  I guess if you're going to do crazy things like jump over a bonfire, you better learn to watch where and how you land. Tomorrow marks five months of this, and I still can barely walk. BCF PROMPT: "Do you believe in ghosts, angels, or spirits?" I'm pretty sure we had this prompt a few months ago in the "30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS"  . [Ed. Note: "This one's about trivial trivia." ]I don't believe my answer has changed. I really don't believe in any of that stuff. I can acknowledge that I have a slightly overactive imagination at times, and things happen that defy all logical reasoning and explanation, but ghosts, angels and spirits? No. No way. Uh-huh. Forget it. (Don't believe me? Skip to the 1:35 mark of this song http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jW3PFC86UNI.)I just don't. I think we see too much of this crap on tv and in books and movies, and we automatically buy in. We believe what happens in fictional, made-up shit all too often and because we can't define it, we assume it's the work of some otherworldly power. In fact, I had a conversation with lktropuckr a few weeks ago about this. She claims her college's sorority house was haunted. "Why do these things happen when nobody is around, and there's no explanation for them?" she would say. Why? Because people watch too many damn horror flicks where creepy bastards lunge out at teenage girls in forests, and all the sudden nobody wants to go camping. Just like nobody went swimming at the beach in the late seventies after the movie "Jaws" came out. Let's get real...you're more likely to be eaten by a shark (a real, living, breathing thing) than be tripped up by Casper, The Friendly Ghost (a real cartoon, and crappy kids' movie)...and even less likely to be saved by anything if a homicidal maniac decides to come after you and your homies a la any of the "Scream", "Friday The 13th" or "Halloween" movies (or this: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UXGxrCHE7Ts). Take it to the bank, and bring me back my change. MUSICAL BREAK!! Oh, so many different places to go with this today...and I'll just go with something I probably posted years ago. It's all good... VITAL STATS:  I've decided that I'd rather break my right shoulder two more times than rehab one broken ankle. Who feels me? Going out for a real piece of pizza for dinner, and not the fake microwave Hot Pocket crap!   I think my room is haunted!! I'm done with this, y'all. Gonna read up to see who else in the "Blogging Circle of Friends " is sane normal not into ghosts and stuff, and listen to the pain and scarring of today's "30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS" entrants. Peace, put some 'tussin on it, and GOODNIGHT NOW!! |
| 30DBC PROMPT: "This is a timed challenge. You will write for three minutes on the first subject, and when three minutes is up, you will write for another three minutes on the last noun you typed. Continue this as long as you think is reasonable. Your starting subject is: TRAVEL." Happy Monday, said no one ever. What's up, good people out there? What do we have here? Something new and innovative in the annals of "30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS" history? A timed challenge? Unheard of! Ok, let me dig up my egg timer before I begin  . Three minutes. Yeesh! Prove it! Oh, and someone remind me what a "noun" is again?  I'm laughing now, but watch me screw that part up pretty fiercely. Ok, here goes...Travel. To travel is, in basketball terminology, to move your feet with the basketball minus the dribbling (that's my official definition because looking up the actual definition would cost me precious seconds). Last week it was beautiful out, but because of the condition of my ankle, I still am not allowed to shoot hoops. This made me sad. Now it's absolutely miserable outside; they're calling for rain and possibly wet snow. It's effing May, people!! The middle of May!! It's closer to summer now than winter!! Let's get a move on, sunshine!! DING!! Whew. I was starting to sound like a pissed-off second grader there. Ok, where am I? Sunshine!! Right. Listen sunshine, I don't have no time for it to be cold; ain't nobody got time for that. You hear me, sunshine? Let's get a bright and rosy move-on with it. You know it's still cold out when people are wearing pajama pants in public, and you're not even near a Wal-Mart. Seriously. I don't know what else to say about sunshine, other than I think my three minutes are almost up and I did a poor job of stretching that one out. DING!! Out. It's where it's at when it's not in. Or home. Or, also, not in. Out like bell-bottoms. Outta here like last year. Out like...not in. Innie, like my belly button. How many four-letter words can you make with the word "out"? Trick question!! "Tout" uses the same letters. I'm really struggling here. When did these prompts get so tough? DING!! Tough. Boy, this steak is tough. T-o-u-g-h. Tough. Oh, this isn't a spelling bee? So there's no trophy at the end? E-n-d, end. I wouldn't want to win a spelling bee. When you win one, you're usually invited to another one, and it's the next level up of spelling champs, which means it gets harder. That, and you usually have farther to travel. DING!! Travel. Geez. Back where I started. White flag  . You win, "30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS" ...no, wait, "travel" is a verb, I'm pretty sure! No fair! I'm filing this entry under protest!! Making it all about nouns and starting off with a verb! Where's the grammar police?! They're all over when a brother's out there, using "their" instead of "they are", but when I need some nouns and verbs challenged, the "Out To Lunch" sign goes up, the donut shops get busy and laws are disregarded everywhere. Anarchy! Anarchy, I tell you, "30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS" !! Who invited the drama queen? BCF PROMPT: “If you could speak to anyone alive or dead throughout history who would you chose and why?” Well, I'm really not a big history buff. I'm not really any kind of buff, unless I'm in the buff, but I'm not naked right now (although I'm pretty naked under my clothes), and unless being a Buffalonian counts, then no, I'm no buff nor not buff. I imagine I could say something thought-provoking like "I'd like to go back 200 years and talk to an ancestor" or something like that, but I don't see anyone in my lineage being that particularly open. Especially to a kid who hasn't had a haircut in over a year and needs a good shave. I think my people were like that...always preferring the clean-shaven types. Maybe not. Depends on what side of the family tree I tried climbing up, I guess. I don't even know if there's anyone in the history of music or sports I'd want to have a chit-chat with. If you know me, you know I don't really do the idolatry thing very much or very well, and I guess there are just some myths in life I don't want to see dispelled. That's leaving me with very few options. I tend to be an empathetic person, and sure, I'm curious by nature. I'd love to sit down with a serious criminal and find out why he/she really did whatever heinous crimes they did. But that doesn't seem like it'd play well for this crowd, even with the 18+ rating. Well, I got nothin'. And I can't sit here talkin' to myself all day, even on good days where I might be fun company. You know what might be fun? Sitting in front of a panel, and that panel's made up of a handful of the best ex-girlfriends I ever had. Moderated by a friend of mine (no idea who), in order to provide some balance since I'd be outnumbered. Make it some kind of joint Q&A session, where I get to ask things like "Why aren't we still together?" and "You really don't expect me to believe that, right?", and they can ask me things like "Did you really mean it when you said you were dating the hotter sister?" and "Do you expect me to still believe that?". That sounds like a good time, and it'd be a little more informative! Hey, if I leave your house and don't return your calls or call you for three weeks, it's probably over! Likewise if it's the other way around. And yes, your cats did piss me off, it has been this way with other girls, and I do matter!! I don't know if I've ever worked up that much of a sweat when typing. I think I need a shower. MUSICAL BREAK!!  "Well, don't you look at me like life doesn't hold you no mystery." Always loved that line.  VITAL STATS: Good news for the first week of May!  ** Image ID #1933256 Unavailable **  More physical therapy, first thing in the morning tomorrow. I am not a morning person. I think having to be at PT at 9am constitutes cruel and unusual punishment. Especially when walking still sucks. I have more beefs with this library I visit. Maybe it's my OCD, but I'm very particular of where I sit in certain places (usually restaurants). I have to face a certain way in relation to things like doors, other people, and usually, if possible, where I can see the kitchen. And I almost always need to see a clock, but that's not the point. In this library, I've found a comfortable table to sit at. It's tucked in a corner, and depending on where I sit, I can see everything going on, or just a partial view. It'd be the best seat in the house, but it's located next to the damn copy machine. So when Suzie Q. 95-year-old-lady wants to copy every page of the New York Times' stock reports, guess who's copying one page at a time and setting them on my little private area of the world within a world? Yup, that lady. At least the dude after her who smelled like he ate an ashtray asked if he could borrow some of my table. That's manners. Use 'em, y'all, or get the stink-eye the rest of the time you're in my vision's way. And you, sir, Mr. "I don't have enough devices to be connected to this free internet", the last I checked you had two hands, and one pair of eyes. No need to be on your laptop, iPad, and cell phone all at once...and then on top of it, you have to break the "silence" code here at the library, not only by playing some video of a woman speaking in a foreign language and moaning (yeah, it was loud), but then slamming your laptop screen shut like "oh no we di-in't jus' hear that!", while looking around and saying, "Oh, shit, I don't know how that happened!"...and then proceed to do it twice more. Thanks, guy. Three frickin' internet devices, and no common courtesy. Welcome to 2013.And that's all I have for today. I think. I'm sure I had more to add but the weekend might do that to ya, I figure. At least that's my excuse and I'm standing firm on it. Peace, secure your devices, and GOODNIGHT NOW!! |
| 30DBC PROMPT: "Blog. Tell us about your week. Include your favorite blog entry from your fellow challengers from the preceding week and, most importantly, why." What's up folks? I'm gonna keep this short and hopefully sweet, as I'm looking forward to the "30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS" and "Blogging Circle of Friends " prompts for Monday, but first I must share my favorite entry of the week.I usually try to avoid going to the same well too many times, but in this circumstance I can't help it...so for the second week in a row I'm going with Elle - on hiatus  , but with good reason.I know I mentioned this entry ("Why you yellow bellied ingrate!" ) in my previous entry, but it bears repeating. It's a great reminder of what WDC started out as for all of us who've been around long enough to sort of remember it, and it gives those who weren't around a glimpse of what working on the site used to be like. I don't think there's anyone who can't get something from that entry.But I also have to say how much I enjoyed "She'll be right, mate." as well. Elle took a tough prompt (man, why does it feel like they've all been tough lately??) and totally killed it...and she even used PopNotes! I enjoy me a well-turned prompt full of wit and PopNotes!!So there you have the Monday morning Sunday Review. And I'm supposed to blog on top of it? Isn't that what the last six days were for? Anywho, I think I'm going to catch up on my reading first, and let the new prompts kind of marinate for a bit. Peace... |
| 30DBC PROMPT: "Write a list of statements beginning with 'I used to think...'" What's up y'all? Interesting prompt for "Creation Saturday", I suppose. Let me drag out the erector set and see what my keyboard can come up with. I used to think... I was invincible. But it turns out I'm pretty breakable. I used to think... I could be anything I wanted to be. But that requires effort, and some days I have none of that. I used to think... "Funny" meant making people laugh, but it's more of a state of mind. I used to think... You were supposed to fight for what you believe in. But girls don't think like that, even when they say they want you to. I used to think... I knew it all. Or at least most of it. Some? A little? Nope. I used to think... But then I realized I think too much and maybe that's not so healthy. Another puzzling prompt, if you ask me. I used to think I could handle them all, if not with grace then with some sort of twisted humor. Yoda said, "Wrong, you were." BCF PROMPT: "Describe your first experiences with WDC. First item, any trouble figuring out stuff? Funny stuff like that." Oh wow...I don't really remember. It was so long ago! Elle - on hiatus and Matt Bird MSci (Hons) AMRSC have some really great links from the stories.com days in this entry: "Why you yellow bellied ingrate!" . And my old portfolio back in the day looked like this: http://www.writing.com/main/redirect.php?redirect_url=http://goo.gl/bt3IF. I was really into the "Writer's Cramp" contest back then ("The Writer's Cramp" )...I wish I had saved a lot of those pieces, but I don't think I saved any of them, and lost them all the first time I let my paid membership lapse. For awhile, I stopped writing in actual notebooks when I joined up, because it was just too easy to sit in front of a computer and bang out the thoughts in my head for immediate consumption and gratification. And of course, with that you learn the hard way about not backing things up properly. I remember burning through ink cartridges on my printer the day I realized my account was about to be locked...I tried printing everything I could, but didn't have time to salvage everything. I'm happy that I could at least save what I could, and that there's some kind of archive to remind me of what I couldn't. Crazy how this internet stuff works sometimes, isn't it?MUSICAL BREAK!!  Yup, that's all...  VITAL STATS: Thanks to WDC, I have learned that "no one" is two words, and "Noone" is a singer. http://peternoone.com/ An early "Happy Mothers Day" to all you fantastic moms out there.  I think at one point I had more to add but probably thought better of it. Wasn't even feeling like answering the prompts today, but I managed somehow. Now I think it's time to get out of here and get some food in my belly. Peace, I think, and GOODNIGHT NOW!! |
| 30DBC PROMPT: "Hidden in plain sight." Hey folks, what's happenin'? Am I missing something here? Did my spam filter catch something in the email from the "30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS" that maybe I was supposed to see? Am I just blind?? Wow. This is trouble-making, 30DBC. Straight-up chicanery. I'm calling it now. I design thin hand lip. I hand signed thin lip. I lip sang the din hind. I give up. I got nothin' on this prompt today. BCF PROMPT: "What rights should the father have if his unmarried girlfriend wants an abortion?" And at the other end of the spectrum, you have pure controversy. I'm going to side with fairness on this, and say not every case can be considered equal. For every scumbag "dad" that would bolt upon hearing he knocked up his ladyfriend, there's a man waiting to be a father to the child he sired. I'm taking morality and religion out of the question, and presuming that there's a legitimate reason for abortion (that should keep the haters back a little). People make mistakes. Maybe the couple wasn't trying to conceive. Sex does exist for purposes other than prolonging the human race. But maybe the couple isn't ready to raise a child properly, and can't fathom the thought that there is a child somewhere in the world with their gene-map runnin' around that isn't necessarily being brought up the way they'd like him/her to. Perhaps the woman has become terribly ill and wouldn't survive squeezin' out a kid. Or what if there's a strong chance the kid itself won't survive? Now, I'm not advocating in any way abortion. Especially not as a means of birth control. But say it's come down to that as a final option? Does the knocker-upper have any say? Honestly, he should at least have an educated opinion. But while it takes two people (or more, depending on your preferences) to make a baby, one person is carrying it, possibly for nine whole months, and her body's never gonna be quite the same after that. If the couple cares for one another, an open dialogue must be had and the seriousness of the implications regarding this decision must be laid out, both pro and con. Now, I don't know the legalese on what rights unmarried folk have regarding pregnancy. For all I know it varies from state to state and country to country. I'm under the premise that a guy can't force an abortion legally, nor can he stop it from happening. All he gets is a say in the matter, but that's just it...a suggestion, for or against. I think that's why it's always been "the woman's right to choose". And this is why Fridays aren't funny. MUSICAL BREAK!!  Let's try to switch gears a little here, shall we? I used to sing this on a bar stool, warming up the crowd at GPC back in the day.  VITAL STATS:  I'm no doctor, but I've decided I want the five remaining screws removed from my leg. Either that, or I want a better explanation as to why they're still in there. I need to convince my doctor that I really don't like them being where they are.That's it for today, y'all. Think I'm gonna decamp inside for the rest of the day and relax...might not be a bad idea. Peace, hide in plain sight, and GOODNIGHT NOW!! |
| 30DBC PROMPT: "What are your thoughts on the new look of Writing.Com? What are your favorite things about it, and, if anything, what would you like to see changed?" Party people in the place to be, listen to me: I've written this entry in some form or another probably five times over, and it still doesn't change. What's up? Time, that's what's up. My stats at WDC will show you that I've been a member since July of 2001. Almost 12 years. My WDC portfolio is almost old enough to legally have its own portfolio. But you and I both know the world isn't ready for that. Back in the day, here's what WDC was:  It wasn't writing.com. It was stories.com. It was totally free. No paid memberships. That meant, for a short time, an unlimited portfolio size. WritingML consisted of bold, italics, underline, and maybe six or eight different colors. Nothing else. Blogs barely existed anywhere and didn't on WDC. No merit badges, trophies, ribbons or community points.I'm sure I'm missing a lot of other key features and points. After 12 years, you're allowed to forget a few things. All that being pushed aside though, I have to say I'm never a big fan of change. I get used to something and I stick with it. But it never fails...just when I've figured something out, it has to get rearranged. I've seen a lot of changes in my time here. I think I like this one the best. My biggest concern when introducing friends to this site for the first time was that they might get thrown off by how "busy" it looked at first glance. It was almost overwhelming. Lots of words, lots of things everywhere, and no real direction it seemed for someone who really just wanted to join to read me and people like me. This new look has definitely cleaned up a lot of the clutter. I like the larger print of blog titles. Of course, if I finally got a new pair of glasses that might not be as big a deal. If I had one complaint, it'd be the same complaint I've been making since the day WDC allowed the sharing of images. Allow us to upload bigger images!! I'm not a fan of uploading an image to my computer, trying to upload it to WDC, getting the "file size error" message, resizing the pic, trying again, getting the same error because my image is 312x298 and not 300x300 or less, re-resizing the pic, and finally getting it right. I understand this isn't Facebook, and we all use WDC differently from the next person, but please, these file-size limitations have been in place since the best digital cameras on the market only went up to 3.1 megapixels. That's all I'm really asking for. Unless WDC wants to go back to free, unlimited memberships. But I understand that really isn't prudent. BCF PROMPT: "Do you fall asleep quickly or very slowly?" HAH!! Insomniacs of the world, unite!! I would love...love, love, love, to be the guy who's out as soon as his head hits the pillow. But I'm not. And it sucks. I need background noise. And exhaustion. And Ambien. And here's my latest trick...I take an Ambien and two Tylenol PM's and lay down with a dvd playing at a low volume. I fall asleep...and I'm wide awake three hours later. Sometimes I'll take another Ambien and maybe sleep three more hours. Or I'll toss and turn, sleeping maybe 15 minutes out of every hour. Painfully. Hopefully, a visit to the doc next week gets that ironed out. But I'm not banking on it. I've tried everything. OTC sleep aids, melatonin supplements, cutting out caffeine after 4pm, big dinners, small dinners, no dinners, you name it. Sleep and I for some reason don't seem to be able to see eye to shut-eye. It's beyond frustrating. MUSICAL BREAK!!  Soul Coughing's "Sleepless"...you'd think it was boring enough to put you to sleep but just barely captivating enough to keep you awake. VITAL STATS: Anyone else remember when stories.com/WDC's background was bright yellow? I do. It almost seems murderous to think that that's what I'd stare at for a few hours each day back then. Physical therapy today. Finally got to experience one of those "therapeutic massages"...which kinda felt weird, almost like it was wrong for the therapist lady to be doing that to my leg in public. Until she hit the part of my foot where the screws are popping out. Then it was over for this kid. And that's all I've got for today. Gonna read a little bit I think, and call it an early day. Trying to save up a little for "Funny/Factual Friday", since last Friday wasn't great. Maybe kick back when I get home and ice down the leg some. Peace, left foot and then right foot and repeat, and GOODNIGHT NOW!! |
| 30DBC PROMPT: "What are five things you want to see or do before it's too late?" What's up everybody? I love today's prompt, for selfish reasons, of course. Why else would I love something? I get to break out the image I created specifically for the "Invalid Item" ! Now, before you stop everything you're doing and want me to do creative things for you, just keep in mind I have next to no idea what I'm doing or how I did it. It's no Rembrandt or Picasso; in fact it's rather the opposite. In fact, I'm sure if cavemen had computers, they could've done a better job than myself. Anyway, onward toward today's "30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS" prompt, shall we? 1) I want to know what love is, and I want you to show me. I think everyone at some point in their life gets on a quest for this. It's a search for sharing, compatibility, and really, eventually should evolve into a contest over who makes the best sandwiches. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=loWXMtjUZWM 2) Drain you. I don't care what you think unless it's about me...actually, that's a lie. I do care what you think, but I'll probably never chew your meat for you. Unless we become birds, and I'm your parent bird. Ok, that's just weird. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=988Cst8qXGo 3) Stop, collaborate and listen. I think an important part of being a good conversationalist is also being a good listener. And having something interesting to talk about. Like how some people can ride one ripped-off guitar riff to success and fame for years and years, while I'm still ridin' the bus. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A-LNT1r6GRA 4) Confide with Sly. And for your mama, your papa, and your daughter, you'll do a little dance and then you'll drink a little water when I'm done. My socks will, however, stay on my feet where they belong. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Mr_uHJPUlO8 5) Find the answer to one of life's most enduring and eternal questions. I think we're all put here for a reason. Sometimes I wonder what mine was. Then I think about this and remind myself that maybe I do have a purpose after all. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=He82NBjJqf8 Ladies and gentlemen, I hope I have accurately and sufficiently responded to this prompt in a satisfactory manner. It is with great pleasure that I now move on. BCF PROMPT: "Tell us about a book you can read again and again without getting bored — what is it that speaks to you?" One book that I can read over and over again? Besides the owner's manual of my old Sony 5-disc mini-system with high-speed dubbing from cd to cassette with programmable tracks? Cuz every damn time I made a mix-tape for anyone, I could never remember what sequence of buttons to press. And I did it often enough that you think I would've memorized it. But if you're referring to a book published more for people who read actual books, let's go with The Catcher In The Rye by J.D. Salinger. I feel like I was one of the few kids (outside of every kid I sat through an English class with) who didn't have to read this in high school. It may have still been banned back then, actually. I first read it in my late 20's, and couldn't understand what was so bad about it...hell, I cut school from time to time and drank alcohol as a teenager...didn't a lot of us? I know I'm going to have to read it again soon. I think what really pulled me in was everything Holden Caulfield did during his extraordinary journey...he's one of the few literary characters I've read where I really feel like I'm in his shoes, going along for the ride. I know metaphorically there's all kinds of other stuff going on, but because it's been so long since I've read it I'm not going to get into that. Very few books can hold my attention span for more than a few minutes...this was one I didn't want to put down. Oh, and ladies, I'm forewarning you now in case any of you ever wind up carrying a child of mine and it happens to be a boy: first name, Holden; middle name, Caulfield. Believe that. MUSICAL BREAK!! I had to wait like, 15 years for Chinese Democracy, and this was the best Axl could do for me? That's 15 years of my life I won't get back, Axl. VITAL STATS: Wow...I, uhhh, got nothin' today, actually. Met a friend for lunch, hung out a little, and here I am. I'm sure I'll be all sortsa fun tomorrow though, once I get done with physical therapy . As for tonight I think I might head over to CVS and then home to watch a movie and try to get to bed (and sleep the whole night through) at a reasonable hour. As for all y'all, peace, wax chumps like a candle, and GOODNIGHT NOW!! |
| 30DBC PROMPT: "Which form of writing are you most afraid to try? What about it scares you and do you think you will ever attempt it in the future?" What's up folks? An old school War Chest battle prompt about skills and my lack thereof, that's what's up. The "30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS" hangs one high over the plate, and watch me take a deep cut.I've probably taken writing in general seriously for about twenty years or so, give or take. I've tried a few things here and there. I know what works for me and what doesn't. To start and succeed is to learn where your comfort zone is. It takes time and effort and yes, occasionally failure. I can tell you what you will most likely never see me authoring: a novel. Already tried it. A few times. Can't, nae, won't do it. I'm not saying I couldn't, but I won't. One, it'll take me years. And if it's successful (here's how you put the cart in front of the horse), your publisher will want another one, sooner than later. There's an old saying in the music industry that goes something like "You have your whole life to write your first album, and a year to write your second one". And that might be true for musicians, but I know it'd take me forever just to write and edit that first one because I'd be a stickler for detail and all that happy horseshit that goes into writing what you hope would be a masterpiece. I'd be spent and want time off, and then I'd procrastinate as long as possible before trying to start up again. Two, like I said, I've already tried. I think buried somewhere in with all of my personal collections of writings are the starts to at least three different books. Novels, whatever, call them what you will. I get started, spend a few days on them, and get bored quick. I might return to them for a day or two down the road, but I know I've got stuff I started when I was 18, and the 20th anniversary of my 18th birthday is rapidly approaching without me ever having looked at that stuff again. Third, I don't read enough. I know it sounds like an excuse, but I don't, so how does that qualify me to write? Sure, I read blogs, but I write one too, says you, the person who's reading this. And last but not least, I have the attention span of a used diaper. It needs attention, and it's usually full of shit when it gets it. Meaning I would love to write a great American worldwide sensationalistic novel of great noteworthiness, but I fear both its success and failure. I don't know if I could handle either one. Ya know what I could see though? Hooking up with a fantastic editor and financial backer, and going through both this blog and "I'm Studying You" , and cherry-picking the best parts, slapping a title and cover on it, and calling it a book. Doesn't seem like a bad idea, but does any idea that becomes a bad idea ever start out as a bad idea? Nope. Bad ideas are proven through trial and tribulation that they're bad...they're just ideas, because a bad idea at the onset should never even see the light of day. Except the Spice Girls. Whoever green-lighted that idea had all the eyes in the world for talent, and no ear for it. Thankfully, they went away pretty much about as fast as they arrived.BCF PROMPT: "Do you feel that children should be sheltered from unhappiness?" 'Sup with the child-rearing prompts this month? Y'all know I have no business discussing that, even without the help of legal counsel. But ya know what I'm gonna do? I'll tell you what I'm gonna do, as a favor to the lovelies out there who do read this, I'mma oblige you an answer to this prompt. But you might not like it. My man Mario Cuomo, some time ago when he was the governor of our mediocre great state of New York, once said, "Life is not joy, but motion." And that's so true. Life isn't always puppies, rainbows, 38D's and free beer. Sometimes it's raccoons, rain, restraining orders and hepatitis. That's not for me to teach your precious children about. But sometimes, they're gonna fall off their bike. Or there might not be enough cents in a dollar for a candy bar. Mommy and daddy may not always love each other. And sometimes, you're absolutely right that it's ok to be sad once in awhile. Sadness is another part of life that you're gonna encounter one way or the other. There's no game of hopscotch or double-dutch big enough to get away from it. Now here's where I get scientific...and I was never good at science to begin with (another reason why you shouldn't be allowin' me to give y'all parenting tips). The magnificent Isaac Newton once dropped this gem: "For every action, there is always an equal and opposite reaction." Dude nailed it. Sure, be sad. Be happy. Don't give a damn. Of the three, you're bound to be right at least 33.3% of the time. Remember that, and you'll still be wrong approximately 66.7% of the time, but you might feel a little better about feeling unhappy. And that's my word. MUSICAL BREAK!!  I don't care what anyone says...I stand behind my claim that this song is on one of the greatest albums not only of my generation, but of all time. There will never be another album like Paul's Boutique, ever. (In "Sandlot" voice,) Forrrr-Evvvv-ERRRR. I speak in terms of influence, lyricism, style, and all the other qualities that separate this work from the masses. And when a group has the grapes to sample the almighty Beatles, it's that much better.  RIP, MCA.  http://www.bkmag.com/BrooklynAbridged/archives/2013/05/06/there-is-now-an-adam-y...VITAL STATS:  It's totally against my nature to wear watches, but I'd totally rock one of these ('til it turns into a magnet for walls, sharp objects, and paint). http://gothamist.com/2013/05/07/beastie_boys_watch_party.phpWow, took me longer to bang out today's entry than I thought. Oh well...good thing I've got time today. Gonna see what you cats are up to. Peace, take the long way home, and GOODNIGHT NOW!! |
| 30DBC PROMPT: "Yesterday was Cinco de Mayo, or the Day of the Dead. Research the holiday and some of the traditions. Do you celebrate it? On the topic of holiday traditions, what is the most preposterous holiday tradition you continue to celebrate? (This does not have to be restricted to Cinco de Mayo traditions.)" What's up folks? I'm ready for the back half of today's double-dip, with a bit of a shocker... I don't really celebrate Cinco de Mayo.  I know, right? Try to keep it together here folks, for my sake.Why? Because it closed down. http://www.urbanspoon.com/r/42/460440/restaurant/Buffalo/5-de-Mayo-Mexican-Grill... It was one of my favorite places in town to eat. It made me very sad, as someone who doesn't like to make decisions, when we drove over there for dinner one night at my behest, only to find an empty parking lot. "Jackpot!" I thought. No waiting! And no workers either. Cuz there was no longer any business happening there. I hate it when I finally get a taste for something after not having it for awhile, and then not being able to have it when I'm good and ready to have it. The next closest similar restaurant was http://www.urbanspoon.com/r/42/461112/restaurant/Buffalo/Williamsville/La-Toltec..., which was equally as good it its own right, but it was 20 minutes in the opposite direction. And I don't like going in the opposite direction. I think I have a phobia of wasted time and steps. And, we probably would've easily passed 25 different restaurants going from our original choice to the next closest thing...including Taco Bell and Buffalo's legendary own Mighty Taco. But when you're craving real, authentic Mexican food, fast food tacos just don't really cut it. Alas, there was to be no http://www.crownimportsllc.com/ourbrands/negramodelo.htm for me that night. If you're American, and I catch you on a Mexican island drinking a Corona, I'm gonna take your sun tan lotion, write "USA" on your chest with it, and wait for you to get robbed. Hell, I might even rob you. Why not just go into the backwoods with a Budweiser? Or Canada with a Molson or Labbatt? Be different. Be original. Be daring. Drink something with a little flavor. Not Corona. But anyway, now that I've gone woefully off-target (and that's with trying to get you to admit I was even close in the first place), "preposterous holiday traditions", says you? Gimme a sec to think of one. I think we covered this around Christmastime actually, where any family function wasn't really a holiday or get-together until my crazy Italian grandma Rosie went off on anyone for no reason. I'm not gonna bore you with rehashing those details. Let's see... Yeah, ok, got one. Sorta. I don't really know how much this still gets celebrated in out family anymore, cuz the kids are all grown, the parents are all split, and nobody cares anymore. But every Christmas we'd have the "Christmas Pickle". It was an ornament that looked like a little pickle, and every year it was hidden somewhere on the tree, probably on Christmas Eve. The next morning, after opening the presents, whoever found the pickle got an extra present. I don't remember what the extra present usually was...it was never anything fancy. Kinda like a token gift; something that wasn't gender- or person-specific, so any one of us could participate and not worry about what ya got if ya found it. I know it sounds crazy silly, but trust me. Add a tiny, hidden pickle to anything you do at any time of year, and automatically, for some unknown reason, the event becomes 25% more fun. BCF PROMPT: "Have you ever had a random encounter or fleeting moment with a stranger that stuck with you?" Living in the heart of the "downtown" area of a small town, you see a lot of things. Add to that fact that there's a higher rate of the mentally ill walking around here than where I'm originally from, and yes, two days are very seldom alike. Although I've had plenty of encounters with the highly unstablest of Cortland's finest, I've yet to have a true encounter with a stranger who has moved me in some fashion that wasn't pure anger or agitation. And that's fine; it's probably my fault and the "don't talk to or look at me" vibe I give off. Which is for the better of everyone involved, probably. What really bugs me though are the close-talkers. I'm fairly sure there was an episode of Seinfeld about this, but for the uninitiated, let me try to diagram this up for you as best as possible: MY SPACE DON'T LET THEM COINCIDE YOUR SPACE That means respect my boundaries. You can talk to me, but from a safe distance. If you spray it instead of saying it, I don't want your spit on me. And don't touch me, especially if I don't know you. That, I know I've had the sarcastic joy of sharing before. There is a man who brings his adult son to the library often so the kid can use the computer while the dad reads his book. I get it. It's this part of the story that I'm ok with. And I have no problem with the kid, who has some kind of obvious handicapability. It's the dad I can't stand. He's retired, probably in his 60's...I know someone here who used to work with him, so he's not an entirely unintelligent man. But he doesn't know his off switch, apparently. I can probably count on both hands the number of times I've seen him in action with others where I know I might've slapped the tastelessness outta his mouth had he treated me in such a way. For real. He's the kind of guy that will walk up to you while you're reading the jacket of a book or scanning the newspaper, and if you don't see him right away, will stick his hand two inches in front of your face to get your attention. Or he'll stand directly in front of you and wave, even if you don't see him, and he won't make a sound. There's generally a small time limit you're allowed to do this...but not longer than it takes for you to say, "Hey, how are you?" And when he does start talking, yes, he's uncomfortably close. He's not even talking to me, and I'm uncomfortable noticing how uncomfortable his conversation partner has to be. Thankfully, he has no reason to close-talk to me. Or far-talk. Or inside-voice. Or any voice. And now that I've totally missed the point, I'll move on. MUSICAL BREAK!! Oh my....I don't know if I should be offended or be pissing myself with laughter over this. Since I'm not of Mexican descent and not a fan of smelling like urine, I shall do neither. But I will rue the fact that I didn't come across this yesterday. Can any of my Spanish-speaking amigos confirm or deny that the subtitles are indeed legit? Please and thank you. VITAL STATS: Another space theory, if you will: Alright, I've bothered you people enough for one day. Time to find other things in society that bother me. Peace, your SMS inbox is full, and GOODNIGHT NOW!! |
| 30DBC PROMPT: "Blog. Tell us about your week. Include your favorite blog entry from your fellow challengers from the preceding week and, most importantly, why." Sorry folks, I didn't forget about y'all. I just didn't feel like seeking out internet access yesterday. In fact, I did a lot of nothin' with my time and self yesterday. And it felt fantastic. But that also means I'm an entry behind, so this one might be a little short. My choice for the entry deemed to be relevant or stuck with me the most or however we used to say it back in the days old the old "30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS" , as selected from my fellow challengers this month, is "The best birthday ever..." by Elle - on hiatus . My logic is simple. I think I read most of the entries that day (and if I missed yours, my bad). It seemed as though a lot of us really didn't have good, positive experiences to relate...sort of defeating the purpose of "Funny Friday". And that's ok; I'm sure it wasn't intentional. Although there were some quality stories shared, Elle's stood out from the rest of that day's crop of entries because it really seemed to fit the spirit of the day more than any of the other entries I saw. But that's just my opinion. And that's why I get to write this stuff under my name. Don't like it? Go back to your own blog!! MUSICAL BREAK!!  As much as I love the original version of this song, this one is amazing...stark and beautiful compared to Radiohead's lush arrangement. Plus, there's something wonderfully gorgeous about Regina I can't quite place.  VITAL STATS:  Hold tight...I'm gonna take a short break, maybe grab some lunch or read the rest of the Sunday Funday Review entries, and come back with some more 30DBC/BCF awesomesauce... |
| 30DBC PROMPT: "Write a story about a blogger who only gets cryptic comments from one mysterious person and no one else." Hey folks, what's up? The prompts today are either one of two things: more challenging than they look, or easier than I think. The "30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS" prompt sounds like I should be going 21st century Edgar Allan Poe on my laptop or something. Like there's a monster hiding under my mouse, waiting to stab me with giant rose thorns. Wow. Too much time on my hands and no ambition. THAT, my friends, is the scary part of the proposition. Let's see how this plays out. So this guy decides to start writing a blog because, what the hell, no one's reading his poetry anyway (so little so that he doesn't even know what to poeticize anymore, leading to writer's block), and if no one's reading, nobody'll notice his blog out of the 48,662,718 other known-of blogs in the internetosphere. Each day he gives a detailed description of the madness in his life. And each day, his views increase by two. Are two people reading it, or is one person reading it twice? This puzzles him. He tries frantically to find out where his views are coming from, but when the clicks away at his attempts to track the hits, he gets the infamous Windows' "white screen of death": This page cannot be displayed. He's so used to not being noticed that he didn't even realize for the last week of entries he'd had the number "1" next to the word "comment". Dude was equal parts stunned and scared. What if they liked his work? What if they didn't? His curiosity was out of control, and his fingers trembled upon left-clicking his mouse to read what someone thought of his thoughts. Sunday: From Itsagirlnoalady: "I am fascinated by your dangerous writing style." His reply was a simple thank you, with a smiley face written sideways from a keyboard just like all the kids do these days. Monday: From Itsagirlnoalady: "I too share your pity and contempt of all things not like you. You are rabid and crumpling." He shook his head; he knew it was a compliment but was unable to formulate a response. Tuesday: From Itsagirlnoalady: "Profound and cautious today. I hope it's not common. I feel like an extension of your cavernous soul." This made the guy smile. He didn't even know he had a soul, much less one with caverns. Wednesday: From Itsagirlnoalady: "Oooohh, I'm squealing on the inside. I'm preparing my womb now for the eventual arrival of the first of hopefully many love childs." He was too impressed at this point with his own bland words to care that this woman was slowly going batshit over him. Thursday: From Itsagirlnoalady: "Your posts have decorated an entire room of my basement. I've created a face made out of pictures of your face and put you on every mirror." He searched his Facebook page to find that there was only one known picture of himself on the entire webs of the wide world. A modest picture at that. Yet when he tried to email her at the address she listed in order to comment, his emails were getting returned. Friday: From Itsagirlnoalady: "I beseech you to reveal more of yourself to me! Perhaps we can meet at the coffee shop across from your grandfather's brother's cousin's uncle's roommate's babymomma's doctor's office tonight at 6pm? I want to fondle you with my eyes." Dude was kinda stoked about this...until he got to the coffee shop at 5:55pm and it was closed. He waited for almost an hour with a rose in his hand. Every five minutes a petal would fall off and shrivel on the pavement, until there was nothing but a stem that he tossed in the street. Saturday: From Itsagirlnoalady: "You must forgive me. I appear to have gotten you confused with an older gentleman, the Sixtyfiver. I don't know how I could've been so foolish in my transposition of worded numbers. I'm ashamed." He stared at the words for a second, as if they were little curses poking pins into his eyeballs. In a slow motion he closed his computer screen, and instantly all the windows of the building he was in blew out. It was the beginning of the end of the world. Man. I hate writing fiction. BCF PROMPT: "Do you believe the end of the world will come to pass during your lifetime?" Oh man. I don't even know. A tough "Blogging Circle of Friends " prompt also. Well, we survived that Mayan scare thing last December, right? Surely someone's gotta 'nother date in mind. Hollywood's depicted a gajillion different ways the world's gonna end, with and without survivors. REM was singing "It's The End Of The World As We Know It (And I Feel Fine)" for, like, 20 years or so 'til they broke up. And yet all I know is today I got up and put my feet on the ground and the building didn't collapse and I made it to a store and wasn't mauled by a zombie or kissed by a glittery vampire or had a car hurled at me by some hand of God or force of nature. So it looks like we're pretty safe. Or are we? Who knows anymore. People are making bombs with pressure cookers? Damn! Maybe stores need to run background checks on kitchen appliance purchases. Watch out for everyone wearing backwards baseball caps! Screw that. The world's gonna end someday. The depression I get sometimes wants me to be around when it happens, and sooner rather than later. But the other side of me says the longer I sit around like I'm locked in a closet waiting for that to happen just means the terrorists win. And they shouldn't win. At least not when me and some of the rest of us are still around, kickin' it true school. MUSICAL BREAK!! Ok, hands up if you guessed REM! Wrong. You may now leave the classroom. VITAL STATS:  That awkward moment when you're done with having a lousy day and you make eye contact with a gorgeous woman wearing some kind of gothic sundress sitting on a stoop...and she's talking on her phone and crying because from the way it sounds, her lover was breaking up with her. You just keep walking. Or that other awkward moment when you're sitting at a table in the library and a pretty girl walks in and smiles at you...until she comes around the side of the copy machine and she's about eight months pregnant. Or that really awkward moment when you're in the magazine aisle at the store and a cute chick mouths the word "hi" at you...while she's reading Teen People. Yes, all of these things have happened to me in the last 24 hours. Anytime you're ready, global disaster! (Kidding. Sorta.)Ok, now that I'm probably going to some kind of Hell today, I'll leave you all to ponder the merits of my wordology down below in the comments section. Fire away! Peace, put the toilet seat down, and GOODNIGHT NOW!! |
| 30DBC PROMPT: "Write the story of being tricked by someone you trusted. How did it make you feel in that moment and are you able to laugh about it now?" What's up y'all? Let me tell ya, I'm in no mood today. Cranky doesn't even scratch the surface. I slept wrong, so my neck is sore. I had an hour of physical therapy, which has me wishing I was still in a cast up to my knee just so I won't have to feel how much my ankle burns. Then I went to Kinney to pick up a script and the 15-20 minute wait turned into nearly an hour. So let's just effing do this up. Stories about being tricked by someone I trusted generally piss me off. I may be a friendly person, but I'm not necessarily a trusting person anyway. If I'm behind you, I'm all-in. But if there's a remote chance I could get screwed somehow, I usually manage to make it happen, so by nature I guess that means I have trust issues. This probably isn't the feel-good topic of the day for me. "Funny Friday" could probably go find itself another eff word and do that to itself. Repeatedly. With a wiffle ball bat. I hate telling this story because it's really not funny, and it still kinda pisses me off to think about it (so I really try not to), but it's one of the only instances I can recall where I was tricked. And we don't laugh about it. We just don't talk about it. I believe that's known to grown-ups as "we moved on", but I'm not really good at this "being a grown-up" gig. Y'all remember that Manti Te'o story from a few months ago? Where he had this supposed online relationship that turned out to be some dude jerkin' his chain? http://espn.go.com/college-football/story/_/id/8851033/story-manti-teo-girlfrien... I have a similar story. Ok, I wasn't in love, and nobody died, but there was a definite case of someone advertising themselves as being someone they were not. The sick part about it is they took to this here stack of internet chicanery that I author to promote their dirty agenda. A friend, who will not be named for this entry, created a fake WDC account in order to have conversations with me that she felt, as being herself, she couldn't have. Whether she could or could not is neither here, there nor on Mars, but whatever. Eventually, there was an evident tone that this person knew something about me that I was unaware of. It got to the point that she could no longer hide the ruse from me, and had to admit her evil, evil ways...I mean, who wakes up in the morning and says, "Hey, I'm gonna lie repeatedly to the guy who has problems trusting people, because I want to hear things he probably won't tell me ever anyway"? Took me some time, but I did eventually get over it. Unless "getting over it" means something other than "it still aggravates the fuck outta me when I think about it". So I think that means it's about that time where this section of today's entry comes to a "crashing into a brick wall" kind of ending. BCF PROMPT: "What's the one habit you'd change about yourself, if you could simply flick a switch and have it happen?" Cuz I'm in the mood to be introspective about my faults too. Geez. Eh, win some days, get your ass handed to you in a sequined plastic bag some days. At least I should be so lucky that it's sequined today and doesn't say "Wal-Mart".Maybe I should flick the "don't be a dick to people when you don't get enough sleep" switch. I'd mount that sumbitch right over my bed and slap it as soon as I wake up. Better yet, hows about a switch I can flip so I just fall asleep immediately, whenever I want? I really think that might've solved at least 25% of my problems today. Or a switch that makes me want to get along better with people. Oh wait, there's a name for that. It's called booze. Here's an idea: why not a switch that just gets people drunk without having to consume alcohol? No calories, no hangover, and all the fun of bein' rip-stinkin' sauced up. Just slap that button on your desk at work and see how much more fun your job becomes. Make it affordable, and watch it sell off the shelves. There...I just fixed the damn economy too. Look at me go! MUSICAL BREAK!! From probably the last really good album this band made. And it's probably not healthy that I walk around like this sometimes most of the time. Ok, well, I don't fly through newsstands or get hit by busses, but you know what I mean.  VITAL STATS:  Why do some Youtube videos even try to have ads at the beginning of them, if you have the option of skipping the ad after five seconds (and let's be honest, when you're waiting for your "Cute Cat Of The Decade" video to load for the 37th time, are you really thinking, "Gee, maybe I should make my macaroni and cheese look like that!"? I didn't think so.)? If you get on a bus and you're so confused and unsure of where you're going because you've spent the last three days with your cable out and now you only get four channels while the rest are "black", maybe you just need to chill and read a fucking book or two. Yes, it's been those kinds of idiots trying to get along with me in the general population today. People should know better than to talk on their cell phones in public. The people who don't know better always share way too much information. With their insurance provider. At the pharmacy, which is mad wicked busy. While crying. Next to me. And yet it's funny to me when fat people cry, for some reason. Go ahead, tell me how terrible I am. I kinda really don't care today.Good lord, I need to go home. Can I get a reset switch? Maybe a do-over? No, wait...no do-overs unless there's a guaranteed different result. Word. Alrightey yo...peace, always pass on the right, and GOODNIGHT NOW!! |
| 30DBC PROMPT: "Give your opinion on the age "children" should be allowed to read material about death, killing, sex, recreational drugs, etc. In your entry, discuss your thoughts on the WDC rating. Is it enough?" Wow! How's it goin' out there? Tough prompt we've got staring back at us from the blank recesses of the text input panel thingey. Why? Cuz asking me for advice on how to raise your kids is like asking a criminal for financial advice. It's true. I'm a shortly-grown adult with no kids. I hardly have the frame of reference necessary to get myself out of bed sometimes, let alone try to answer this prompt. But, since toying with prompts is kinda what I do anyway, here goes. I think, as much as it was intended to be shielded from me for as long as humanly possible, I was probably exposed to death, killing, sex and drugs earlier than those presiding over me would've liked. (In the interest of not typing so damn much, these vices will hereby be referred to as "DKS&D". Keep the snickering to a minimum.) The prompt, however, only suggests exposure through reading, and not through other mediums such as television or movies. I have to argue it's almost harder to control what kids read rather than what they watch; there's little parental guidance going on at the library of your kids' schools. You can set limits on televisions over what stations they can and can't flip to, but you can't keep a 13-year-old out of the romance, mystery or sci-fi sections of bookstores, ya dig me? Here's my real point. I was 11, maybe in sixth grade, and all the rage was the book Forever by Judy Blume. This book was so popular maybe ten years after it was first published that there was a waiting list at my school's library for it, and all the copies at the local library were out. If you're not familiar with the book, here's the Wikipedia link: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Forever..._(novel) Why was this book so popular? What was it really about? Nobody could actually tell you, because the only pages anyone ever read were the 10-12 pages of "good parts" that someone took the time to underline with a pen. And by "good parts", I mean the graphic sexual content. Now, I understand that this stuff happens in real life, and this book was geared for young adults, but shouldn't someone, say, a librarian, have known that this content probably wasn't appropriate for the mostly 10- or 11-year-olds in my school, and had the copies sent from the middle school to the junior high? Just sayin'. My thoughts? It's hard to put a physical age on what's right for a kid to come across, let alone control what they're reading. I think a better gauge would be the emotional maturity of the kid, and hopefully, hopefully, a parent knows that. Then again, doesn't the teenage pregnancy rate rise almost every year? You can't just say, "13 is the legal age to expose kids to DKS&D" (stop snickering!), because not all kids are ready to process that stuff the same way. Even if I read Judy Blume's softcore pseudo-porn at age 11, and I turned out just fine. As for the WDC rating system, I don't have many qualms with it. That's not to say I haven't butted heads with it from time to time, or come across something where the rating was inappropriate. As important as it is for an author to have a "ratings guideline", it's just as important to someone policing the policies to be fair and consistent. That's all I've ever asked when someone's raised a question about my ratings. FUN FACT! One of the original pilot episodes for the children's television series The Muppet Show was actually targeted to an adult audience and was called "Sex And Violence". No joke. If you watch the first season on dvd, it's one of the bonus special features. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ELHkePIEJnk That's a link to the first part of the episode...not too far off from the actual Muppet Show we know, but not too close either. BCF PROMPT: "What is your greatest weakness?" I'm not applying for the job, I was drafted for the mission . No, seriously, that does kinda sound like something you'd expect to hear in a job interview, or while seated on the couch at The Tonight Show. Luckily, I won't be taking any silver bullets soon, so I don't mind exposing any weaknesses in fear of someone trying to take me out.I think too much, too grand, and exhibit dissatisfaction at my lack of follow-through. Sounds like a lot. Maybe it is. And perhaps if this were a chaotic and crippling weakness, my entry would end here, and I'd sulk for the rest of the day thinking how sucky today was. But I am learning to overcome my weaknesses! Growing mentally, and being strong in the face of my unaccomplishments! (Not a real word, so don't bother.) Pushing ahead! Going forward! Being a better person. Even if I read 10-12 pages of Judy Blume's softcore pseudo-porn at age 11! Oh, and I also have a weakness for girls with corkscrewy curls, preferably blonde. MUSICAL BREAK!! Could there be a more aptly titled song for today's entry? Probably. I'm just too lazy to look for one.  VITAL STATS:  Eh, I got nothin' today. Haven't seen a newspaper yet, so no crazy stories to share. Yes, I still disseminate most of my news through a physical newspaper. You know...news, but it's printed...on paper. Sounds crazy, but it's true. Shocking.Ok, you've had about enough of me for another day. I'm off to try and stay out of trouble, but I'm not exactly counting that among my strengths. I'll catch you all later. Peace, check the expiration dates before you buy, and GOODNIGHT NOW!! |
| 30DBC PROMPT: "What does spring mean to you? Recount one of your most fond springtime memories." What's up folks? Good to be back here enjoying May with all y'all. Let's see...I think it was still snowing last time I stopped by, but Microsoft's weather app tells me we might stretch into the 70's today. Whatever that means. Maybe spring has finally sprung...into summer. Ahhh, spring. In the days of my youth I would get more romantic as the temperatures rose. The smell of acid rain washing dirty snow down the sewer drains. Stepping onto the lawn, where the mud caked up an inch high on my Nikes. The sound of umpires on baseball diamonds calling games because there was still six inches of snow on the warning track of the outfield. And the girls...the girls walking down to the bars on Chippewa St. in downtown Buffalo on a Friday night, barely legal and barely walking in high heels, short skirts and shoulderless tops in 40-degree chill, unable to talk because they're shivering. Silly girls. Yes, it's that time of year where I dispense the most important advice I might give all spring. Ladies, this is especially directed at you, and you know who you are. Your cleavage is where your boobs meet. It's not a wallet nor a purse. It's not meant to hold your cell phone, camera or money (and exceptions are made for the certain type of "specially trained" women who by trade earn money by putting it in their underwear). Bras are meant for breasts. Next time I see a woman reaching into her chestal area to retrieve a sweaty ten dollar bill at Burger King for her extra value meal while her kids are running around as if The King himself were the monster under the bed, I'm kidnapping them and selling the brats on Craigslist in exchange for a carton of Marlboros and an Asian backrub. This message is brought to you out of the kindness of my heart and my love of taste and decency. Also, you should know that some things just can't be unseen once they're seen. Thank you, and enjoy your spring. BCF PROMPT: "Have you ever wondered what it would be like to be a member of the opposite sex for a day? What do you think life would be like?" Have I ever tried to wear a bra and stick money down it? If that's what you're asking me, then no. Maybe I'm the one with the diseased mind, but yeah, I think it's normal to be curious. I'm sure...in fact I know, that one year in high school I dressed up as a girl for Halloween. And men don't just dress up "like" girls. They go all-out. What men really want in a woman can likely be mirrored by how they emulate one in costume. I looked like a whore. An ugly whore with treetrunk calves that would've devoured a bottle of Nair and went back for seconds. I'm pretty sure I was in tenth or eleventh grade. It was a time when no one could wear shorts to school, but girls could wear skirts . The life of an administrator must've been rough.Anyway, I borrowed a super short black miniskirt, a tight white top, and a bra from the girl I was seeing at the time. And I pimped myself out pretty good. I stuffed that bra so much the buttons were threatening mutiny from the rest of the top. I'd never had my ass grabbed in public so many times. My Spanish teacher threw me out of class and made me change...and all I had were my gym shorts. So I got away with gym shorts for the day. It was a meaningful experience actually. It taught me that it's not easy to be a woman...and all I had to deal with were catcalls and all the attention that comes with a nice butt and a big rack. I didn't have to get menstrual or cyclic or bitchy or have babies or wonder if my outfit made me look fat. Sure, I went the exploitation route, but what the hell, if guys like other guys dressed up in a tight skirt and a 5 o'clock shadow, then chin up ladies...there's hope for you all. Let your inner beauty shine, and nobody will care about all the chocolate you eat when no one's lookin'. MUSICAL BREAK!!  I know I'm cheating and I probably post this song every spring, but what the hell? We need a reason to celebrate after the crappy winter.  VITAL STATS: Bad news...had a follow-up appointment on my ankle yesterday. The doctor thinks it'll be another month before I can get around pain-free and without limping. Turns out I've got syndesmosis, which means the ligaments I tore when the fibula fractured and the ankle dislocated have healed into a thickened band, making movement a big issue. And looking at the x-ray that was taken yesterday and comparing it to the first x-ray with all the screws in my leg, it looks like the remaining bottom two screws are just below the surface of the skin. To quote the doc, "We'll be pushing this thing into the summer." http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Syndesmosis Best wishes to blainecindy and her husband, and a hope for a much better May health-wise! Everyone should check out "Invalid Item" , which I did a feature for (shameless plug). And read the featured entries for the month...good stuff in there from other bloggers I wouldn't have known about were it not for our newsletter. When you're done, stop by "Blogging Bliss Newsletter Forum" and let the editors know what you think...we're always looking for suggestions, ideas, and favorite pieces.Ok y'all, that wraps things up for me. Be safe, don't talk to strangers or reply when they rant at you, peace, and GOODNIGHT NOW!! |
| 30DBC PROMPT: "What's the worst present you've ever received, and what did you end up doing with it?" Good afternoon friends, lovers and strangers. Let's see...I could've chosen the other option for today's prompt, which would include my feelings on gun control. I'll be totally honest...I like the bagging on bad gifts better than telling you how I feel about guns. My ammunition is much more severe than anything I could blast out of metal toward a target. So let's go have some fun, shall we? I've received two gifts in the course of my gift-receiving days that would fall under the category "means well, but totally got it wrong". Ironically, they both came from the mothers of women I'm no longer dating. Note to future ex-girlfriends: pay attention, or wind up being revered as an enemy of the great state of Fivesixer  .It's widely known among my small circle of circles that I do not care to partake in the adventures of cinematography that require my presence at their initial runs in overhyped, overpriced palatial empires known commonly as "movie theaters". If I wanted to pay $12 to fall asleep, I'd buy a year's worth of Ambien with my prescription coverage and pray that it actually works the way it's supposed to, let alone $8 for a grocery bag full of popcorn, $4 for approximately eight Sour Patch Kids, and $9 for a 12-pack of Mountain Dew casually served in a pail that could've been used to mop the damn floor. And to think that some girls think "dinner and a movie" requires "dinner" and "a movie" to be held in separate venues. That doesn't exactly scream "economical" to this kid, but it does explain the stench of "single adult male" on me. See how I can put two and two together sometimes? Well, one Christmas, after making it perfectly clear that I wasn't into the whole theater experience, one woman's generous mother gave me a large amount of movie theater passes in the form of gift certificates that were good for admission and admission only...roughly enough for us to see at least two movies apiece, without the added fee of concessions. I can't sit still long enough to pay attention to my own thoughts without some kind of beverage, let alone someone else's cinematic ideals. Needless to say, while being thankful, I was heartily non-plussed. But the worst part? Because the passes came from her mother, I was informed that I was not really allowed to pick the movie that I was eventually cajoled into attending. That is why, to this very day, I still haven't seen the bio-pic Ali, and my dislike for all things Harry Potter rages on long after his freakishly wizardly weirdness has graduated from adolescence and into relative obscurity outside ABC's Family channel. The other poorly planned gift? Allow me to premise this by saying that I am, since '85, a fan of the New York Mets. It's obvious to all I encounter when talking about baseball. Even more so than my love of all things Mr. Met is my utter hatred for that other team in New York, (maybe you've heard of them) the Yankees. It's likely that I hate the Yankees more than I love the Mets. This is not entirely meant to slander anyone or their family, but let's just assume that their last name sounds an awful lot like "Mets". Let's picture being at a ballpark together where this team is actually playing. I've got on a jersey and a hat proclaiming my fanship. I have a vested interest beyond casual game-watching. Only had I painted my face orange and blue could I have worn my love more appropriately, but I don't need to go that far. Fast-forward to a gift-giving occasion that I don't entirely recall. We had just moved into a house, and I was in the process of decorating my ManCave. I received a large, wrapped gift. I was stunned that the family would do something so nice for me! I unwrapped it...a beautifully framed picture of legendary Yankee Joe DiMaggio. I can only imagine the look on my face. It must've been something like watching someone giving birth and then realizing what you thought was your kid looked an awful lot like the mailman. I really don't think I could've seen that coming from a mile away. And what became of the gifts? Told the first woman to have a girls' night with the remaining passes when she started treating me more like a roommate and less of a boyfriend. And the second? If it hasn't been sold, donated or burned with most of the rest of my belongings, I don't quite care...chalk it up to another of the many promises left forever unkept. And I'm not the least bitter anymore. Well, maybe a little with the latter. BCF PROMPT: "If you ran away and joined the circus, what would your role be? Would you run a concession? Would you train elephants? Be a clown? Ringmaster? What and why?" Imaginative idea, to say the least. I could argue that I haven't been to a circus in so long that I don't even remember what it's like or how it really goes down, other than general stereotypical circuses (or is it circusii...can we get a verification on the plural please?). I can also say I've worked in retail establishments for early morning, day-after-Thanksgiving ("Black Friday") sales events, which no matter how well-planned, always evolve into some bohemian three-ring circus executed more by the patrons than the poor souls trying to make a living by managing these affairs. That said, I would probably be the bumbling ringmaster of "The Greatest Show On Earth Gone Horribly Wrong". See, the way things happen with my luck, the bearded lady would shave, the fire-eater would catch fire, the elephants would go on strike, I'd be forced to step in for the clown that called in sick, the trapeze artists would go up and not come down, the crowd would revolt and bumrush the fairways and stages, it'd be my fault as ringmaster and I'd get shit-canned, causing me to go on unemployment, my home would get foreclosed because nobody hires out-of-work ringmasters, I'd wind up living on the street under the half of a big top I could salvage from a screaming crowd wanting my head, get run over by a wheelchair-bound trapeze artist who came down beyond the net, and die lonely and miserable in a home for sad clowns. The only thing that wouldn't happen? I wouldn't catch a cold, because I forgot to take off the big red nose from the substitute clown part, which ensured most of the air I took in was warm. Beats getting mauled by a tiger, or worse... http://www.usnews.com/news/offbeat/articles/2013/04/10/circus-elephant-shot-in-d... MUSICAL BREAK!!  Sometimes I can't help but wonder where some things are.  VITAL STATS:  I'm not going to speak much about what happened in Boston yesterday, other than to say it's sad and senseless. It's just sadly humbling to know that I was typing the word "Boston" in yesterday's entry as it was happening, and I didn't even know it yet. I posted my entry, opened Facebook, and immediately everything hit me. It was an eerie feeling. I'm just going to copy the words of a local musician, whose status I shared as well: "If you think that NOW is an appropriate time to advance any political view you hold dear to your cold little heart, you may want to reevaluate." Consider that to be all I'll say about it. Our thoughts are with you, Boston. And like all tragedy, we'll help you see greatness again.And with that, I'll say no more. Just make sure you tell someone, anyone, near or far, that you love them. Peace, and GOODNIGHT NOW!! |
| 30DBC PROMPT: "Do you think the weird weather we have been experiencing is an indication of global warming or something else?" What's up everybody? I don't know about you and your weather enough to want to call it weird, but I can sure as hell tell you that our weather in NY has sucked a lot lately. It's 57 degrees out, which is the warmest it's been all year. Cold and creepy and just a downright downer. Spring's been a huge disappointment thus far...and apparently these next few days are a tease, because it's going to get colder again. But I hate being that guy who talks about the weather. Chances are, you're probably not concerned with how crappy it is 'round here. But I am curious about this "global warming" idea. I'm not afraid to think there's some truth to the ideas, although I'm not willing to commit fully to the reasons behind it. An ozone layer with holes? Aerosol cans spray-painting fumes that melt ice caps? All of the hot air coming from the government? I don't know. I'm no scientist. Two winters ago I would've been all over the global warming bandwagon like it was storming the nation undefeated...Buffalo got hardly any snow that winter and it remained unseasonably warm throughout the November, December, January and February. This past year, not so much. It was a lot like winters I remember as a kid...blustery, bone-chilling and slippery. There was an article over the weekend I came across in USA Today that touched a little on climate change and its implications... http://www.usatoday.com/story/news/nation/2013/03/27/climate-change-seas/2024759... Basically, scientists are saying that global warming is happening sooner than later. I wish it'd be happening this spring a little sooner also! (And don't tell me it's cold because I'm not wearing pants...I haven't worn pants all winter and I refuse to start now.) BCF PROMPT: "The most disappointed I've ever been..." Ladies and gentlemen, I'm from Buffalo, a drinking town with a sports problem. All I know is disappointment. One only has to watch the first minute of this video to understand where I'm comin' from: Trust me when I say that watching and reliving that five minutes of my life that I'll never get back was harder than walking 15 minutes into a stiff, minus-5 degree wind just to find out that the convenience store is out of beer, newspapers and happiness. I'll only talk about two events, because that's about all my heart can handle. The 1999 Buffalo Sabres made one hell of a run...all the way to the Stanley Cup finals. My crew at work made one hell of a run following the Sabres at the Keystone Grill. When we played Boston, we didn't drink Sam Adams. When we played Canadian teams, we weren't allowed Canadian beer or whiskey (which was nearly insane because all I drank were Crown & Cokes and Labbatt's Blue at the time). Buffalo had the greatest goaltender in the world, Dominik Hasek. The team was a bunch of grinders...built more for balance than star power. The Dallas Stars were pretty good too, led by Brett Hull, only the son of the greatest hockey player ever until Wayne Gretzky came along. No goal. Those words will bring the toughest Buffalonian down to Lake Erie-like depths. Hull, with his skate clearly in the crease, nabs his own rebound, scoots around a sprawled Hasek, and scores the game winner in overtime of game six. Before the refs can even review the play, the Stars storm the ice and are handed the cup. The NHL later admitted their mistake, but it was too late. Not even a trip to Mighty Taco on the way home and a visit from the girl who at the time I was convinced was my "dream girl" could ease the pain, and if you ask me, Buffalo hockey has never quite been the same. The second event was the one that firmly baptized me into the disappointment that is the Buffalo sports culture, as I'm sure it was for many others of my generation. I believe the year was 1990. The Buffalo Bills were ripping up the league. I was a huge football fan. I couldn't wait to see the K-Gun offense led by my idol, Jim Kelly, hanging points all over the scoreboard. I'll never forget the excitement of watching them blow out the Raiders 52-3 for their first-ever AFC Championship. On to Super Bowl XXV...the biggest game of the year. We knew the Giants were going to be a tough team to beat. Buffalo had the ball on the final drive, down 20-19. With seconds to go, Buffalo was in field goal range. Out came Scott Norwood, once a beloved and reliable kicker, for the attempt. As the team held hands on the sidelines, we all gathered closer to the tv and held hands in the living room of the party we were attending. A 48-yard kick- not an easy kick by any means- was up, and it sailed wide right. Wide right. The words no fan ever wants to hear. My 14-year-old body, on its knees in front of the tv, let go of the hands I was holding and fell face-first into the rug. My hands were over my face. I didn't want to let the adults see me cry. But I was a wreck. It didn't matter that we'd get blown out in the next three Super Bowls (just going to four straight was unprecedented itself)...that was the one we were supposed to win. And I think, had we won that game, we might've been able to pull out at least one more championship during that impressive Bills stretch. Now, before you say anything, listen...I know there's worse things in the world that can happen that a team losing a game. But in Buffalo, we live or die by our teams. We invest with our wallets and our hearts, year in and year out. Even when we know it's gonna be a down year, there's eternal optimism at the beginning of the season anyway. Mondays after a Bills win, everyone's got a little extra somethin' goin' for 'em...and after a loss, the day seems just a little colder, a little drearier. Everyone talks proud when the Sabres win, and nobody says a word when they lose. That's how it goes. And I may not live in Buffalo anymore, but these teams will always be a part of me. I bleed their colors, and I know one day I'll see a championship before I die. MUSICAL BREAK!! I'm not foolish enough to think they'll make the playoffs this year after a rough start, even though they're climbing the standings...there's just not enough time with five games left...but there's always next season. GO SABRES!!  VITAL STATS: Finally remembered to make the call regarding physical therapy for my ankle...and they can't start me up 'til the 25th. So I'll keep limpin' along. It's not fun...still limited range of motion, and I can feel the lower screws under my skin. I don't like waking up in pain in the middle of the night because I twitched the wrong way. I procrastinated, but managed to get my taxes done and filed today. I didn't want to e-file, which I should've and have in years past. I did them the old-fashioned way. My sick math skills were trumped by my ability to not read things all the way through while doing my state taxes, to the point that I got so frustrated I nearly considered filing for an extension even though my federal taxes were done. And I do this every year...why, after finishing my federal forms, do I submit them before I do my state form, when I know I'll need that information anyway? What type of idiot do I have to be? (And save it with the "why didn't you do it online" crap...I didn't, ok? And it's too late to do anything about it. ) My deciding to go over my form one last time before asking for help shaved about $250 off my state return, but at least the IRS won't be trying to take more of my pennies away. I didn't mean to stay away for this long, folks. It's just been a little uninspiring for me, and I've been chillin' behind the scenes. But don't worry. You'll thank me soon enough. And that's all for today, y'all. Gonna get me a sandwich and relax. Peace, and GOODNIGHT NOW!! (And I used up my two-video maximum. This needs to be fixed, WDC, ya hear? ) |
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