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 |   A third attempt at this blogging business. |
 30-DAY BLOG CHALLENGE WINNER FOR SEPTEMBER 2011 AND APRIL 2012!!  BLOGGING CIRCLE OF FRIENDS "BLOGGER OF THE WEEK" MAY, SEPTEMBER, AND NOVEMBER 2013 JANUARY, FEBRUARY, AND JUNE 2014 After 380 entries and over 17,600 views, it was time to retire "Who Do I Think I Am??"  . Expect more of the same shenanigans and troublemaking you've come to know and love from me over the last few years. Tell all your friends, warn your family and hide this from your neighbors...this isn't your average blog.   
Thanks for stopping by and showing your support!    THIS BLOG IS NOW CLOSED.
Continue along on my journey over at "Still Figurin' Out Who I Think I Am" . |
| BCF PROMPT: "You’re having a nightmare, and have to choose between three doors. Pick one, and tell us about what you find on the other side." What's up folks? It's been quite the weekend and this prompt is in need of my attention, so let's not waste any time today, okay? My troubles attaining a decent night of sleep over the last year and a half or so have occasionally crept their way into my writing (physically...as in my actually having written about them, and luckily not mentally, as in me falling face-down into my keyboard mid-sentence, although that could be seen as physically...and speaking of which, well, since this sentence is already reaching run-on proportions, let's get into the mental aspect later). But I've been experiencing a different phenomenon as of late, and I'm not really happy about it. The nightmare. I used to have a problem years ago when, if I was tired enough in the middle of the day, I'd try to take a nap. I'd get cozy on the couch, close my eyes, and slowly drift into a phase where I wasn't quite asleep, but I wasn't awake either. I knew the music I had on was still playing, but when I fully realized I was awake, the music was off. And if I was really "lucky", I'd have what I used to call a terror-nap. I'd feel awake, but I was dreaming...or was I? The two most common terror-naps were 1) constant knocking noises that I would hear, either at the door or a nearby wall, but couldn't force myself to rise and answer or investigate...and when I finally did, there would be no evidence that someone was at the door (my door was really difficult to shut, so I'd know if someone was trying to knock and left), and I lived by myself, so there could be no possible way the wall next to me was being knocked on unless someone crawled up the basement pipes and into my kitchen sink (which was on the opposite side of the wall as my couch, and as you and I both know it's impossible to get anything up a basement pipe); and 2) millions of tiny insects with all of their tiny insect legs crawling all over me...I'd get the visual on the 65" plasma I watch my dreams on inside my head and somehow be awake enough to feel these sensations all over my body as if it were actually happening...and just like that, naptime was over. So I stopped taking naps. I'd just try to power through and catch the second, third, fourth or 12th wind of the day, and hope that I could sleep at night. Then sleep became a problem in general. And after getting some treatment for that, and having the doctor play trial and error, I got on a pretty good combo of meds in conjunction with giving up caffeine and sugary drinks. For the most part, it's been working out pretty awesome (although I do miss coffee in the mornings and Mountain Dew whenever I'm thirsty)...but there's a catch: once I fall asleep, I'm out solid for about five or six hours until I stir a little bit, roll over, and fall back asleep. That's about the time my nap dilemma and my current sleep trend have come full-circle...I'll start dreaming, or at least remembering what I dream about. And by dream, I mean nightmare. Oddly enough, and I'm not kidding, a lot of the time they involve different doors. I know this because my therapist had wanted me to start writing down my dreams, but he hasn't asked me about it since and I'm not sure where I put that notebook anyway. They almost always end up with me and my ex, either in the apartment I grew up in as a kid, or in a twisted version of my dad and stepmom's house. And the doors are always in different places, leading to rooms that may or may not have existed in their original form. Like the other night for example...it was a Sunday, and I was looking in the fridge trying to figure out what I was going to buy at the store in order to make dinner for the ex and her kids. But instead of our house, it was that childhood apartment, and my ex wasn't living there with me. My bedroom (in the dream) was my mother's room (in reality), my brother slept in what was my room, and I don't think the third bedroom existed. The tv was different, and the front entrance to the balcony wasn't there. I left to go to the store and held the door for the old lady who lived there as she came outside to hang laundry. I walked...but it wasn't the same street I remember growing up. I walked back home because I wanted to take the car, and then I went and shopped. When I came back, I couldn't park by the house, so I parked on the next block, which looked more like where I live now. I had to walk with groceries through some strange building that resembled part of a gym, part of a fire hall, part of the basement in the house I lived in with my ex, and part of a locker room. I felt lost and confused. I didn't know where I was, but I knew I didn't want to be there. I could hear guys in the locker room, and I didn't want them to know I was there...I didn't want to disrupt them. But you know how that goes...the minute you try to pull that off, that's the minute you sorta get caught. They were yelling, taunting, and calling for my attention, and I was trapped. I couldn't get out. There was no "other door" to go through. It was me, them, and a panic attack. And that's usually how I wake up. I almost have to force myself awake because I don't want to face or find out what happens next. If I'm dreaming that I'm freaked out, that's enough for me. You may as well have just thrown cold water at my face. Only, with cold water, at least I'm startled enough to try to get up and dry myself off...not turn over and try to fall back asleep while pondering what just occurred. At that point, I'm exhausted but I'm not falling back into a complete sleep, and I'm too out of it still to put my feet on the floor and try to get out of bed. That little struggle isn't an ideal way to start a day. The weirdest nightmare? Had to be the one that happened either earlier in the same morning or the morning before. I had convinced my 12th grade English teacher to commit suicide. Upon leaving him after our discussion, I fell and broke my arm. I began to feel extremely guilty about my conversation, but I had to get my arm taken care of. I came across my dad/stepmom's old house, which (as it usually does in my dreams) had three doors on the front porch instead of one. I went inside and the living room looked like you would imagine the seedy parlor of a witch doctor's would look. A woman, dressed like the "I Dream Of Genie" genie (but way uglier) said she could fix my arm, and she did so by using a drill to drive a screw through my arm with no anesthetic. I lifted my arm and all sorts of clear liquid started gushing from it...spouting, really. But I wasn't in pain. I ran back to where I last saw my teacher, but he was laying on the ground. His son was kneeling behind him and holding up his head. I began to apologize and explain, but he politely cut me off and said, "It's ok. He's gone to the other side now." That, my friends, is no way to start a day either (and in case you're wondering, the teacher in question was one of my favorites and had passed almost ten years ago of natural causes or a brief illness...if he caught you daydreaming in class or playing with the blinds on the windows, he'd make you stand on your desk while holding the cords, jump off it and yell...http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=24WjeP1El1Q). I could go on and on...no matter which door I pick, it never seems to be the right one. I see my therapist Tuesday afternoon...maybe I'll run that by him and see what he thinks. He's been talking about trying to get my in some class that helps with natural sleeping techniques...maybe this will help him actually do his job and follow up on things he says he's going to do.  MUSICAL BREAK!!  I have woken up to this feeling too many times as well.  THE DAILY BOX SCORE: Tough weekend to be a sports fan if you're in my world...  Not only are my beloved Buffalo Bills without their top draft pick, QB E.J. Manuel, but they lost another QB to a potentially career-ending concussion on Saturday. And to make matters worse, one of last year's top draft picks (and a real bright spot for the team), CB Stephon Gilmore, will probably miss the first half of the season due to wrist surgery after hurting it this weekend as well. The Bills did manage to trade for and sign some reinforcements for the QB position, but that doesn't mean I still don't feel a little bad about tweeting this after Saturday's preseason game (because in hindsight, the guy's livelihood is now in jeopardy...concussions are no joke): I then went on a bit of a Twitter binge the next day, but it wasn't nearly as entertaining. If you're really that concerned, you know where to look for it...@fivesixer.  The deities of sport had their revenge on me when it was determined earlier today NY Mets ace pitcher Matt Harvey would be shut down for the rest of the season because of a partially torn UCL (basically it's something in his elbow that makes it function like an elbow). If he has to have Tommy John surgery (where, well, here, instead of me trying to tell you what it is and why it's named: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tommy_John_surgery), he could end up missing next season as well. As one sportscaster on ESPN Radio said this evening, "It's a typical Mets story"...they weren't supposed to contend this year anyway, but at least it was an interesting season because of Harvey and some of the other young guys on the team. They lulled us in and then suckerpunched us. Come to think of it, they almost sound like Bills and Sabres teams of recent years.   Speaking of internet messages, sleep, and anything else related to those topics, I have to apologize to Wordsmitty ✍️  and other members of the Blogging Bliss editorial department I may have emailed the other night when I should've been trying to sleep. Even after taking my sleep medications, I don't immediately fall asleep. That's usually when I'll head to http://www.usatoday.com/ or http://www.grantland.com/...an article or two later, I'm ready to clock Z's. But for some reason, I felt compelled to grab a late-nite snack, and that prompted me to check my email...which led to me sending out a response, apparently. I knew in the morning I had sent out something the night before but I didn't remember what exactly until I read what Smitty sent back, prompting me to reread what I'd sent. Without divulging too much (and it's not as bad as it is embarrassing), "ballot" and "ballet" are two entirely different words (and I repeatedly kept spelling the thing used to vote with as if it were a type of dance), and while using a keyboard on a laptop in the dark after taking Ambien and Remeron is not listed among side effects, it should be right up there with the warning that it may cause people to talk, walk, have sex and drive a car in their sleep (all quoted from the papers they stick in the bag when I pick up my Ambien script). And I didn't even learn my lesson, because I was at it again the next night! I woke up the following day, and I had a notification on Facebook saying that someone liked the comment I'd made on their post. Up to that point I had no clue I'd even made the comment. Turns out I'm pretty funny, affable, and a horrible speller when I'm under the influence of sleeping pills. And speaking of newsletters, I hope everyone had a chance to see this month's "Invalid Item" ! It's our best issue yet (and I'm not just saying that because I had anything to do with it). Emily  , Brother Nature  , and especially Wordsmitty ✍️ all did a tremendous job putting it together. And we can't forget about blainecindy...welcome her back in September and wish her a Happy  Birthday!! Head over to the "Blogging Bliss Newsletter Forum" and tell the editors what you think of this month's Bliss, ask a question, share your favorite blog entries or tell them what you'd like to see in the newsletter...and who knows, your blog could be featured in the next issue. pinkbarbie and her blog were the subject of this month's feature, so check it out and be sure to leave her a comment. Thanks to her and to everyone who's supported the Blogging Bliss so far...it just keeps getting better and better, and hopefully we'll have some exciting things to share before the year is out. I need to plan my snack habits a little better. While I did manage to score a $3 coupon for CVS and have it directly applied to my card thing bonus program whatever they call it online, I realized about ten minutes before they closed that I was just about out of peanut butter and jelly right around the same time my belly was telling me it was time for peanut butter and jelly http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_Xn0aibhV9I. I managed to make it downstairs knowing full well it was raining out, but from upstairs I could not have noticed that one could've easily floated a family of beach balls comfortably down the street atop of the inches of water the rain provided. Yeah, there's no way I was that desperate for some PB&J that I'd cross the street on bad legs in the middle of that kind of rain storm. Remember when you could watch the MTV Video Music Awards and all you'd have to worry about was Britney Spears gettin' a little sauced and trying to relaunch her career as a slightly paunchy exhibitionist after ditchin' her babydaddy 'cuz his rap career sucked and he became an internet punch line? (Here's the proof: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PaiJIbweU6g} Me neither. What's a video anyway?  I guess MTV actually had more performances on the show than actual presentations of trophies. One of my cousins actually posted on Facebook this evening, "I think I should be concerned about how many adult friends I have on Facebook that commented on the VMA's."That's about all I can do for you guys tonight. Thanks...you've been a lovely audience. I need to quit pretending I'll only take a few minutes to wrote up an entry, because it never fails that I eventually take hours on end to complete one. I also need to quit screwin' around and get back into reviewing people like crazy because my WDC Upgrade's expiring in a couple of days and I'm not even close to having enough GP's this time around to keep it going. But that's all for another day, because it's late. Peace, let's see what's behind door number three, and GOODNIGHT NOW!! |
| BCF PROMPT: "What is easiest to write for you? Short story, poem, novel, other?" Happy Friday, friends, lovers, and otherwise! Ok, I'm going to get right into this prompt...I've had just under 24 hours to bounce ideas around in my head regarding it, and I'm pretty sure during 23.5 of those hours I wasn't actually bouncing anything anywhere. What you might see in between the quotation marks and in the italicized font is what I consider a question looking for a one (maybe two, at most) word answer that has to be stretched into something interesting enough to hold your attention, but not too much that it becomes boring and is tuned out by the 37th paragraph. Spoiler alert: I'll try to keep this as short as possible tonight. And if I can't totally keep out any awkward tie-ins, I'll do my best to limit them. I can't say that I've thought about what kind of writing comes easy to me. I can tell you that this entry isn't the easiest thing I've ever written. But sometimes 3,500 words can flow out a hell of a lot easier than the three lines it takes to write a haiku. Maybe the easiest way to approach this query is for me to eliminate forms of writing first, rather than shoot for a simple, straight answer that I might second-guess later (and besides, what would I fill up the rest of the leftover space with?).  Short Stories: I don't think I've actively set out to write a short story since junior high. For real. Probably because I have no interest in writing them. I view them like how I'd view myself trying to tell you a story about anything that might've happened in my life: I'm really bad at it, and it probably winds up taking me three times as long as it should because the "short, short version" is too short and leaves out too many all of the important every detail, which is critical in the function of my relating details of my life to whomever wants to listen. Besides, life is really a series of short stories with boring gaps in between them. If I wanted to write a biography, I probably would've done so years ago and be on my fourth one by now. And you're a special person if you wanna see that kind of 800x4 ppg. tome on your bookshelf. Which leads me right into... Novels:  Have you ever heard me carry on about why I hate watching movies? No? You've never seen my typewritten confession that I lack the attention span necessary to sit through an entire cinematic production? Still no? Try this: they bore me to pieces and my mind starts to wander. I'm pretty sure if I were seven years old right now, knowing what I know about my life, I'd probably be taking Attention Deficit Disorder meds on top of everything else I'm taking. How do I know this? http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oyq9ltreTCMCase in point: I just spent 15 minutes on YouTube mining footage for a video clip that lasts 16 seconds. And you want this person writing a novel? More constructively to the point, I believe on three separate occasions I've actually tried to write a novel. And then I got bored after maybe a chapter or two and never looked at them again. I probably still have them. I just don't want to write something that's about a hundred times longer than something I've already explained to you I don't feel like writing. Other: What's "other"? Advertising copy? Screenplays? Grocery lists? Love notes? Graffiti? I suppose it could be just about anything, and it's safe to assume I no longer dabble in any of the sub-sub-genres I just mentioned (although given the right reason, I could probably get back into love notes...but let's try not to think about that for now). I will, however, include blog entries in the "other" category. But I can't look you in the eye and say with a straight face that writing them is always easy...mainly because I'm horrible at making eye contact. And not all blog entries are created equal. There's too many factors...some days you can't stop writing, and some days you have no idea what to say. Maybe you want to write but don't feel well, or have as much time. Or you have all the time in the world, but the words won't come out. Stupid words. They should always know when they're wanted. Poetry: And this is what the process of elimination has sprung on me boiled itself down to. The problem I have here is that I could say almost the same thing about poetry as I did in the last paragraph regarding blogging, with a subtle difference: the inspiration to write a poem is often different than the inspiration to write a blog entry (provided you write blog entries that aren't based solely on writing prompts).Try to write a poem because you want to write a poem. If you can do it, good for you. When I try that approach, it sucks. You can get away writing blog entries about random things for the sake of writing a blog entry a lot easier because you've got a lot more leeway in terms of space and word count...you don't have to measure syllables and all that crap. Unless you're inspired by whatever your muse is and you can feel compelled, you're basically writing a short, short story that requires the use of the enter key more frequently...and that's not so much a poem at that point (unless you're really good). So I guess after all this screwin' around, it looks like poetry and blogging qualify as the least hardest easiest types of writing I prefer. Which is to say it doesn't mean much, or matter. It's really about the combination of wanting to do it, having reason to do it, and being in that moment where everything you think of is just magical amazingness and flows steadily from your pen (or pencil, or fingers) until you've been able to feel great about what you've just done, and you know it's gonna be awhile until you're ready to do it again. And I think for me, that last happened several months ago. MUSICAL BREAK!!  The easiest and the hardest word to say.  THE DAILY BOX SCORE:  Not gonna lie...after my YouTube sidebar earlier in this entry, I went on a massive search of Google and http://www.someecards.com/ looking for a meme that reads something like "I went on YouTube to look up a particular song and five hours later I was searching for videos about giraffes when I should've been in bed", or similar to it. And this little road trip down and away from the beaten path of the information superhighway required a snack. Since it's hard to eat a bagel with jelly on it and type at the same time, I decided to look at a few stories on http://espn.go.com/nfl/. I hate when I do stuff like that in the middle of typing a blog entry. Then I went on Facebook to this guy's page that I went to school with who's seemingly always posting memes roughly three days or so after I've written something that could be augmented by a particular meme, and nope, it wasn't there either. Damn you, memes! I thought I'd wait until I knew what the purpose of me doing it was, but since I haven't figured that out by now (meaning I probably never will) I may as well just say it...I've joined tumblr (fivesixerbuffalo is my username). I haven't posted anything on it yet. And I'm only following three blogs as of now. But if you're ever tempted to join, do so because of this: http://thischarmingcharlie.tumblr.com/, a hilarious mash-up of lyrics by The Smiths set to Peanuts comic strips.2: The number of times in the last two weeks since signing up for tumblr that I've actually used it. That doesn't include trying to download an app for it so I can use it with Blackberry Central...and that was more of an attempt to use the Blackberry than it was to use tumblr. Well, Friday's almost over and this entry definitely is. If I've learned anything tonight, it's that I have no idea how to make writing a blog entry seem easy...or anything else for that matter. Peace, I've already waited too long, and GOODNIGHT NOW!! |
| BCF PROMPT: "Are you competitive?" 'Sup y'all? Believe it or not (and contrary to what I'm about to say), I'm in a good mood. But I think that's all going to go away the longer I keep typing, unless I find myself at the end of this particular entry having made a point. See, I wanted to take the easy way out today and fluff up my words with bravado and bombastic sentiments, but I'm not feeling it. First things first...am I competitive? Yes. Well...no. I used to be. I was really competitive, maybe even to a fault, when I was younger. I had to win, even if I had to make a game out of everything to prove that I could be better than anyone at anything. Even if it was only to prove something to myself. It could've been something so insignificant...you know how people who have a gambling problem will try to bet you <name your price> that you can't make par during a round of golf, or what color the next car that turns the corner will be, or that you're wrong about the band that sang that one song that reached number whatever on the Billboard Rock Chart forty years ago and was never heard from again? That was me and competition. Like I said, it was because I felt like I always had something to prove. Why? I don't know. I can speculate 'til the our eyeballs roll toward the backs of our heads...maybe it was self-esteem issues, environment, or numerous other things. The point is, if there was a reason for me to try and beat you at something, I found it and I'd take you up on it. And then, it didn't feel as important competing. Something snapped inside me, I suppose. I don't feel the need anymore to prove anything (and always feeling the need to prove myself in just about every situation is a story for another time). Maybe it's maturity or wisdom or something I'm not even aware of. At least I'd like to think so. Or at least I'd like to think that my level of compete (ex-Buffalo Sabres coach Lindy Ruff used to like to use the word that way..."I really liked his compete on the ice today") wasn't compromised by some of the large corporations in this world that I've worked for in the past. I wonder if the massive amounts of figures and data that were manufactured and inflated to ensure competition between peers, stores, districts and other companies didn't warp my own sense of competition. Some large chains set goals in a variety of categories that they expect stores and personnel to achieve. That's what you're measured against when it comes time to rate your performance, because numbers never lie (supposedly). Raw data, however, doesn't always paint the clearest picture. It's the equivalent of leaving out key details in a story versus lying in order to not sound guilty, if that makes sense (and it does in my head but I probably didn't word it right). For example, you can receive a printout that'll tell you your sales for the month of December are down x% from last year, but that printout won't tell you that your city received three times as much snow in the sales period this year when compared to the same time last year. Or, to go back to hockey again (or any sport for that matter), players and coaches are often judged by statistics: goals/points, wins and losses, etc. But the job of an analyst is to show you the things that are happening outside of measurable data. Between training and experience, they can paint you a more complete picture of a player, team, game or situation than the average person who's just tuning in with a newspaper and a can of beer in his hand will be able to tell you about. Remember at the onset of this entry how I mentioned something about typing and making a point? Here's where things are about to get tricky. Take a look at the following picture. Buffalo had a great opportunity today to show the world what an awesome city it is when President Obama came around to give a speech about education. Instead, the city damn near shot itself in the foot by the ignorance and hatred that picture spawned. It's almost embarrassing to talk about, because I'm ashamed that in 2013 people anywhere (especially those from my hometown) can find reasons in even the most innocent (or even clichéd) occurrences to spread racially motivated and highly inappropriate and insensitive rhetoric. A local radio station posted that picture on their Facebook page under the caption "This one should stir things up". It's worth noting that this same station used to be a widely respected pillar in the community of fair and balanced news reporting that was accurate and held not only high moral standards, but also a large cache of integrity. Unfortunately, and it's not just in the Buffalo market but all across America, as I'm sure you know, radio stations are just media pawns for huge corporations now, and everybody's fighting over one thing: the almighty dollar of advertising revenue. I'm not going to get into what was said, and I'm hesitant to even promote this thread of the conversation any further. If you're willing to put your politics in your pocket for a minute though, go here https://www.facebook.com/WBEN930 and scroll down to the picture so you can see for yourself just how terrible some people can be. It's disgusting (and normally I'm the last person who says "Do this, it's terrible!" but trust me...) that this exists period, let alone in my old community. Thankfully, I have yet to see this cute photo op/outrage/heinous grouping of verbal exchanges get picked up by any national media. And while it's a crazy and unfortunate situation, we can't underscore enough what's really at play in all of this: competition. A radio station with a large following of mostly conservative, Republican-leaning types takes a simple picture, slaps a few words over it that they know full well are going to incite people with nothing else to do but sing the refrain of the company line over and over, and it gets ugly fast. The liberals are all "aww, how cute", the conservatives start talking about everything under the sun Obama's done wrong and everything he should be doing except kissing a baby, and all of the sudden people are calling other people "Hitler" and "racist" and a great opportunity is tainted in the eyes of many by this incident. But that's not my point, which I've managed to stray away from (and isn't exactly news in itself either). Everything nowadays runs on advertising. That's what pays the bills and takes care of the overhead. Every website known to man has advertising on it, and some (like WDC for example) will allow you to view their site without ads- for a fee, of course...because that lost advertising money has to be made up somehow. And corporations that are in the business of anything these days- name it- are in a race for one thing: money. Specifically, the money that's in our pockets. They're competing over every last penny...banks, bakers, automobiles, electronics, hell, even morticians, because someone's gotta make a profit off a corpse if there's a market for it. And it pains me to say it, but racism is a competition as well. Scrolling through the comments regarding the Obama picture above, it's obvious that a lot of the same prejudices felt in the quote-unquote Civil Rights Movement era are still in practice today as well. Group A thinks Group B is notoriously lazy or a detriment to society, and Group B thinks Group C is inferior, and Group C says Group A doesn't know what it's talking about. What doesn't turn into a headline or an immediate profit turns into a chess match of "we're right, you're wrong, and here's why". And when discussion becomes an argument, (among many other things) out comes competition to show you who's boss, in many forms. In case you were wondering, most of them aren't pretty. So there we are as a society in 2013. Backwards as ever. I came across something else, which I assume is in reference to the blow-up over the picture, that I find interesting...I'm not gonna quote it verbatim because I'm taking it only at face value and I'd be using it without permission, but I think it's worth noting. Only a very small fraction of people in America are actually that ignorant and insensitive enough to use racially motivated ideas and actions for what they perceive to be some kind of strange personal gain or benefit, but that minority is also the loudest. They have no problem conveying how much they hate something that isn't the same as what they believe (and that's true for both sides of the fence). All they're really doing is making more noise than the next guy. Chances are, what they're saying isn't necessarily right or wrong. They're just trying to win out. That's why I usually just keep to myself (outside of what I've said in this entry) about politics and other topics that people carry such strong emotional opinions on. There's just no point in arguing or contesting points with some people because no matter why they may or may not be right, they're going to be louder because they think that bigger/bolder/flashier/nastier wins. And that's not always the case. It may have taken me awhile and I may have went in a roundabout sort of way, but I think I actually accomplished what I set out to do. MUSICAL BREAK!!  I'm sick of talking about competition.  THE DAILY BOX SCORE: 220: Comments visible (as of approximately 7:30pm) on WBEN's Facebook posting of Obama kissing the baby. More than a few that weren't of the racially insensitive kind were of the "The poor kid looks scared" or "This kid's gonna be scarred for life" variety. Unbelievable...yet it kinda is. Any other time the POTUS drops by Buffalo and screws up the mayor's name, it'd be the biggest story of the day. http://www.theblaze.com/stories/2013/08/22/obama-mixes-up-buffalos-mayor-congres...And that's as good a place as any to wrap things up for the night. Peace, stop running a race that can't be won y'all, and GOODNIGHT NOW!! |
| BCF PROMPT: "If there were a real Fountain of Youth, would you drink the water?" Good afternoon folks. I've decided that while I've still got internet access today that isn't totally crapping out on me, I'll be a good boy and try to play nice in the communal sandbox (no pun intended ). Call it what you want...I'm just here to try to figure out what all the loose words in my head are trying to say.*Looks at prompt.* *Grumbles.* Sigh. Was it Ponce de Leon who claimed to have found the "Fountain Of Youth"? Why, I believe so! And in believing everything the internet says, he founded this theme park in Florida also: http://www.fountainofyouthflorida.com/. But we all know that's a bunch of made-up nonsense. Fountains of youth exist about as much as anti-aging creams hide wrinkles (says the 38 year old who could pass for 24 with a proper shave and some poor lighting). So let's say such an institute of age-defying outdoor plumbing (it's outdoors, no?) actually existed. What's the ground rules? Drink it, dip your toes in it, or full-on bathe in it like it's the antidote? Is there a charge, or is it free to the public? Are taxpayers funding it, and are the naturally beautiful and ageless paying for services they're not using so others can take advantage of it? I mean, for every action there's an equal and balanced opposite reaction of sorts (or something like that), so what's the trade off? This is where investigative blogging comes in handy, because there are people out there that are going to want answers to these questions. But before I get too carried away, I'll simply answer the question. No, I would not. And for the very same reason that living forever seems like a bad idea: if everyone's doing it, or even a reasonable amount of people are doing it, then soon enough the world's gonna be overpopulated...probably by more people who shouldn't be trying to prolong life, and people who should be drinking it just aren't (think of all the educators and artists who died young and in their prime versus the criminals and other life-sucking members of society that well outlast their fifteen minutes of fame). It's a nice idea to dream about, sure. And as writers one of our core tenets is dreaming. But we also live in a world where practicality wins out over far-fetched notions and "what if" questions. And today's topic du jour falls into that column. While you're wondering how great it would be to not age, you're getting older. When you're drinking the magic potion, the clock keeps ticking. It's an inescapable truth. Besides, like all those other things that are supposedly good for you, the Fountain Of Youth probably tastes like ass anyway. That's why it's never been called "Chocolate Fountain Of Youth", "Beer Spout O' Youth", "Fresh Geyser Of Awesome Chili Dogs Guaranteed To Make You Lose Weight", or "Weird Cherubic Angel Coming Out Of The Ground In A Park That Looks Like It's Urinating Something That Will Make You Look And Feel Whatever Age You Want". Think about it. MUSICAL BREAK!!  Who needs a "fountain of youth", anyway?  THE DAILY BOX SCORE:  Still no monkey emoticon. But I saw this today and it'll have to do...and I can't seem to find a version that doesn't have the sides chopped off. 2nd Question: Why is it not as easy as you think it would be to Google a meme?  And no "fingers crossed" emoticon either. I can't be the only one who thinks about this stuff once in awhile, or thinks there'd be such a sure thing in particular in emoticon form, only to find there isn't. Anyway, I'm keeping my non-emoticon hand's fingers crossed that the internet here keeps working. No ninja emoticon? Ok, now I might have to file a complaint with the necessary authorities. For the second time during his term as CEO of the USA, Barack Obama will be speaking in Buffalo, NY. And for the second time in his term, I won't be in town when he does. This furthers the notion that maybe...just maybe...we're the same person. (But probably not.) Ok...the internet's playing along nicely with me for now, I don't feel like ranting, whining or ripping anyone's head off, and I'm running out of things to say, so I'm not gonna say anything else. Peace, oh yeah, and GOODNIGHT NOW!! |
| BCF PROMPT: "A fortune teller at the local county fair tells you two things. She tells you something good that will happen, and something awful that will happen. What are these events or incidents?" Hey folks, what's up? Here's the deal...I'm gonna kind of start to rant and probably ramble for a little while. I might get snide, angry and sarcastic, so consider yourselves warned. Now might be a good time to attempt anything you've been putting off for the last thirty or so years rather than reading what I have to say. I've made this argument before, and I'm going to say it again. Fiction has no place in blogging; more specifically, in my blog. Of all the many great and wonderful things blogs should be, one of them is not storytelling under non-truthful purposes. I'll stick to factual accounts, please and thank you, and bonus points if I can make them a little humorous or at the very least readable. Now, I understand there are times and ways around it, and there are ways to get me to participate in ways that aren't exactly relative to mundane details of my life, but also aren't Mr. Dress-Up scenarios as well (see: "This one's about life among the seven days." for the most recent version of what I'm trying to say). Or, how about not blatantly asking me to write fiction, because then you'll know I'm really not gonna do it?Don't get me wrong. I know I have the choice to participate or not to participate. I know we as bloggers can write whatever the hell we want. Geez, I even wrote a Blogging Bliss newsletter feature about it a few months ago. I get it...sometimes we're not going to like the prompts we get. But not all blogging has to be prompt-based or driven, and while I've come across blogs that are funny and some may have played fast and loose at times with reality, the fact is most blogs I've seen revolve around or are a damn good reflection of its writer's life. This goes both for WDC and offsite blogs. Here's all you'll get from me regarding today's prompt: I've been through the good times, and I've been through the not-so-very-good times. I've been on cloud nine and I've dwelled in Hell on Earth. Why now would I want to speculate or consider some great thing that's most likely never going to happen to me, only to have something of equal or greater (or lesser) weight, but it's awful, happen as well? Like I won a million bucks in the lottery, but I get hit by a car on the way to cash in the ticket? No! Why would I do that? There's a thin line between being creative for the sake of the craft and being absolutely narcissistic because that's what the topic wants the imaginative side of you to be. That's not something I care to explore at this time. And while I'm at it (speaking of being narcissistic...look at me roll), I'm not calling anyone out or specifically throwing anyone under the bus, so don't all get the old knickers in a twist while I continue my episode of rambling malcontentness. I've defended people, and the BCF as a whole, for almost as long as I've been a part of it. I feel like I've been a fair, friendly and consistent member of this group. I've seen plenty of changes. And what are we given to show for it? Another survey in lieu of a prompt. It seems like whenever people start to get a little upset, or participation dwindles, it's "let's roll out a survey and see what happened" time. Look, I know it's impossible to predict how people are going to react to things. But even I know that when you take something that's successful or at least functioning properly, the last thing you should want to do is change things! Change makes people nervous and uncomfortable...and less likely to participate. Furthermore, when you take away the "happy place" some people have seemed to develop, they're not always gonna be so forthcoming about it. Some are just comfortable enough to accept that things have changed, their voices won't carry the weight necessary to enact whatever it is they feel is enough to keep them around, and they just move on. Unfortunately, that's life in the big group setting. Along those same lines, common sense needs to take precedence sometimes over the prevailing powers that be when it comes to certain group functions. Does anyone think aloud, "Hey, what if this isn't a good idea? Then what?" Or are activities just plowed through with heads down, hoping they'll catch on until after the fact and it's too late to reverse course or try something else? Ok, even I admit that so far everything sounds a bit on the harsh side. and perhaps I sound unfair. Like I mentioned, I'm not trying to step on anyone's toes here, nor am I offering many answers (I think I said enough during my survey response). I understand people are trying to run a well-functioning group, but obviously something isn't working. Numbers don't lie, and inconsistency doesn't hide. Running this group the way it has been run in the past isn't working in the present, and that's probably due to reasons that aren't hard to see. Too many leaders, too many ideas, not enough cohesion, and waning enthusiasm by everyone involved, and that includes bloggers. Everything's getting stale. Look at the forum; count the number of posts that aren't prompts or entries written by those who also write prompts. What do you notice? I have one theory worth sharing. It's nearing the end of August. It's the end of summer for some, and for others it's back-to-school time. People are busy. Last minute vacations are being taken. Kids are settling in to a new routine. Nothing else really happens this time of year. Either writing takes a back seat when free time is pinched, or people simply don't want to spend what's left of summer sitting in front of a computer trying to come up with blog entries for prompts they don't care for or are invested in. And that leads me to the reward system...the weekly and monthly blogger awards. I think the biggest exodus came as those notifications were phased out for the summer (with the second-biggest being the image prompt nightmare). The lure of friendship/kinship within a group simply isn't enough to entice people to stick around when there are so many other alternatives and options. Their incentive and personal investment isn't there. Not everybody wants to write just to write. Personally, it doesn't make a big deal to me. But I've seen cases where it has. It's too bad. Ugh. These entries get to be emotionally exhausting and frustrating at times. I don't envy the powers that be right now. No, I don't have any suggestions, and no, I don't know how to fix a group that's not performing the same as it used to. But something hasn't been right for a long, long time. It's not my job to fix it; I'm just a guy who shows up, does his thing, and gets out. I make the rounds and move along. The problem is, there's not as many rounds to make anymore, and it's a shame. /end rant Oh, ps...I saw tomorrow's prompt right before I started putting this entry down. Not sure how I feel about it, to be honest. At least it's not asking me to make stuff up. This is the one time where, to paraphrase something I once said, there's a million different definitions of blogging...only right now, none of them make sense and nobody will agree on any of them. MUSICAL BREAK!! Let me think...I could either find something to augment my arguing, or go in the complete opposite direction. Why not just do both, and top it off by posting a video from an album entitled "Gimme Fiction"? THE DAILY BOX SCORE: 4 to 1: Number of personal emails I'll receive as opposed to actual comments on this entry. I can practically guarantee it. Sometimes you just know how the trends are gonna play out.  Is it just me, or has WDC been very slow to function (load pages, write reviews, add comments) today? Of course, I spent a good part of the afternoon without any internet, and when I did have it, every other site but WDC seemed to work just fine. But nothing's working now, actually...I'm dreading finishing up writing this because if I have to hit "Save Entry", I fear that it's gonna take a half-hour to tell me I'm no longer connected to the internet. It's been almost 15 minutes and I'm still loading the emoticon page, and YouTube hasn't actually begun to play anything yet. Walking more than to the bathroom and back has become quite a pain in the ass...and the hips and the back also. For the last few days going anywhere has been a struggle. My hips and lower back are killing me from going up a flight of stairs. I didn't ask for this when it was decided for me that I was to going to turn another year older.Alright. I'm gettin' outta here. I've been disconnected for the umpteenth time today and I'm currently somehow not technically online right now, which means fun and games trying to get back on before I lose this entry completely. Peace, the beast and dragon adored, and GOODNIGHT NOW!! |
| BCF PROMPT: "Tell us about the craziest road trip you have taken, where did you go and with who? Did you think to yourself this is so worth it? Or did you regret doing the whole trip?" 'Sup y'all? It's just me, lovin' up on some late-in-the-evening internet access. Don't front on me for lovin'. I'm of two sides when I think about this particular prompt...I've been on plenty of road trips, and I haven't been on enough. I've seen a good chunk of the eastern part of the US, maybe more than others who haven't been as fortunate. But I'm also not the greatest travelling companion (and I'm sure we'll talk about that some other time). My craziest experience on a road trip? It has to be my first (or one of my first), which includes many other firsts as well. It was the first time I bought concert tickets online. It was my first extended trip to see a band play live (and by extended, I mean "not very local"). As I recall, I remember hearing on MTV that Rage Against The Machine was touring with Wu-Tang Clan...this was maybe '96 or '97 (don't make me pull out the ticket stub to give you the exact date). I pulled out my awesome Motorola cell phone http://www.google.com/imgres?imgurl=http://www.lekowicz.com/wren_forum/wp-conten... and checked with my boys Verno and DMFM to see if they were down for the adventure of a young male adult lifetime. Sho 'nuff, they were. Shortly before the trip, Verno bailed and left us with an extra ticket. We couldn't find any takers. No big deal. Me and Dave hopped in my bright red Chevy Beretta toward Pittsburgh (PA), from Buffalo (NY). Two kids, really...cruisin' the I-90 all the way through. Or so we thought. We didn't know any better, and it showed. Somewhere around halfway to Pittsburgh, a road sign on the interstate said "This way to Buffalo" with the amount of miles and an arrow. It was around the same point that DMFM had decided to confide in me that he'd had a nightmare about this trip, which included ambulances and dyings and lotsa other crazy shit. I did nothing to set the poor kid's mind at ease. At some point, after reaching Pennsylvania, we questioned our route and wondered if we were heading in the right direction (again, the internet was new to us back then, and so was internet map-making). We decided to stop at a gas station...and it wasn't a corporate chain gas station. It was a rural operation in the sticks ran by people who probably built the nearby town as well. My boy gets out to ask if we're headed in the right direction toward Starlake Amphitheater. The attendant at the station was an old man with a hook for a hand. Thoroughly creeped out (on top of his dream), he got back in the whip and we GTFoutta there. We came across a supermarket, where we bought some sandwich-making materials, and got some proper directions from the cute cashier. "Oh, you're going to that 'Rage Against The Machines' concert...I thought about goin'"...I don't remember her words verbatim, but she was cute, and she had no clue what we were talking about, but she was helpful. Eventually we made it to the concert, and it was amazing. Having seen numerous bands over the years since, it's still hands-down one of my top five favorite shows. Atari Teenage Riot opened (and YouTube them for yourselves), and for a half hour all we heard was "Stop the riot!!" But it started raining. The "amphitheater" was basically a stage with a cover over 25 or so rows of seats, and an elevated grassy expanse behind it. Somehow we managed to get under their pavilion...I think our tickets had us in the last row of covered seats. The Wu came on and I was in my glory (me being the hip hop kid and Dave...not so much) as the rain came down. I'll never forget throwing "W"'s in the air with our hands and seeing him do that as Method Man climbed the speakers. But then Rage came on. I'd heard that their leader, Zack de le Rocha, had broken his foot a few nights before the show. My fears that it was going to be a lame show were quickly and righteously ended when the band broke out with http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3L4YrGaR8E4. He was jumping around and owning the crowd. And I've said it before, but I'll say it again...there's nothing more powerful than 10,000 people together in one place screaming "Fuck you I won't do what you tell me!" It was a highlight of my then-young life. I wouldn't give that experience up for anything in the world. Even as it was happening, I had to stop DMFM from trying to beat the traffic just to soak in that moment. The real craziness doesn't end there. Why we thought it was it was a good idea to trip on out to PA and back in one night escapes me, but we did. We got lost somewhere on I-18 and then had to backtrack. We stopped in either Erie or Warren to get something to eat. It was http://www.eatnpark.com/. The service was phenomenal and so was the food. Fantastic...a-number-friggin'-one. And I called my wanna-be girlfriend at time from the bathroom just to tell her we were ok and how awesome a time we were having. But the brakes on my Beretta were failing, and it was obvious heading into the Eat N Park parking lot. Coffee was the greatest infusion of our lives' beings that night. We made it home safely, but we were chatty motherfuckers...we listened to Tom Petty like we'd just seen him, and not RATM or the Wu. I came home and slept a few hours before taking my car in to get the brakes done. I'll never have the car again, but I have the memories of that time like yesterday. MUSICAL BREAK!! THE DAILY BOX SCORE: 20: My high school reunion is this weekend. I'll miss it, and I'll miss some of the people, but I highly doubt everyone's sitting around a table wondering what I'm up to. I really didn't plan on saying anything today, but this prompt was too delicious to let slide and the memories are priceless in that I'd never trade them for anything. Much love, brother. Peace, and GOODNIGHT NOW!!  |
| BCF PROMPT: "Describe each day of the week as if it was a person." Good afternoon, folks. I've had more than enough time to consider today's prompt, which means if I haven't been able to think of anything good by now, chances are nothing good's gonna come out of it. That being said, I'm just gonna let my fingers fly and see what happens. Sweet-n-Sour Sandy Sunday: Oh, she looks cute, no doubt. Sure, she's part of the that glamorous duo, The Weekenders, but don't let her sugar-coated charm fool you. She'll fill you with the last bits of hope you have and get you in the sack and before you know it, she's gone, along with your money, your dignity, and your freedom. All you're left with is a week filled with responsibilities you wish you weren't adult enough to have. Meek Monty Monday: Monty's that guy you see everywhere that people want to avoid but can't seem to escape...and once he starts talking, you can't shut him up. He's the only person capable of making you miss Sandy Sunday, because all he does is go on and on about how great she was, and how the next time he sees her it'll be even more awesome. But you know better. He's dying (if not already dead) inside. Part of him has spent the last two days dreading he'll have to live them down today...if he's lucky enough that anyone will actually approach him first about them, where the truth will come out that he did nothing on his days off but dress up his cats and parade them around his living room. Tony Toni Tone Tuesday: He...she...it...whatever. You can't tell. You just don't know what you're gonna get; you just hope it's something close to normal. And after a few minutes of settling in, you're fine. You're relaxed. You look around, and everything is just about the way it should be, and it feels good. Why? It's all because Tony Toni Tone has done it again. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Jfoxsfhi-kk Wednesday Waterslider: She comes on to you like a rush...like you've been climbing a staircase all week to get to the top, and now it's all downhill from here. Suddenly you're refreshed by the idea that a week no longer seems like seven days, and your math tells you that it's only two more sleeps until the weekend. She's also the feel-good friend that everybody likes and hopes they get a chance to mingle with at the party, but you never see her there. Oh sure, people claim they've seen her out at the club, but you've never seen her...you can't even verify she exists outside of your workplace. Trusty (or is it Tipsy?) Tristan Thursday: He's a cold, tall glass of shutthefuckupandlet'sdothis!! when you know damn well you can wait another day and enjoy yourself a little more. But "no" doesn't show up in his dictionary, on his phone, or anywhere near his lifestyle. He's like the polar opposite of Wednesday...where she's mystique, he's mythical; she's elegant and he's elegantly wasted. He's the straw that stirs the drink...and if you leave yours unattended his tongue will stir that as well. 'Cuz that's how he got through college, so he says. Fabulous Frenchie Friday: She's the female version of Tristan, only done appropriately and tastefully (on the surface at least), and she's workplace friendly also. Her Facebook status posts on Fridays typically revolve around some kind of picture with cats, dogs, or lemurs under variations of the saying "Thank God It's Friday!" You either love her for her outgoing personality or hate her because she's obnoxious, yet when you're both drunk she's the bestest friend ev-ahhhhh!! Which makes it completely ok if you "accidentally" wake up next to her after a long night of partying. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wislPX3I0f0 Sassy Stella Saturday: By the time you've remembered Stella, she's halfway into taking control of your time off. As the other half of the dangerous Weekender twins, she'll have you believing you'll live forever while she's slowly draining you of your very existence. Her and Sandy are known for running some of the biggest bait-and-switch scams in all of history- but not for each other. They'll make you think you're leaving the bar at closing time with Wednesday (who was never there in the first place), and throw you in a cab with Tony Toni Tone Tuesday. And just before you figure out you should be objecting, you realize you don't care, and you're just glad you survived another week with these people...until Sandy calls up early the next afternoon and starts playin' with your head again. I don't claim to know or want to know any of these people, y'all. I just come in, do my job, try not to give anyone a reason to say shit about me, go home and do my thang. But that doesn't mean some of you don't know who I'm talkin' about...we just recognize them through different masks, that's all. MUSICAL BREAK!!  No emoticon that looks kinda like a calendar would in emoticon form, huh? Just add it to the list of essential emoticons, I guess.  THE DAILY BOX SCORE:  Lucky peanut butter purchase of the week: CVS has regular-sized (read: average, I suppose) bags of Reese's products on sale at 2/$7. All they had left in stock was one bag of miniature peanut butter cups and one bag of Reese's Pieces. That's what we refer to in this life as a "win-win" situation. I've made mention before how I've sporadically been able to remember my dreams a lot more in the last few years than in times before that, and I'd almost prefer now that I didn't remember them at all. Last night I officially declined an invitation to my high school graduating class' 20th reunion (for various reasons not necessary to merit mention here). I awoke this morning having dreamt that my reunion was a few towns over, and I was a mass-murderer on the run, having cunningly escaped on foot after wreaking chaos amongst the partygoers. I'm tellin' ya, for all the times I complain about how hard it is to fall asleep and stay asleep, it's nights like last night where I wish I didn't have to worry about waking up and wondering if I'm fleeing from a criminal investigation or not. It really scares the hell outta me. (And for the record, I wouldn't even know how to hold or use the weapons I was carrying, nor am I interested in any kind of gun usage.) Somehow, I still don't think there are enough days in the week. And that's the end of our program for today, folks. Might be the closest I've strung two entries together midweek in a long time. That feels kinda noteworthy. Anyway, thanks for droppin' by. Peace, seven days, seven ways, and GOODNIGHT NOW!! |
| BCF PROMPT: "Write about an ordinary day or days." Why hello, kind readers. A good late evening to you all. I had no idea it was even after 11pm until this entry decided to reset itself about three paragraphs in, which I suppose isn't bad but I probably should've seen it coming given the luck I've had with computers lately. Thankfully, I hadn't yet typed anything important (but then again, everything is important when you're not sure if you're on the verge of typing the next worst story in the history of bad stories). I think what I had said before this page auto-refreshed itself into a blank box was something along the lines of "I'll take the easy way out and tell you that this is pretty much a normal day:..." and then went BAM!! with the brackets and numbers to produce what you'll see on your screen as "This one's about the blogger's day." .And while that's all well and good, or was all well and good for the time period it was written in ( listen to me...like my blogging should be broken down into geological eras like the Ice Age, the Stone Age, and the Gel/Mousse/Blow Dryer age or something), unfortunately not every day can be classified by categories like "an ordinary day-slash-plural of "days" (and yes, I see what I did there...sometimes I like to make things seem a little more complex than they really are. That's how we challenge ourselves around here.). In fact, I'm going to go as far as to suggest that there is no such thing anymore as what you people claim to be "an ordinary day".Yup. I said it. Why continue trying to pound a square peg into a round hole? An ordinary day isn't happening for me. Life's too short to keep doing the same thing all the time, even if we really are the creatures of habit science and infomercials will lead you to believe we are (and hell, I don't need the late Billy Mays http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Gb9vOp7wCqQ to tell me that; I already know I that I need some semblance of a routine just to fall off a toilet). I guess sometimes I need one day every now and then to get me out of whatever rut I've driven myself into...whether that rut is me falling asleep at odd hours, or showering at night versus showering in the morning, or even quirkier habits like eating my vegetables first during a meal instead of the potato products or listening to music instead of watching dvds before I pretend like I'm gonna get any sleep. As much as I feel like I need the comfort of being set in certain schedules and doing things out of muscle memory and repetition, I often catch myself sabotaging those very same principles of a well-organized lifestyle. This is the point in any given entry where I'd normally throw in a joke off-handedly about whatever it is I'm talking about...sadly though, I'm not kidding. I have an unnatural (or is it natural, in this context ) tendency to royally screw up plans, plots and schedules on the basis of them being "too normal". Go figure. Then I wonder what the hell I just did...about 5.87 and a half moments too late (and I'll tell you what that means once a "moment" is scientifically broken down into a measurable statistic for me...kthanx). Like I don't know that I just ruined everything.So yeah, ummmm, that's, like, a normal day around here...just, uhhh, wonderin' what I did but knowing full well what I did, and, uhhhh, wrecking things just 'cuz I can, and that's what I do. 'Cuz the damaged circle of life doesn't just break itself, people. You don't need me or any kind of science or math or a compass (nautical, directional, or one of those ones with the super crazy sharp point on one end and a cheap pencil on the other end they always made your parents buy for you at the beginning of the school year but you only used it for maybe a week out of the entire year until you broke or lost all your other pencils, and then that pencil saved your ass...you choose). The only thing I can count on like clockwork is that I can't really count on anything. And that's really not as bad as it sounds. MUSICAL BREAK!!  I'm a wealth of musical information lately (more on that later)...but I'll be damned if I can remember what video corresponds to whatever song I'm thinking of...and today's choice isn't really about the song, but the video presentation.   Fun Fact! I wear the same pair of Adidas sneakers that the red-shirted Moby wears in this video, only mine have black shoelaces and they're knotted so I don't have to untie them...they just slip on and off comfortably.THE DAILY BOX SCORE: 4: Days I'm going on with actual internet access at home, which is unprecedented in the place I'm living.  Given the use of the internet, I'm still not even halfway through uploading all of my music collection to iTunes. But I'm finding cds I forgot I had, which is always a plus. I've also been doing something crazy that I haven't done in ages on WDC...I've gone on an extended reviewing binge. I've probably rate/review'd around 50 items in the last two days. I know, to some of you crazy power reviewers out there in the mix, that seems like nothin'. But check my stats...50 is about a quarter of the amount of stuff I've reviewed total in the last 12 years. Or, as some in the industry would call it, bad form. Whatever industry that is. Speaking of bad form, see that finger-pointin' emoticon? It (and the subsequent three fingers that would normally be pointing back at me) is pointed at you, bloggers who may be reading this. Remember "The Blog Board" ? Can we please start using that again? I went to use it the other day, and no, it's not broken. I just wasn't allowed to post my latest (at the time) entry to it because, oh yeah, I already had reached the limit of three entries on the board per person at a time, and they were all from months ago. No kidding. C'mon y'all...the bloggers of WDC fought and scraped and waged war with the powers that be just to get that created, and now we all look silly 'cuz nobody apparently wants to shout out their own new creations. All the strides blogging has made in this generation...(annnnnnd there I am, goin' off like I'm the Malcolm X of internet journaling, preachin' about the struggles we've faced as bloggers...terrible form). It's about time we start gettin' our names rotated there on the regular, people...there, and on the "Blogging Bliss Newsletter Forum" . Y'all have the power, so go on and exercise it! And in case you forgot, I like my yogurt this way, yo: Well, that's gonna wrap things up for me tonight. Again, I'm way up past my bedtime. But it's all good...it keeps the days (and nights) interesting. Now to figure out how to spend the rest of my waking time! Peace, I'm here to tell you about...GOODNIGHT NOW!! |
| 30DBC PROMPT: No prompt?? What's up everyone? I knew I wasn't gonna be around WDC as much for a few days, but I didn't intend on being absent for so long that the "30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS" would go into hibernation in August just because it's not an "official" month. I understand that contests like this will always have a fair amount of turnover, but I guess I didn't fully realize that most of the more recent participants haven't done a "Follow Me" round, and nobody's taken on the role of showing them what to do, like others have in the past. And I wish I could say I would've been a leader-type of organizing person, but this month happened and I was too busy turning 38 to notice everyone else in 30DBC-land slipping away. I wonder if it's too late in the month now to get anyone into it, or if those who'd consider participating now are just like, "Screw it, I'll wait 'til there's somethin' on the line September comes around".That may have been the longest opening paragraph I've ever typed since the days when my first-born blog was still in knockin' around in diapers. Anyway, before I really get rollin' deep today, some of you might seem confused. You might be looking at whatever it is you use to notice the date and time, and are thinking to yourselves, "Selves, it's Sunday. Why am I reading this fine gentleman's verbal output on this, the holiest of days?" Well, fret no more, friends, for thine reasonseth of my thou art aren't becauseth of religionism, or anything like that...it's because I actually have the use of internet today, without having to leave the house! Whoo hoo!! What does that mean? It means my plans for today were shot. I was gonna walk over to the library (which is closed on Sundays) and sit on their steps to see if their Wi-Fi signal worked outside (which it did yesterday), sit there for as long as I could tolerate it, come home and do some cleaning, and call it a (boring) day, while looking forward to tomorrow and actually blogging proper for the first time in almost two weeks. What did I do instead? Pretty much what almost any sane male in my situation and demographic would do: sat on my bed, streaming the Buffalo Bills game and eating almost a half of a package of Nutter Butters, while continuing to upload tons of music to my laptop (because it's so much easier to do when you have the internet as your wingman, but more on that later). In other words, I really haven't done squat today. Just the basics. In fact, just the basic of the basics. I have to strike while the proverbial iron's hot, or at least still warm after about six hours. I'd hate to be that guy who has to actually get dressed and leave the house to use the internet. Case in point: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pS3Alz0I5H4 So where exactly have I been the last few days since we last mingled? Well, like I mentioned, I had a birthday, and no, you don't have to get me anything. Like I say every freakin' year, if we treated everyone the same way every day like we treat them on their birthday, the world would be a better place. That's partly why I don't place much emphasis on my own "special day" (and you can finger-quote me on that). My mom came in to town, and we went out to dinner, which was nice (although if there's a Dickey's BBQ near you, don't bother...and I'm not gonna waste my promotional usage by linkin' up to their website- that's how much I'm not a fan). Anyone who's been around these parts of the internet knows that I could count on one hand the number of times I've seen my mom in the last twenty years, so yeah, that was a big deal in itself. The next day we were gonna hit up some local places of interest, but I wasn't sure what I wanted to do other than eat pizza and look at some of the pictures of mine she'd brought down while listening to some of my cd's (also that she'd had). I had her meet me around the way at a local pizza joint. So here's me, carrying a box down Port Watson St. that isn't big, but awkward because it's got a ton of pictures, plus a book full of about 200 cd's, and my laptop on top of it for good measure. And what happens? My right leg gave out at the ankle. Not the same ankle I broke in December, thankfully, but not good nonetheless. I hit the ground pretty solidly, with scrapes on my knee and elbow to prove it. And by the time we sat down at the pizza joint, it was actually swollen to a size much bigger than its surgically-repaired counterpart, which is a significant fact. It still bugs me today a bit, which means not only am I walking even funnier than normal, but I should've actually gotten it checked out. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ey4WSb-BVDQ Anyway, I wasn't in the mood to go far, so we just went back to her hotel room and hung out for awhile. We talked about a lot of things, and really caught up, which was good. A lot of stuff was said that needed to be said. It was a positive experience, and I'm thankful for it. I really can't say much more about it, but there's not much more to say about it anyway. It's all about moving forward. The next day was her last here in Cortland, so we went to lunch and the Museum Of Living History (http://www.cnylivinghistory.org/), which in reality sounds a lot more interesting than it actually is (unless you find old tractors and stuff dead people wore interesting...and since it's a museum of "Living History", well, I think you see where I'm goin' with that ), although some of it was kinda cool. I didn't have a bad time. In fact, I spent part of yesterday afternoon at the 14th Annual Brockway Trucks somethin'-somethin'-somethin'-or-other, which was right around the corner from me. All the same old trucks and tractors, all parked along the main drag, attracting tons of yard chairs full of old, fat guys in trucker hats from the '80's. Took me about ten minutes to walk up one side, ten minutes to walk back, ten minutes to realize I'd have to go ten minutes back from the other way to go to the drug store, and 15 minutes to walk out of the way of people who, in the process of looking at large trucks in a parked position, can't be watching out for the people walking next to or near them.So yeah, that's a bit of an update here. And no, I didn't quite color in all the gaps to account for the last week and a half, but you'll have that. I haven't been all that busy otherwise, but I haven't been all that motivated either. Must be that extra year (and not the 37 before) tacked on to my age. BCF PROMPT: "In my day, they were known as 'cheap thrills'...something that we did that was exciting but did not give real satisfaction. Share with us some of your favorite cheap thrills. If they are called something else now, share that too! Inquiring minds want to know." Well, since I know Sundays are usually a "free day" in the "Blogging Circle of Friends Prompt Forum" , and I haven't looked at the prompt yet for Monday, I'm gonna use Saturday's prompt instead. I'd ask you if you mind, but I know you won't. And even if you did, when it's your handle on the masthead I'll take up a little concern. Everything's a cheap thrill, man. Shit's too expensive nowadays to take lightly, and even then ya still gotta be careful, because every little thing nowadays has the tendency to piss someone off, no matter what. People get offended too easily, and too upset over stupid things. And I'm including myself in that assessment. Lemme switch directions and give it to ya like this: kids will be kids, kids will always be kids, and kids always do dumb shit just to see what they can do, how far they can go, and prove dumb kid points. It's a fact of life as much as sex, math and Ryan Seacrest. Now, it may be said that what was considered "cheap thrills" when I was a kid is nothing compared to what kids today get away with just as much as it's possible we were allowed to get away with a lot more years ago as well. Whew. All that run-on of a last sentence means is that it's storytime for this kid. One of my childhood friends lived down the street from me. We lived on a two-block side street in an old Polish neighborhood. It was anchored by a busy street at one end, another side street at the other end, and ran parallel to a much longer street. Our little street was cut in half by a street that stretched into the city of Buffalo (we were just a few blocks out from the city line). Scooter had a paper route, and his dad custom-built a bad-ass wagon for his route, which consisted solely of our street (and anywhere from 45-70 copies of The Buffalo News on a given day) . The base of this wagon was your standard red wagon, but it had sides and a lid and was big enough to fit the both of us inside. Any typical day after school, I'd help him deliver the news. We'd stop at a local convenience store to load up on candy and snacks, walk a block to the local distributor's house to insert the papers, and we were off. Some days we'd get things over and done with, and other days we'd screw around and do anything but deliver papers. Usually things were harmless, and in reality we've done a lot worse...the situation I'm about to describe probably should've ended differently. We were maybe 12 or 13 years old at the time...the awkward late '80's. We were at the Wilson Farms, grabbin' our junk food for the afternoon. Scooter came around the aisle with a few things, including an old-fashioned toy pistol. You know, the ones you load up with the thin rolls of red paper that make a loud bang when you pull the trigger, and even have a little smoke after to make them look authentic? Yeah, that's what I'm talkin' about. At the middle intersection of our street were some of the larger homes on the block, which were also occupied by some of the oldest people on the street. One of the old ladies must've really caught Scooter's attention and pissed him off somehow, and he was bound to aggravate her right back. It must be noted that he was a bit more mischievous than I was, but I usually went along with whatever plans he would concoct. We were gonna deliver the first half of the route, and stage a routine in front of this lady's house, and run like hell to get out of there. Like clockwork, the old lady at the corner was watching us through the window, trying to hide behind her curtain so we wouldn't see her watching us. 'Cuz, ya know, the paperboys are always up to no good. Once we hit the last house on the first half of the street, Scooter would do some yelling, pull the pistol, dramatically point it at me, fire it, and I'd fall to the ground, as if I were really shot. And we did it. When he gave the word to go, I got up and we fled. As I fell, he looked around as if to pretend he was "looking for witnesses", but he was really looking for the old lady's reaction, and it went something like her gasping, putting her hands over her mouth, and running from the window. We got a really good laugh out of it...we don't know if she called the cops or anything like that, and to be honest, it was so long ago that I don't recall anything coming from that situation. But let's fast-forward to today, about 25 years and a bazillion gun-related tragedies later. I really think there's no way in this world we live in now that we could've pulled that off so easily and carefree. Somehow, if we did it in front of certain groups of people, we probably could've ended up in a lot of trouble for it. This wasn't just rollin' empty pop cans in front of moving cars to watch them get crushed or throwing snowballs at power lines...who knows what this woman was thinking?! We probably scared the ever-lovin' outta her, and she might've called the cops, but we weren't hangin' around on that side of the street long enough to find out once she left the window. The only thing I can think of is that Scooter thought she was being nosy by watching us way she was, and if that was the case, we were gonna give her somethin' to see. If anything, it was just a harmless stunt to stick an old lady up her own ass. The real funny part is that when I'm that age, I'll probably be the same old man paranoid of kids walking down his street. See...not only can I relate to today's prompt, but I can sorta moralize it and come up with something to think about not only for today, but in the future as well! MUSICAL BREAK!! Wait, uhhhh...no simian-themed emoticons?? Did I know this already, and have I complained about it? Well, I'm not using "Sunday Sunday" by Blur, "Sunday Morning" by No Doubt, "Sunday Bloody Sunday" by U2, "Sunday Morning Coming Down" by Johnny Cash or "Blue Sunday" by The Doors. You get this instead: THE DAILY BOX SCORE: 25: Approximate number of Sundays you'll have to go back 'til you find the last entry I've posted on a Sunday...probably even more.  Today wasn't a total waste; due to the internet I was able to get a start on a project that would've had to wait until I really felt like it during the week. Don't worry, y'all will see it soon enough. I'm just glad I got a good jump on it. Excuse me for a "feel good" moment of the day...we're all allowed them now and again. And how about them Buffalo Bills? Scoring the most points ever in their preseason history? Two rookie qb's runnin' game like old pros? I know, I know...it's only one game and it's preseason, but gimme a little reason for optimism, and watch a Bills fan take it...especially since it's been 13 years without so much as a sniff of the playoffs. So, am I missing something, or does WDC really have every animal except monkeys, pigs and cows covered in the emoticon section of WritingML? For real? No chickens either? So, the only edible emoticon then is the crab (and by edible, I mean "only what I'll eat", not what people from places who eat other animals eat...and I don't even like crabmeat!!), and the next-closest edible emoticon would be a football, which is sometimes referred to as a "pigskin", even though footballs are technically no longer made from the inflated bladder of a pig. I digress...in addition to eating almost half a package of Nutter Butters while listening to football, I also consumed nearly an entire bag of BBQ Pork Jerky, which I got an amazing deal on at Kinney Drugs...$5.99/bag, on sale for buy one, get one free, and each bag had a $1 off coupon...so that means I paid...ummmm, oh who cares! It's Sunday, so I don't need to do math anyway, and you need somethin' to do when you're done reading this, right?Ok, well, I know one thing's for certain after blasting through the "don't call it a comeback- I've been here for years" entry: I need more Nutter Butters. Dammit...I knew there was a reason for clothing myself and leaving the house today besides using an internet connection to upload cd's (oh yeah about that...iTunes doesn't like it when you're not connected to the giant database of musical information when you're adding music...and I don't like adding all the title info and cover art by hand when the internet was built for the purposes of doing that and for me telling you about it doing that). Now I'm out of Nutter Butters and Cinnamon/Brown Sugar Pop-Tarts, and I'm afraid the closest store I feel like going to is closed (and "feel like" is the operative phrase at best anyway). I guess that means it's time to switch to Reese's peanut butter cups then. Like going from beer to straight whiskey, without waking up to the hangover or the questionable person next to you. Hope you've all had a great weekend! Peace, you got peanut butter in my chocolate, and GOODNIGHT NOW!! |
| 30DBC PROMPT: "Recall a monumental decision you had to make recently. On the first day (yesterday), share with us the decision you made and the outcome of your choice. Was the outcome generally good or bad? On the second day (today), you have a chance to make a different decision. If you choose to change your decision, write about how that choice would affect your life now. If you decide to stay with the decision you made, explain why." Good afternoon, dear readers. I'm fully aware of the circumstances today's entry holds. It's the second part of the fabled "serial" portion of the "30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS" . Well, no circumstances for me, of course, but to those out there in the running for the virtual championship belt. Otherwise, well, I realize what these serials are supposed to be about, and what you've gotta do to pull off one that really wows the judges and the competition alike, and sucks in readers like a giant, shady van tossing out free candy. I've done it before (the serial, not the van). You've gotta come strong at the finish...the climactic finale, the happy ending.Spoiler Alert! This entry has neither of those traits. And as much as I'd love to pull off an entry that reads like you don't have to read part one in order to understand part two, well, you should've already known by now I'm too lazy to feel like pulling that off today. So here's a brief recap of yesterday: video, broken leg, disheveled Yoda, Excel, C'mon Man, judging. Got it? I decided that rather than entering the 30DBC this month full-time, I would do the guest judging for a week. We determined (that's I, after bouncing these words off you) that it was, in fact, a good choice. But what would've happened had I not stepped in to judge this week? What if I wrote thirty straight days of legit entries? Would I have even entered at all? (I got a little cocky here, and typed the bracket and "link" expecting to easily find a YouTube clip of Wayne and Garth doing the noise I can't put any words to and moving their hands and fingers up and down before they launch into a dream sequence. The one time I need a short clip to illustrate my point, it figures that I wouldn't be able to locate the one I want. It's like they always say...live by the YouTube, die by the YouTube.) Man...if you thought I was unprepared yesterday to judge a whole week's worth of entries, what would you call today then? 'Cuz I have no backup plan, nor a conclusion to my serial. And I don't know what to write about, either . Here's an idea, and it's based off an old acronym we would use when I worked at the local consumer electronics company's repair shop for customers who would bring in audio/visual equipment they claimed was malfunctioning (but in reality they just didn't know what they were doing): RTFM. Only in my situation, it would look like RTFP (and that would be "Read The Effin' Prompt"). There's my out. I wouldn't choose any differently, especially knowing that I would wind up making the task even harder than it already is (which is not to say judging is hard, but it does possess a different degree of discipline than writing does). I have a tendency to stick boldly to my decisions (sometimes with full-blown conviction, and sometimes rather foolishly). At the time of choice (for lack of a better word), you have to choose with confidence and be able to soundly defend why you made whatever decisions you've made. As it turns out, I don't have any good reason for staying with the decision I made, other than I'd been getting bored just writing entries and acting like a normal participant. I wanted to do something different. I didn't want to just donate a ton of GP's and hope one day they'd rename the whole 30DBC after me and present the winner with the Fivesixer Memorial Monthly Official Challenge Trophy (or FMMOCT, pronounced "fuhmmuct'd" for those of you spelling at home) six times a year. I also knew I wouldn't be able to do a full month of competing, but I didn't know that until after the month started. Really though, it's because I wanted to. I don't think my life would've been that much different one way or the other, but I guess that's one of the things you don't really know about unless it actually happens the opposite way, in which case you wouldn't know that how it turned out is really what you would've wanted to happen. See what I'm sayin'? I do. And I would've had this part done so much sooner had I actually paid attention to what the entire prompt said, rather than glossing it over and trying to think of some fancy bullshit story about why I wanted to judge, and how it would've made some crazy difference like I was doing it for the Make-A-Wish foundation http://wish.org/ or I was being paid in tacos or something. Nope. Not me. No crazy but true stories, no happy endings. Just an end. Happy July, and yay me for actually following through and judging the 30DBC for a week, and actually writing a serial prompt without complaining about it.  Unheard of in these parts, I know...but sometimes the truth is stranger than the satire it's based on.BCF PROMPT: "If a restaurant were to name something after you, what would it be? Describe it. (Bonus points if you give us a recipe!)" And now for the tasty portion of today's entry! It's gonna be simple, 'cuz really, the prompt is simple. The restaurant wouldn't be your ordinary place of doing business by eating. It'd have to be something like http://www.broadwaydelicafeandcatering.com/, because it's no secret how much I absolutely love their sandwiches. That's correct. I don't need fancy meals or gourmet pleasures. Give me a simple sandwich where the primary ingredient is love, and I'll endorse it anywhere. What would be on my signature sandwich? Hard salami and turkey breast piled about an inch high, some provolone and Swiss cheese on a seeded sesame roll (toasted), with lettuce, tomato and a thickly-sliced ring of onion, topped with horseradish mustard and mayonnaise (cut in half for good measure and easier handling), with a dill pickle on the side. I don't even have to specify "fresh", because everything the Broadway Deli's ever served me tasted like it was fresh...the veggies, the meats, the rolls, the cheeses, they all taste a hundred times better than if you'd purchased the same stuff from the giant grocery store around the way. They're beyond the boundaries of what your taste buds are familiar with...your taste buds will become your best buds when you're done with one of their gigantic sandwiches (made right before your watchful eyes!). And they're reasonable too...I think the last time I was there I got the combo for $8.99, which was the sandwich, a cup of their homemade soup of the day and a drink. You can't beat that...not with the price of meat at grocery stores these days. Plus, it's got my name on it. I'll take two, because I'm ok with sharing! MUSICAL BREAK!!  Well, I couldn't get the Wayne's World clip I wanted, but I got this instead. Almost as good.  THE DAILY BOX SCORE: 45: Minutes a sketchy old man sat at the same table as I was seated at in the local library, and decided to read...wait for it...wait for it...the phone book. No joke...it's not like he was feverishly flipping through the letters, looking for a particular business or person. He was straight up chillin', workin' his eyes up and down them pages as if they held secrets he was determined to stare out of the names, addresses and phone numbers of the folks still gettin' their call on usin' ol' Ma Bell and the ill communication http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wFQXDUKtb6o. No pen and paper to write things down on, and no celly to put someone on blast. It's like he did it to relax. In a room full of books...and your choice is one of the approximately 86 copies of the Cortland County yellow pages? Can I get a "looks away and shakes my damn head" emoticon, please?  Longtime readers of "Who Do I Think I Am??" may recall me talking about a band from Buffalo named Letterset (and you can see videos I've taken of them here: http://www.youtube.com/user/naikin3/videos), the drummer of which I know and consider to be one of the best living drummers music has ever known. Josiah's got a new band, and you can find out more on Twitter by following them at @Daydreamchronic ...show your love for the 716! Thanks to everyone who's read this month's "Invalid Item" , and especially those who kicked a few GP's into the kitty  ! Too very nice of you. Don't forget to head over to the forum...your blog might be featured next month just for hittin' up the editors at the "Blogging Bliss Newsletter Forum" . Tell your friends, tell your enemies, hell, even tell your frenemies http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BMnPdBzVT1E! We don't mind! It's wild! It's fun for the whole family! Do it now! (After you finish reading this, of course.) That awkward moment when you're yawning, and it feeeeels sooooo goooood because you're in a full stretch and your jaw's so wide open that it's actually relaxed and then your neck makes a cracking sound and a pain shoots down your spine and disrupts you mid-yawn, leaving you to feel like you've got more yawn to give but you can't 'cuz your mind feels like you just had a stellar yawn? Yup, that was me while homeboy was readin' the phone book. And yes, I'm the guy who yawned 47 times typing this point up because I yawn when I see or hear the word "yawn", or see someone else yawn. I wish I could do the same thing with the word "sleep". Yeah, that'd be real nice. Ok, that's it. Another month in the 30DBC is over, and so's this entry. On behalf of "Who do I still think I am??" I'd like to thank the judges, the staff, the crew, the posse, the butcher, the street team, the stylist, The Fifth Dimension http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oPK7ZF6jfJE, the BCF, the ego, the dictionary, the legs on her, the powers that be, the Calder Cup, the Church of The Fonz, the letter "Q", The Color Purple, this one, that one, the white one or the black one, and most importantly, you- the person behind the beautiful face watching these words on your computer screen or mobile device. We (you and I) love you all. It's been a great month. Peace, I believe we can reach the morning light, and GOODNIGHT NOW!! |
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