While I do believe that Jim was specifically talking only about the male genitalia in that classic song, it still seems to fit here. I am not going to be masturbating, but |I am going to spew goo on the internet again.
I know I ended up taking a slightly longer vacation than I had planned, but I am back baby!
I needed that extra week to deal with some emotions and whatnot that I had not expected to be experiencing. What ended up happening is I lost my inspiration. I lost my drive and my creativity. Without such things I decided against just pushing through crap and putting a bow on it.
I do not wish to sell you lipstick for my piggish ideas.
I want to actually provide you with something that is worth reading. Unfortunately, I am still without major inspiration, but I have a plan. That plan is to steal from the internet.
Not directly mind you, cause plagiarism is silly. My plan is to do two things. One is to hunt down a single idea, photo or internet thingy a day and write about it.
Along with that, I also found an interesting music game, which I will play with you over the next thirty blog posts.
Please be patient as I try and regain my mojo, it is there, it is just sad and a bit afraid of you.
Be gentle.
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
Saturday, April 16, 2011
One Monkey Week April 11-17
A day early and a feature short.
One Week of Blogs In One Paragraph
The week started out with a podcast in which we learned how I become the gay friend. After that there was some fiction which was stolen by another website and posted. At least they gave me credit for it. So I guess that technically makes me published. Wednessday got rough because I realised I have gotten old. A list appeared in which I complained about being ugly and explained how and why Han SHOT FIRST! We closed the week off here with the fully necessary blog about not blogging and instead making love with your hand and other excuses.
Monkey Messages
The more you are motivated by love, the more fearless and free your actions will be - Kath
Musical Interlude
The All-American Rejects - It Ends Tonight. Sometimes it is just good to end things that cast a darkness over you, even if that darkness is unintentional. This song has always been about the switch from pain to understanding to learning. How all break ups, endings, deaths, lead to eventual wisdom.
Guns N' Roses - Garden of Eden. This is one of those songs that reminds me that Phil Collins is meaningless. This is when Huey Lewis just became irrelevant. The lyrics of this song are so angsty and yet possess a sort of hope for change that I can't help but love it. It's not a problem you can solve, it's rock and roll.
Guns N' Roses - Don't Cry (Alt Lyrics). This song reminds me of a person is tired of being your solution but can't walk away because he loves his tormentor so much. There is this feeling of not getting what you want and yet still staying because of duty, honour and love. The writer walk with ghosts that no one helps with but he will help those he loves because he loves them, and he will sacrifice but he needs to say these things.
Violent Femmes - Kiss Off. Immature love at its finest. Also, college music at its finest. Insecurity mixed with passion and lust. Dealing with these feelings can be tough, and when the going gets tough the tough get messed up.
Linkin Park - Bleed It Out. I would have to say that this is probably my second favourite band performing my second favourite song they do. I am sure it is just random lines on a page to them, but to me it speaks volumes about a redemptive act, and how sometimes that redemptive act can merely be bringing to light the things that have created wounds in us.
Weekly Nirvana
Podcast Of The Week
This week I want to hilight the podcast of twin brothers Randy and Jason Sklar. Their podcast is called Sklarbro Country, which is more clever a ame than people give it credit for.
These two brothers play off of each other better than any comedy team that I have heard previously. I am sure it helps that they are twins, but still, they can build and play off each other with ease, creating avalanches of jokes and referential puns and building complex takes on pop culture and sports.
What many might claim as a drawback is that it is very sports oriented. The two are clearly sports fans and have made a career of commenting on sports. This is not an issue for me, and it most likely won't be for you. They manage to make sports accessable to people by talking more about them in their pop culture influence rather than in an elitist, musst know batting acerages sort of way.
These two clearly know their audience and their craft and they manage to make sports and ridiculous pop culture funny and topical.
Each week they bring in a guest who is not a sports star. They bring in mostly comedians and actors to discuss all manner of things. Special episodes include Chris Cox impersonating several celebrities rather well. Of course these impressions are over the top charactures and invariably lead to groaning and laughter.
For those who are musical snobs they also provide several musical breaks in which they showcase independent style music, some of which may actually come from bands you have heard of. If you haven't there is still a pretty good chance that you will like it, and if you don't they are brief and easily forwarded past.
All in all a quality podcast with great hosts, guests and bits. This podcast is highly reccomended to sports fans and strongly reccomended for people who like comedians who roast celebrity.
YouTube Clip Of The Week
Finally, a gym I wish to join.
One Monkey Toy
I attempted to do research for this week's toy, and so, like all great researches I typed something in to google. What I typed in was Man Toys. Now, I must admit I had to wade through a few porn related sites with live action Miley Cyrus dolls, but once I did, the first site that came up not related to getting your rocks off was about stalking women. No seriously.
What I saw was a site for night vision goggles and other special optics devices for spying. While I can get behind playing spy games, I cannot get behind stalking the ladies.
This google interpretation of manhood shocked me in so much as it is right there out in the open. So often we like to think the world is not what we think it is, but apparently, according to google, the world is exactly the way you think it is.
Men are creepy, disgusting sex addicted perverts who will get what they want one way or another. I am only slight pleased at the fact that sexual surrogates were ranked slightly higher than devices which make kidnapping and rape easier.
I am so disillusioned right now, and cannot look for real toys, sorry.
Wrap Party
Had to get through this quickly because I am going on a week long vacation. I am taking a week off starting.....right now....ok not now but soon. I just need some time away from the internet to get some stuff in ordeer. My creativity has taken a minor slide of late so I want to recharge the batteries. This means that there will be no posts this week and seriously reduced twitter and facebook traffic. I will be back with a vengeance after this down time with a bunch of awesome posts and podcasts. Take care people and I will see you on the other side.
Vacation starts ....... now.
One Week of Blogs In One Paragraph
The week started out with a podcast in which we learned how I become the gay friend. After that there was some fiction which was stolen by another website and posted. At least they gave me credit for it. So I guess that technically makes me published. Wednessday got rough because I realised I have gotten old. A list appeared in which I complained about being ugly and explained how and why Han SHOT FIRST! We closed the week off here with the fully necessary blog about not blogging and instead making love with your hand and other excuses.
Monkey Messages
The more you are motivated by love, the more fearless and free your actions will be - Kath
Musical Interlude
The All-American Rejects - It Ends Tonight. Sometimes it is just good to end things that cast a darkness over you, even if that darkness is unintentional. This song has always been about the switch from pain to understanding to learning. How all break ups, endings, deaths, lead to eventual wisdom.
Guns N' Roses - Garden of Eden. This is one of those songs that reminds me that Phil Collins is meaningless. This is when Huey Lewis just became irrelevant. The lyrics of this song are so angsty and yet possess a sort of hope for change that I can't help but love it. It's not a problem you can solve, it's rock and roll.
Guns N' Roses - Don't Cry (Alt Lyrics). This song reminds me of a person is tired of being your solution but can't walk away because he loves his tormentor so much. There is this feeling of not getting what you want and yet still staying because of duty, honour and love. The writer walk with ghosts that no one helps with but he will help those he loves because he loves them, and he will sacrifice but he needs to say these things.
Violent Femmes - Kiss Off. Immature love at its finest. Also, college music at its finest. Insecurity mixed with passion and lust. Dealing with these feelings can be tough, and when the going gets tough the tough get messed up.
Linkin Park - Bleed It Out. I would have to say that this is probably my second favourite band performing my second favourite song they do. I am sure it is just random lines on a page to them, but to me it speaks volumes about a redemptive act, and how sometimes that redemptive act can merely be bringing to light the things that have created wounds in us.
Weekly Nirvana
Podcast Of The Week
This week I want to hilight the podcast of twin brothers Randy and Jason Sklar. Their podcast is called Sklarbro Country, which is more clever a ame than people give it credit for.
These two brothers play off of each other better than any comedy team that I have heard previously. I am sure it helps that they are twins, but still, they can build and play off each other with ease, creating avalanches of jokes and referential puns and building complex takes on pop culture and sports.
What many might claim as a drawback is that it is very sports oriented. The two are clearly sports fans and have made a career of commenting on sports. This is not an issue for me, and it most likely won't be for you. They manage to make sports accessable to people by talking more about them in their pop culture influence rather than in an elitist, musst know batting acerages sort of way.
These two clearly know their audience and their craft and they manage to make sports and ridiculous pop culture funny and topical.
Each week they bring in a guest who is not a sports star. They bring in mostly comedians and actors to discuss all manner of things. Special episodes include Chris Cox impersonating several celebrities rather well. Of course these impressions are over the top charactures and invariably lead to groaning and laughter.
For those who are musical snobs they also provide several musical breaks in which they showcase independent style music, some of which may actually come from bands you have heard of. If you haven't there is still a pretty good chance that you will like it, and if you don't they are brief and easily forwarded past.
All in all a quality podcast with great hosts, guests and bits. This podcast is highly reccomended to sports fans and strongly reccomended for people who like comedians who roast celebrity.
YouTube Clip Of The Week
Finally, a gym I wish to join.
One Monkey Toy
I attempted to do research for this week's toy, and so, like all great researches I typed something in to google. What I typed in was Man Toys. Now, I must admit I had to wade through a few porn related sites with live action Miley Cyrus dolls, but once I did, the first site that came up not related to getting your rocks off was about stalking women. No seriously.
What I saw was a site for night vision goggles and other special optics devices for spying. While I can get behind playing spy games, I cannot get behind stalking the ladies.
This google interpretation of manhood shocked me in so much as it is right there out in the open. So often we like to think the world is not what we think it is, but apparently, according to google, the world is exactly the way you think it is.
Men are creepy, disgusting sex addicted perverts who will get what they want one way or another. I am only slight pleased at the fact that sexual surrogates were ranked slightly higher than devices which make kidnapping and rape easier.
I am so disillusioned right now, and cannot look for real toys, sorry.
Wrap Party
Had to get through this quickly because I am going on a week long vacation. I am taking a week off starting.....right now....ok not now but soon. I just need some time away from the internet to get some stuff in ordeer. My creativity has taken a minor slide of late so I want to recharge the batteries. This means that there will be no posts this week and seriously reduced twitter and facebook traffic. I will be back with a vengeance after this down time with a bunch of awesome posts and podcasts. Take care people and I will see you on the other side.
Vacation starts ....... now.
Friday, April 15, 2011
Do or Do Not, There is No Shame
Ok, there is actually some shame... in fact I am feeling a tremendous amount of shame right now. It is not my usual shame for the way I look, or the things I say or the incredibly small manhood that I possess. Today's shame is something a bit more fixable, which is totally not true about my other shames, despite what the emails I receive might lead me to believe.
Today is Friday, and on the blog that means stories from street level. The original idea behind the theme was to gather stories about what is really going on in the world from the perspective of the people living their lives in a more realistic way.
All too often I read books where characters are from the streets or have some sort of street cred, yet the writer only understands these people through the tint of their car window, or the fade of the yellowed pages of some socio-political handbook on how to be a better bleeding heart liberal. It irks me sometimes to think that this is how they see the lives of those who I know so well.
I also wanted to give a platform, not only for myself, but others who might have stories in their head from their past that they feel a need to share, sort of a therapy thing in a way.
This morning I sat down to begin writting a story. I wanted it to come from the heart and from the vantage point of a person dealing with issues that just aren't prevalent in the burbs...or at least from a different point of view.
I sort of grow tired of listening to angry white boys from the suburbs bitching about their lives in song. I think that might be one of the reasons I like Saliva, they can at least admit where their anger comes from and how they shouldn't pretend it is anything more than it is.
I wanted to write something touching and gritty and real. Then I wanted a donut.
Nothing came out of the whole thing because I decided to masturbate rather than go for a donut, but there was nothing good on the porn sites, and I accidentally clicked on a video about trannys which sort of ruined the whole experience for me. They sneak them in to the damn websites now like they did in the porno mags. You're cruising along enjoying a nice pictorial of a young lady with massive boobs in a corn field, or a young lady with massive boobs in a bar, or a young lady with massive boobs in a sports car and all of a sudden there's a picture of a nice young lady with massive boobs and a giant man handle. Seriously. It ruins the aesthetic. I never understood the idea. Are gay dudes so repressed they need to masturbate to straight porn with a hint of naughty, or is it more a straight thing where guys just don't want to admit they just want to take a shot in the mouth to see what it's like? I digress a little here, but it happens.
The point is, I was unable to write.
I have made great strides in my life, overcoming several obstacles and putting my behind in the past.... hey does making a Lion King reference balance out the detailed porno thing? Again, the point is that I have come so far that trying to think in terms of the street level character is difficult and causes me to desire donuts, which are completely unhealthy and not at all the direction in which I should travel given the fact that ugly people are turning me down for dates.
This is all just an incredibly long winded way of me saying I can't fulfill my obligation today. I have a strategy though. Tonight, at the crack of dusk I will venture forth from my comfortable location clad only in jeans and a hoody. I will seek out street life and street civilizations. I will boldly go where no classy man has gone before.
I need to commune with my nature because it has been far too long. I have spent far too much time locked in my attic writing space dreaming up new things to write about and it has left me a softened old husk of a man.
Tonight I shall brave the wilds of drunken teenagers, shambling bums, women in tight skirts, jackasses in I love Jersey shore muscle t's, and I will report my findings.
I shall brave the urban jungle as I once did. I will slip unnoticed through their ranks and really get back to where I should be. Though I have come a long way, and I would not willingly go backwards, I feel a kinship to this sort of thing, a legacy that bleeds through my impassioned writing should come out and play. This legacy should be the real heart and soul of all the things that make up me. I should stop pretending that my place is here, in the confines of my apartment, or in the inviting warmth of friend's insulated locales. My place is with my people.
Tonight I shall go walkabout.
P.S. Though this is sort of a lame post, I am somewhat proud of it because of all the references. I said somewhere in there some nonsense about being all the parts of me, and in this post I think I achieved it. Self deprecation, Kevin Smith, Star Wars, Star Trek (which sucks btw), music, dirty humour, clean humour, and self recrimination. Yay me!
Today is Friday, and on the blog that means stories from street level. The original idea behind the theme was to gather stories about what is really going on in the world from the perspective of the people living their lives in a more realistic way.
All too often I read books where characters are from the streets or have some sort of street cred, yet the writer only understands these people through the tint of their car window, or the fade of the yellowed pages of some socio-political handbook on how to be a better bleeding heart liberal. It irks me sometimes to think that this is how they see the lives of those who I know so well.
I also wanted to give a platform, not only for myself, but others who might have stories in their head from their past that they feel a need to share, sort of a therapy thing in a way.
This morning I sat down to begin writting a story. I wanted it to come from the heart and from the vantage point of a person dealing with issues that just aren't prevalent in the burbs...or at least from a different point of view.
I sort of grow tired of listening to angry white boys from the suburbs bitching about their lives in song. I think that might be one of the reasons I like Saliva, they can at least admit where their anger comes from and how they shouldn't pretend it is anything more than it is.
I wanted to write something touching and gritty and real. Then I wanted a donut.
Nothing came out of the whole thing because I decided to masturbate rather than go for a donut, but there was nothing good on the porn sites, and I accidentally clicked on a video about trannys which sort of ruined the whole experience for me. They sneak them in to the damn websites now like they did in the porno mags. You're cruising along enjoying a nice pictorial of a young lady with massive boobs in a corn field, or a young lady with massive boobs in a bar, or a young lady with massive boobs in a sports car and all of a sudden there's a picture of a nice young lady with massive boobs and a giant man handle. Seriously. It ruins the aesthetic. I never understood the idea. Are gay dudes so repressed they need to masturbate to straight porn with a hint of naughty, or is it more a straight thing where guys just don't want to admit they just want to take a shot in the mouth to see what it's like? I digress a little here, but it happens.
The point is, I was unable to write.
I have made great strides in my life, overcoming several obstacles and putting my behind in the past.... hey does making a Lion King reference balance out the detailed porno thing? Again, the point is that I have come so far that trying to think in terms of the street level character is difficult and causes me to desire donuts, which are completely unhealthy and not at all the direction in which I should travel given the fact that ugly people are turning me down for dates.
This is all just an incredibly long winded way of me saying I can't fulfill my obligation today. I have a strategy though. Tonight, at the crack of dusk I will venture forth from my comfortable location clad only in jeans and a hoody. I will seek out street life and street civilizations. I will boldly go where no classy man has gone before.
I need to commune with my nature because it has been far too long. I have spent far too much time locked in my attic writing space dreaming up new things to write about and it has left me a softened old husk of a man.
Tonight I shall brave the wilds of drunken teenagers, shambling bums, women in tight skirts, jackasses in I love Jersey shore muscle t's, and I will report my findings.
I shall brave the urban jungle as I once did. I will slip unnoticed through their ranks and really get back to where I should be. Though I have come a long way, and I would not willingly go backwards, I feel a kinship to this sort of thing, a legacy that bleeds through my impassioned writing should come out and play. This legacy should be the real heart and soul of all the things that make up me. I should stop pretending that my place is here, in the confines of my apartment, or in the inviting warmth of friend's insulated locales. My place is with my people.
Tonight I shall go walkabout.
P.S. Though this is sort of a lame post, I am somewhat proud of it because of all the references. I said somewhere in there some nonsense about being all the parts of me, and in this post I think I achieved it. Self deprecation, Kevin Smith, Star Wars, Star Trek (which sucks btw), music, dirty humour, clean humour, and self recrimination. Yay me!
Thursday, April 14, 2011
Yer Momma
I feel so guilty about not having a list yesterday I think I am going to over compensate, cause you know, I owe you or something.
The following is a list of things my mother never taught me that might have made life easier.
1. Internet rejection is as painful as real rejection. Seriously you felt the need to send me a note to tell me I am funny and charming and seem nice..... aaaaand I am not good looking enough? Jesus.
2. Short people are bad for you, sort of like the plague.
3. You shouldn't annoy Kevin Smith's publicist.... on multiple occassions.
4. Funny is over rated. If given the choice, most people, male or female will go for a 6 pack over a sense of humour. Nobody gets it on with a joke.
5. Same applies for kindness. You can't get an orgasm from caring.
6. Confidence is never showing the other person you care about their opinion.
7. Never write a blog post 5 minutes after a stupid person hurts your feelings. It belittles you and your work.
8. Having expectations of others is your fault not theirs. If they dissapoint you it is because you projected your own demands not theirs. A person will rarely step outside of their own character no matter how much it means to you.
9. This list is depressing.
10. I should bring the funny.
11. Here comes the funny.
12. It's ok to like fish, because they don't have any feelings.
13. When a bounty hunter corners you in a bar you MUST shoot first. The bounty hunter is at the disadvantage because the fat sluglike creature paying him wants you alive, whereas you want the bounty hunter dead. Waiting for him to make the first move is just silly.
14. Workahol > alcohol > drugs. At least in prestige. They all perform the same task, diverting one from acknowledging their life, but workahol only causes broken relationships, social dysfunction, heart disease and stroke... hey wait a second....
15. You don`t need to be good to be a success. You just have to exploit someone else's good. I am looking at you Dave Grohl.
16. You can also succeed by exploiting someone else's bad. I am looking at you Charlie Sheen's Posse.
17. Lists make you look cool and on top of things, even if they are full of self recrimination, doubt and angst.
18. Never give your love away for free cause then no one will appreciate it. Note: Love does not include compassion in the previous sentence.
19. When incarcerated, fear the cobra, otherwise it is just a horrible movie or a pet for someone who hates their parents.
20. I like you still. #NotIntendedAsAFactualStatement.
21. Always be trendy and # outside of twitter cause twitter peeps will think they are part of the in crowd when they read it and others will think you're cool because they don't get it and that must mean you know something they don't.
22. When a Chinese buffet is good you can solve all your problems, when it is bad you just spent 10 bucks on shit, and you have to eat a lot of it because you are at a buffet, and it would be wrong of you to waste the trust placed in someone when given unfettered access to food. It is your duty to eat all that you can not a suggestion.
23. Landlords are like women, you're not allowed to shoot em. Besides, you clearly lack property on which to hide the body.
24. Farting can improve a back ache but it also smells and so should be done in private.
25. Always let them see you sweat because it tells them that you are working, but seriously dude, never let them smell you sweat, that's just gross.
There are just some of the things my mom forget to mention while I was growing up. If you have any feel free to post them or email them to me.
The following is a list of things my mother never taught me that might have made life easier.
1. Internet rejection is as painful as real rejection. Seriously you felt the need to send me a note to tell me I am funny and charming and seem nice..... aaaaand I am not good looking enough? Jesus.
2. Short people are bad for you, sort of like the plague.
3. You shouldn't annoy Kevin Smith's publicist.... on multiple occassions.
4. Funny is over rated. If given the choice, most people, male or female will go for a 6 pack over a sense of humour. Nobody gets it on with a joke.
5. Same applies for kindness. You can't get an orgasm from caring.
6. Confidence is never showing the other person you care about their opinion.
7. Never write a blog post 5 minutes after a stupid person hurts your feelings. It belittles you and your work.
8. Having expectations of others is your fault not theirs. If they dissapoint you it is because you projected your own demands not theirs. A person will rarely step outside of their own character no matter how much it means to you.
9. This list is depressing.
10. I should bring the funny.
11. Here comes the funny.
12. It's ok to like fish, because they don't have any feelings.
13. When a bounty hunter corners you in a bar you MUST shoot first. The bounty hunter is at the disadvantage because the fat sluglike creature paying him wants you alive, whereas you want the bounty hunter dead. Waiting for him to make the first move is just silly.
14. Workahol > alcohol > drugs. At least in prestige. They all perform the same task, diverting one from acknowledging their life, but workahol only causes broken relationships, social dysfunction, heart disease and stroke... hey wait a second....
15. You don`t need to be good to be a success. You just have to exploit someone else's good. I am looking at you Dave Grohl.
16. You can also succeed by exploiting someone else's bad. I am looking at you Charlie Sheen's Posse.
17. Lists make you look cool and on top of things, even if they are full of self recrimination, doubt and angst.
18. Never give your love away for free cause then no one will appreciate it. Note: Love does not include compassion in the previous sentence.
19. When incarcerated, fear the cobra, otherwise it is just a horrible movie or a pet for someone who hates their parents.
20. I like you still. #NotIntendedAsAFactualStatement.
21. Always be trendy and # outside of twitter cause twitter peeps will think they are part of the in crowd when they read it and others will think you're cool because they don't get it and that must mean you know something they don't.
22. When a Chinese buffet is good you can solve all your problems, when it is bad you just spent 10 bucks on shit, and you have to eat a lot of it because you are at a buffet, and it would be wrong of you to waste the trust placed in someone when given unfettered access to food. It is your duty to eat all that you can not a suggestion.
23. Landlords are like women, you're not allowed to shoot em. Besides, you clearly lack property on which to hide the body.
24. Farting can improve a back ache but it also smells and so should be done in private.
25. Always let them see you sweat because it tells them that you are working, but seriously dude, never let them smell you sweat, that's just gross.
There are just some of the things my mom forget to mention while I was growing up. If you have any feel free to post them or email them to me.
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
Break It Down
Let me begin by apologizing for the interruption of the regularly scheduled broadcast. Many writers I know would have slogged through their current head space and churned out second rate product. I am not that guy.... anymore. I used to be that guy when I wrote for radio and television. It never mattered if I was in to this weeks lawyer's suck skit, I had to write it, and write it I did.
Now I have a bit more luxury since I am the head of this venture. I can do what I want, and today I do not feel classy, sophisticated or mature.
Some might say that is the perfect mindset for my type of writing, and those people would be correct. I score a certain level of hit with my juvenile sense of humour. Boobies. And it provides me with smelly farts and a comfortable warm feeling (haha) that someone, somewhere finds me the slightest bit entertaining, but it is cold comfort to me right now.
The problem with my head space is that it is not what you would call a happy go lucky immature rambling combines with eye opening pseudo spirituality place. It is more the self punishing, you're no good because you are old and still acting like a child sort of mind scape.
Next week I turn old. Very Old. Ridiculously old. It is not just one of those fake old numbers that people look at and go aha! yer old, here's your old guy mug, you' geezer hat and have a happy birthday. This one is for realz.
I turn 35.
I can't believe I just admitted that out loud and on the internets. There it is kids, I am old and there is no turning back or denying it.
There are such things as desired demographics. Generally speaking the 18-34 demographic is wanted because they are impressionable and have tons of disposable cash. They are also trendy and hip. They are the ones people think are cool because they are young, beautiful and influential among their peer group. These people are in to the pop musics and the rock and or roll thing. They have ideas and are go getters. They have energy, they have youth and they have balls.
In one week I go from that to being old.
The next demographic is called 35 to dead of natural causes. This new demographic is for people who are old and set in their ways. All of the sudden they listen to new country and Celine Dion. They have little spare time, even less energy and never seem to come up with anything new. These people are considered lucrative because they buy the big ticket items, but otherwise no one gives a crap what they think other than politicians since these are the people who vote. Yes that's right kids, these people are the reason politics is the way they are.... so that's cool right?
I am about to join people who are marking time towards their doom. I am about to become the old guy.
I can no longer feel good about listening to rock music. Breaking Benjamin does not make me cool, it makes me the old guy who tries to look cool.
I have to stop watching The Daily Show because it is for younger people who are cutting edge thinkers. The Colbert Report too.
Here's the thing that is troubling me. As an old dude, I am a failure. I am not set in my ways, I do not have a job that is going to provide for my retirement. I do not have savings or a portfolio.
I have no assets or prospects.
I am merely an old overweight fool who pines for shit he cannot have.
Here's where I get all sad about this writing thing. I am the guy who has always dreamed, like all young people do. I have dreamed of being a writer and making a difference. I have dreamed of helping people get clean. I have dreamed of helping kids escape their destinies and find new paths.
I have dreamed these dreams of the young, and I am still dreaming because something keeps me from grabbing that brass ring.
Over a week ago I wrote a glowing email about my writing and why literary agents should pick me up and shop my brainchildren around. It is full of grandeur, insight and persuasive salesmanship.
I did not hit send.
I cannot hit send.
I am afraid to hit send.
Now I am afraid I am about to become old without a single dream coming true.
There was a time in my life, actually three times in my life, when I never thought I would make it to old. The first time was when I was underneath a park bench. You can read about that here. The second time was when I was all strung out and completely messed up on the drugs. You can read about that here. The final time was when I was misdiagnosed as having liver damage that was going to kill me before I was 35. Clearly, unless I suddenly drop dead (which according to my biofeedback after having tried jogging today may happen) in the next week was incorrect.
I have never thought about the future because the future was never going to happen. Who cares about the future when there is a here and now to live in.
I am thinking that there might be a future. If I have survived this long there is little reason to think it is not going to continue. Apart from the actual problem with my liver, which is easily controlled by diet, I am ridiculously healthy. Despite all the crap I did to my body, and I did a lot of crap, I have a strong healthy heart and lungs that can oxygenate my blood like a damn athlete. I kid you not. I am a large dude with the blood pressure of a damn vegan marathon runner.
My body has betrayed me.
My body has conspired to keep me alive until the future happened.
I am reminded of a song in which the lyric goes, "teenage angst has paid off well/now I'm bored and old." I will give you three guesses as to who wrote that line.
What really sucks is that I am starting to gain some traction in this whole thing, but I can't keep up the happy exterior. I am hitting a breakdown. I am hitting that wall of looking back at what I have done and not being pleased. Then I look to my left and right and don't see what I want. I look forward and it is all a blur, nothing coming in to focus because I am lacking confidence and direction.
I want to be able to write funny. I want to be able to entertain you today, but I would have to wear clown make up to do it, and nobody likes clowns, not even clowns.
So here I am, laying bare to you the situation. I am old. I am not cool. I am sincere. I am trying hard to get somewhere but cock blocking myself. I am lonely. I am bored. I have a million dollar brain with a ten cent self esteem.
I wish I could blame someone for the fact that I am old, but really there is no one to blame but myself. I let this happen. I slacked on the drinking and drugs. I started eating actual food. I started living a normal life. I started exercising for crying out loud.
I am to blame for being old.
Sheesh no I am mad at me.
I guess there is nothing left to do but make some damn lemonade.
Oh good, old people like lemonade.
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
Chaos Theory.
In a lush field somewhere in the Chinese interior there is a butterfly. Not necessarily a beautiful butterfly, but pretty enough to gain the attention of a little girl. The girl smiles the smile of a child who has just discovered the meaning of life. She wants to grab the butterfly and keep it forever. Not knowing what to do, the little girl pauses for a second, wondering if her dad would know what to do.
Though Kayla had been hurt before, she still didn't comprehend what was happening. How could he be so mad as to pull a knife on her? How had she pissed this man off to the point where he was thrusting a large knife at her throat? Why didn't her foot listen to her and slam down on the gas pedal?
With expert precision the bad man plunged the business end of his weapon into the soft yielding flesh of Kayla's neck.
Fatal wound notwithstanding, her foot finally finds a home on the gas pedal. The car surges forward, and the bad man loses his grip on the window. His already shattered knee gives way,and he crumples on to the drenched pavement under the car. Massive injuries to most of his internal organs kill him in short order. Half a block away, the car comes to a halt as Kayla's life does.
A boy named Billy is sitting next to his babysitter watching T.V., not knowing in an hour he will be in the dreaded "system," and his life would change forever. How he will hate that bad man, and all men really. And years later, he won't realise he is following in the bad man's footsteps when he takes up a career in pain and suffering.
Thousands of miles away, possibly moments later, maybe decades, a man stands in an apartment alcove, biding his time. The man is smart, attractive, fit, and thoroughly evil. To his left a rot iron staircase leads to the homes of people he doesn't know. To his left, a brick wall is all that separates him from a young couple and their newborn child. Above his head rests a light bulb that has been ever so slightly twisted from it's snug resting place. In his pocket, tonight's weapon of choice, a sharp carbon steel Christmas tree blade.
None of this matters to him here, and it's doubtful it ever matters to him. What matters is his target. The young lovely wife that his client is no longer interested in. Across the street she sits in an open window, trying to allow the brewing storm to cool her off on this early August evening. Her thoughts rest only with the reality show she is watching.
The man in black decides the time is right. His muscles tense, synapses fire, he jerks forward. This surprising unfluid motion for a man of his skills is interrupted though. Perhaps a reprieve for the young lady, who's only crime was being a trophy with too much rust, and a collection of too much dust around the middle.
A flash of light brightens the sky. A flash that illuminates everything. The kind of light that lays bare all of our intentions, showing our motives in a shock of blue white across our faces. If anyone had seen the bad man at that very moment, they would have seen his plan, his grotesque motivation tragically written across his normally handsome features, turning him into the monster that lurks just below the surface.
Then, the crash of thunder. It started far away, slowly gaining earthshaking status as it rolled across flat land, carried on a stiff cold wind. When the chill hits the man, it instantly froze, stiff as the bad man's black empty heart sublimated the air straight to ice.
Two blocks away a pretty young blond sits impatiently at a red light. Hunching her shoulders she peers outside the top of her windshield, the clouds almost enough to push her happiness to the side with their stark grey-black heaviness. Nothing could make her unhappy right now though. She had just closed her first house. She was now officially a real estate agent. Some of us may sit here and say, big deal, it's just a house; but, for Kayla it was the realisation of a dream too long in the waiting. She had finally achieved status in the profession she had always wanted to be a part of.
The only dampening of her spirits was the irritation of having to wait until she got home to share her achievement with her young son. To be able to tell Billy that they were on their way, and they did it all without Billy's bastard father.
Then the power went out in the neighbourhood. For most people an annoyance, but for Kayla, a sign from God that she was doing the right thing. Her red light had just switched to a four way stop. When it was her turn she accelerated into the intersection and carefully banked left.
The man smiled, God was on his side tonight. The power going off darkened the entire street. Somehow, someway, twilight had given way to the cold clammy grip of a stormy night. It was not one of those slowly waning twilights that seem to last forever when you are young and in love, but a quick flip of the switch change, like the one's that always seem to happen when you're having fun and your curfew is darkness.
The man saw safety in the darkness. A mask that slips over the whole body, obscuring his presence and his purpose.
A block away now, Kayla is still smiling to herself. The smile won't last.
Somewhere in the bowels of her cheap old car a wire pops, fizzes and shorts out. Her headlights blink out. Her smile freezes in place as she realises that it is uncommonly dark on the street. No matter, she was almost home. Just around the next right, and a couple of football fields down. In front of her, an oncoming car illuminates her intersection as if it was the driver's destiny to help Kayla on her way this bleak distressing night..
If the bad man wasn't so single minded, so bloodthirsty; his peripheral vision might have saved so many lives that night. As it was, he didn't see the light flickering off of a rusty old ford as it slipped around the corner and headed his way.
Kayla's car hit a puddle and she lost her steering for a split second. Her eyes flowed to the right with her windshield, her foot went to the accelerator. She hoped that a bit of speed would help her tires find their hold.
The bad man cared little for Kayla and her automotive hassles. He had a job to do. He was in the street now. Singularly focused on his sick fantasy of blood and gore. A fantasy he was going to make a reality once again.
Still accelerating, Kayla felt her car hit something, heard the groan of her hated jalopy as something impacted with the tired old metal.
The bad man actually hadn't heard the car, didn't even know that it was a car that turned his world upside down. As the world rotated back to it's proper inclination all air left his lungs as he was violently introduced to Kayla's hood.
As she slammed on the breaks, lightening played a cruel joke on her. When the world was lit like time's square on new years eve, she came face to face with what she'd done. She saw the face of a man looking at her with cold dead eyes. She mistook the look for actual death. To her credit, she had never looked into the eyes of a confused sociopath.
From his perspective, the bad man saw only a scared doe, who's eyes defied the laws of nature, expanding beyond the sockets that held them. The bad man did not mistake what he saw. He saw the focus for some hatred. He saw a victim waiting to happen.
The bad man's hand slipped into his pocket, cold angry fingers clutching an instrument of death. Lurching, he made reassuring noises as he rounded on the driver's side window.
Though Kayla had been hurt before, she still didn't comprehend what was happening. How could he be so mad as to pull a knife on her? How had she pissed this man off to the point where he was thrusting a large knife at her throat? Why didn't her foot listen to her and slam down on the gas pedal?
With expert precision the bad man plunged the business end of his weapon into the soft yielding flesh of Kayla's neck.
Fatal wound notwithstanding, her foot finally finds a home on the gas pedal. The car surges forward, and the bad man loses his grip on the window. His already shattered knee gives way,and he crumples on to the drenched pavement under the car. Massive injuries to most of his internal organs kill him in short order. Half a block away, the car comes to a halt as Kayla's life does.
Strangely, the newborn child, a girl, who was mere feet away from the bad man a few minutes ago, will meet that same cop's son in college. Their love will spawn generations of dedicated people who will carry on the work of their ancestors, only on a grander, and slightly more effective manner.
A boy named Billy is sitting next to his babysitter watching T.V., not knowing in an hour he will be in the dreaded "system," and his life would change forever. How he will hate that bad man, and all men really. And years later, he won't realise he is following in the bad man's footsteps when he takes up a career in pain and suffering.
A man at a nearby gas station finishes checking the day's receipts. He slowly gets up out of his seat, joints creaking, bones aching, and shuffles to the front door. He looks outside, the power comes back on, he smiles and flips the sign to CLOSED.
Monday, April 11, 2011
Podcast S01E05
Here is this week's fabulous podcast. It features little bits of conversation over several days. Notice how I call back to several jokes, and how I lose all masculinity.
You can download the MP3 here.
Things You Should Know:
1. We are less explicit than last time, but there are still a few naughty words. Also, stop when you hear the end music if you don't like female mammary tissue.
2. Pants are a waste of space.
3. We discuss the necessity for back up office supplies.
4. Some idiot (not me) hits on Alley. BIG MISTAKE!
5. I break Alyssa Milano's heart....again.
6. Who likes landlords?
7. Pulling girl's pigtails still does not work.
8. Neither does being sweet.
9. I googled porn for realz people, all for your entertainment.... and uhmmm purely for educational purposes.
10. There is an inside joke about the number of Hungarians who read this blog.
11. We provide important public services, such as the dangers of the home office and what is good purse security.
12. Alley is not a substance abuser.... I swear!
13. I become a gay man in Alley's eyes.
14. Despite everything I say, she owns me, she is the boss of me.
15. Who knows where jeans come from, they just appear. Uh huh.
16. The shortest episode has the longest list.
17. That is not me she is talking about at the end.
As always, we welcome your comments.
You can post them here (you do not have to sign up to comment) or you can email us.
onemonkeymedia@gmail.com
alleythemonkeytamer@gmail.com
Our Twitter.
Our Facebook.
Our Free Gift To You.
You can download the MP3 here.
Things You Should Know:
1. We are less explicit than last time, but there are still a few naughty words. Also, stop when you hear the end music if you don't like female mammary tissue.
2. Pants are a waste of space.
3. We discuss the necessity for back up office supplies.
4. Some idiot (not me) hits on Alley. BIG MISTAKE!
5. I break Alyssa Milano's heart....again.
6. Who likes landlords?
7. Pulling girl's pigtails still does not work.
8. Neither does being sweet.
9. I googled porn for realz people, all for your entertainment.... and uhmmm purely for educational purposes.
10. There is an inside joke about the number of Hungarians who read this blog.
11. We provide important public services, such as the dangers of the home office and what is good purse security.
12. Alley is not a substance abuser.... I swear!
13. I become a gay man in Alley's eyes.
14. Despite everything I say, she owns me, she is the boss of me.
15. Who knows where jeans come from, they just appear. Uh huh.
16. The shortest episode has the longest list.
17. That is not me she is talking about at the end.
As always, we welcome your comments.
You can post them here (you do not have to sign up to comment) or you can email us.
onemonkeymedia@gmail.com
alleythemonkeytamer@gmail.com
Our Twitter.
Our Facebook.
Our Free Gift To You.
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