Well, here we are, 2012. The prophesized end of the world. So, this year's resolutions are going to aim a little bit higher because there just might not be a next year (though I doubt that). Regardless, here we go. For you, my readers, my list of Resolutions for 2012:
1: In the next 12 months I want to lose 15 pounds. Yes, yes, I realize how cliche it is to resolve to lose weight and yes, yes, I realize that I'm REALLY not that overweight. But, it's an exercise in dicipline and will power. Those are two things that always need a little reinforcment with me.
2: By the end of the year I will have collected, contributed, edited and self-published a collection of stories authored by a group of writers that I find to be incredibly talented. By God, I will leave my mark on this world if it's the last thing I ever do. (And it, quite possibly, might be....)
3: Speaking of bread; my brother-in-literary-arms, Madison Daniel, has his first novel being published this year; Ember. Perhaps you've seen me spreading the spark all over facebook. Well, my next resolution is to continue promoting MD until his book hits the NY Times Bestsellers and the, inevitable, movie is written, cast and filmed for the entire world to see. Maybe you've heard of some little thing called Twilight? Yeah, this is going to be better.
4: I like who I am, right now. So, I resolve to keep being the same snarky, smarty, quick witted, strong willed, slightly egocentric, sarcastic, smarmy, silly, self-sustaining, lightly judgmental, possibly racist, good natured, kind hearted, paradoxical, self-assured, quasi-pompous and, overall, awesome person that I discovered in 2011.
5: I want a dog.
And there you have it, true believers. This is what I'm working towards this year; our final year on the planet. I hope you all have some big plans for this year. You know, just in case.
Sunday, January 8, 2012
Thursday, December 22, 2011
Saturday, December 17, 2011
Did You Hear What Happened to Romeo?
Apparently, the dude offed himself when Juliet "died".
Now, I love Shakespeare. Anyone who knows me will confirm that. However, for people to say that this is the greatest love story to have ever been written? Well, that's just silly. This story is a tragedy. What's worse is when people want to compare their own love story to Romeo & Juliet. Especially these days.
The only people who can even, REMOTELY, compare themselves to Mr. Montague and Miss Capulet are kids who are in high school and here's why. Their relationships last about as long as R&J's did. They have way more rules placed on them by their parents; like R-Dog and J-Lady. Their relationships are about as deep as these two "love at first sight" fools. Romeo and Juliet had a relationship that lasted about a week and couldn't be anything more than a lusty, superficial desire for each other. I mean, seriously, when did they have time to get to know anything about each other?
Hey, Romeo, when is Juliet's birthday?
Juliet, how many women has Romeo slept with?
These are two, really simple, questions that neither of them would have known. And, lastly, after the relationship, inevitably, ends; they want to kill themselves. Romeo and Juliet were only high school kids, themselves, after all. If this is the greatest love story ever written then every kid in high school has already lived the greatest love story of their life. And you and I both know that's just not true. It's high school. It's petty. It's cruel. And it ends with the promise of greater things after it.
So, any of you out there who insist that you're Juliet and Bobby Blowjob down the street is Romeo, I immediatly demand you stop. You'll then find out either my address and/or phone number and I want a personal apology from you. Then! I want you to fly your happy ass to England, unless you already reside there or are there on holiday, find Shakespeare's place of rest and apologize to him for trivializing one of the greatest works of literature ever written.
Do this and maybe, MAYBE, I can find it in my heart to forgive you.
Sunday, December 11, 2011
Def Poetry Jam
To fulfill one's destiny is like growing from child to adult
Neither road is easy to traverse, filled with heartache and sorrow
Forks in the road lead to dead-ends and unpassable
canyons; decrepit bridges cross tumultuous rapids and unspeakable
perils wait in the dark for those wandering too far off the righteous path,
while every turn is blind with no way of knowing what is lies ahead.
However, for those willing to make the trek and follow the
path of to self-enlightenment; the reward is everlasting.
Neither road is easy to traverse, filled with heartache and sorrow
Forks in the road lead to dead-ends and unpassable
canyons; decrepit bridges cross tumultuous rapids and unspeakable
perils wait in the dark for those wandering too far off the righteous path,
while every turn is blind with no way of knowing what is lies ahead.
However, for those willing to make the trek and follow the
path of to self-enlightenment; the reward is everlasting.
Friday, December 9, 2011
Short Story 'lude #2
Tears were streaming down her face; coal black from the eyeliner and mascara that she always wears. Her thin, pointed nose was cherry red from her continually wiping away the dripping mess that was coming from both nostrils. Her, normally, cobalt blue eyes were a dull grey, puffy and smeared in a black warpaint. On most days, her chestnut hair was straightened down to the tops of her shoulders in a veil of perfection. Today, it was tangled and strewn around like she'd been standing in one of those machines that simulate a hurricane.
I used to think she was so pretty.
How people look on a daily basis, it isn't how they really look. It's all a facade; a masquerade designed to attract the right friends, to attract the right mate. It's been my experience that you only see how people really look in rare circumstances. The first is if they are sick and/or in the hospital. Most times people already feel so bad about themselves that they don't see the need to put on that mask. The second is if you break their heart. That's when the people we are become exposed for the entire world to see. The best is if you break their heart in public. Watching them try to stay composed and keep that wall up so the world stays out is worth any slanderous, derogatory and vindictive thing hurled in your direction. That's how this all started, actually.
Marie.
I used to think she was so pretty.
We met in a coffee shop. Pretty cliche' right? Like every other love story you hear about, we hit it off right away.
Laughing.
Flirting.
Fireworks.
Again, like every other love story, when we were together nothing else even mattered. Blown tire? Whatever. Lost job? Who cares. Shitty day at work? There's always tomorrow.
Everything was a paradise; flowing smoothly day in and day out. Then, one day, something changed. I can't even put my finger on what it was that changed but, everything was different. There was no laughing.
No flirting.
No fireworks.
I knew something had to be done about it so, I decided to be proactive. That's when she said it.
Leave me alone.
And
I don't love you, anymore.
That brings us back to the here and the now. That brings us back to why I'm sitting in my living room with Marie's blood staining itself into my hands and smeared across my face. That resolves the reason that Marie is propped up in the leather recliner across from me with her throat slit; bloody knife lying, shiny and crimson, on her lap and her head lulling to the side.
I used to think she was so pretty.
I used to think she was so pretty.
How people look on a daily basis, it isn't how they really look. It's all a facade; a masquerade designed to attract the right friends, to attract the right mate. It's been my experience that you only see how people really look in rare circumstances. The first is if they are sick and/or in the hospital. Most times people already feel so bad about themselves that they don't see the need to put on that mask. The second is if you break their heart. That's when the people we are become exposed for the entire world to see. The best is if you break their heart in public. Watching them try to stay composed and keep that wall up so the world stays out is worth any slanderous, derogatory and vindictive thing hurled in your direction. That's how this all started, actually.
Marie.
I used to think she was so pretty.
We met in a coffee shop. Pretty cliche' right? Like every other love story you hear about, we hit it off right away.
Laughing.
Flirting.
Fireworks.
Again, like every other love story, when we were together nothing else even mattered. Blown tire? Whatever. Lost job? Who cares. Shitty day at work? There's always tomorrow.
Everything was a paradise; flowing smoothly day in and day out. Then, one day, something changed. I can't even put my finger on what it was that changed but, everything was different. There was no laughing.
No flirting.
No fireworks.
I knew something had to be done about it so, I decided to be proactive. That's when she said it.
Leave me alone.
And
I don't love you, anymore.
That brings us back to the here and the now. That brings us back to why I'm sitting in my living room with Marie's blood staining itself into my hands and smeared across my face. That resolves the reason that Marie is propped up in the leather recliner across from me with her throat slit; bloody knife lying, shiny and crimson, on her lap and her head lulling to the side.
I used to think she was so pretty.
Sunday, December 4, 2011
Recollections 2011
As we're winding down the clock on 2011 I figured that I would share with you, my faithful readers, some of the things that I've learned this year.
1: Sometimes, no matter how hard you try, some things just don't work out. And that's ok. What is important is making the effort.
2: It is NOT ok to pay for goods and/or services with gold pants.
3: People will forgive most anything if you're good at sports.
4: I have the potential to be a successful writer.
5: A majority of women only care about how a guy looks or how much money he makes.
6: Despite the increased accessability to knowledge, each generation gets dumber and dumber.
7: My generation was the last good generation.
8: People will only protest in a way that is convenient to them.
9: While a lot of people won't even work one job that they consider to be beneath them; I was able to work three.
10: There is nothing more important in life than having a group of great friends. They can get you through anything.
I've learned many, many more lessons. But, those can be saved for another day. Thanks for sticking with me, readers. It means a lot.
1: Sometimes, no matter how hard you try, some things just don't work out. And that's ok. What is important is making the effort.
2: It is NOT ok to pay for goods and/or services with gold pants.
3: People will forgive most anything if you're good at sports.
4: I have the potential to be a successful writer.
5: A majority of women only care about how a guy looks or how much money he makes.
6: Despite the increased accessability to knowledge, each generation gets dumber and dumber.
7: My generation was the last good generation.
8: People will only protest in a way that is convenient to them.
9: While a lot of people won't even work one job that they consider to be beneath them; I was able to work three.
10: There is nothing more important in life than having a group of great friends. They can get you through anything.
I've learned many, many more lessons. But, those can be saved for another day. Thanks for sticking with me, readers. It means a lot.
Friday, November 25, 2011
Fresh, Hot Deals
Well, here we are again.
Black Friday, you bastard.
If this isn't the epitome of where the world is going wrong, I don't know what is. I really don't know who to even blame for this terrible phenomenon's increased presence each year. The customers, whose rampant consumerism drags their over-stuffed and under-slept carcasses out of bed at all hours of the morning(?) in the foulest of moods to store after store after store; treating, not only, their fellow savages like the scum of the Earth but, even worse, treating the clerks and proprieters of the establishments they're ravaging like a harem of whores there to do whatever they demand. Or the stores who open earlier and earlier every single year, dragging its employees away from their families on one of the few holidays that retail workers STILL have (for now) to be subjected to the abuses that are heaped upon them like a smorgasboard of rotting Thanksgiving leftovers. Maybe it's an unholy combination of both.
Regardless, this needs to stop, people. Soon, Thanksgiving won't even be a holiday because retail is going to force it's employees to work that day (Old Navy) and people aren't going to be eating dinner with their families and spending time together because they'll be too busy shopping on Gray Thursday. Then, of course, stores are going to be open at 4 a.m. on Gray Thursday with all the raging deals and best buys of the year...until Black Friday...when the deals get hotter and more exclusive. Ultimately, this can all be attributed to the commercialization of Christmas, which, apparently, instead of being one day (December, 25th for those of you who have forgotten) is, actually, two months long; starting on November the first. What better way to celebrate the things you're thanful for in your life than to berate and belittle your fellow man?
Since, Occupy is the new big thing, here's my suggestion: Let's Occupy Christmas. 1% of people have to work 99% of the holiday. That seems unfair. I'll set up my hippie commune in the middle of the mall; I'll see you there.
Cyber Monday; you can continue as you are.
Black Friday, you bastard.
If this isn't the epitome of where the world is going wrong, I don't know what is. I really don't know who to even blame for this terrible phenomenon's increased presence each year. The customers, whose rampant consumerism drags their over-stuffed and under-slept carcasses out of bed at all hours of the morning(?) in the foulest of moods to store after store after store; treating, not only, their fellow savages like the scum of the Earth but, even worse, treating the clerks and proprieters of the establishments they're ravaging like a harem of whores there to do whatever they demand. Or the stores who open earlier and earlier every single year, dragging its employees away from their families on one of the few holidays that retail workers STILL have (for now) to be subjected to the abuses that are heaped upon them like a smorgasboard of rotting Thanksgiving leftovers. Maybe it's an unholy combination of both.
Regardless, this needs to stop, people. Soon, Thanksgiving won't even be a holiday because retail is going to force it's employees to work that day (Old Navy) and people aren't going to be eating dinner with their families and spending time together because they'll be too busy shopping on Gray Thursday. Then, of course, stores are going to be open at 4 a.m. on Gray Thursday with all the raging deals and best buys of the year...until Black Friday...when the deals get hotter and more exclusive. Ultimately, this can all be attributed to the commercialization of Christmas, which, apparently, instead of being one day (December, 25th for those of you who have forgotten) is, actually, two months long; starting on November the first. What better way to celebrate the things you're thanful for in your life than to berate and belittle your fellow man?
Since, Occupy is the new big thing, here's my suggestion: Let's Occupy Christmas. 1% of people have to work 99% of the holiday. That seems unfair. I'll set up my hippie commune in the middle of the mall; I'll see you there.
Cyber Monday; you can continue as you are.
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