Category Archives: Rambling

#TBT, Rambling, Xanga

#TBT – Aprih 24th, 2011 – Stab at Stream of Consciousness

I don’t have Instagram and I don’t take pictures but I do have 163 (no lie) entries from my old Xanga account. Not all of them are from my proudest moments but I figured I’d share some of the ones I enjoyed writing and reading. The first one today is from April 24th 2011. I have been obsessed with writing a stream of consciousness novel for sometime and this was one of my attempts at writing like that…

There are now almost 7 billion people living in this world. Seriously? Do you know how many people that is? I don’t. I can’t even imagine knowing over 100 people but seriously think about it. Everyone you see during your day has a back story, some story to tell. How can it be real? I know it is but it is mind boggling to think about. To make matters worse it was actually proven that just about anyone in the world can be connected to anyone else through 6 people, like that game 6 degrees of Kevin Bacon but with real life shit. ABC or some outfit like that, I love when people use outfit like that and not like something you wear, did a study and connected a couple of random people through 6 people or less. Seriously? Shit people write movies and add extras that don’t get names but you mean to tell me that everyone I see everyday and even the people I don’t living in 3rd world countries have back stories? I mean no one is probably as interesting as me but I bet some are like that old dude form thos Dos Equis commercials, man do I envy him. I love those commercials, much more than I love the beer, I remember the first time I had the beer it was up at DSU for Cinco de Mayo, Jake had purchased the beer and I thought it was the best beer ever, way better than that shit Sol other people were drinking. I thought it was so good I made Easy Mac with it. Then I chugged a bottle of Tequlia, hooked up with some girl, threw up and then passed out on the porch. Woke up the next day and had no idea where I was but I wasn’t the biggest ass hole that night. Since that night though I have pretty much retained that ass hold drunk title, am I proud of it, I mean I guess a part of me is but I guess I have to grow up eventually, ugh. In other news I learned that I should really stop planning things because I am much better on the fly. What I mean is that I like the plan things out in my head and when they don’t go as planned I get flustered and make thins awkward. Really I should just let things roll and go along with things because I am less awkward, I know hard to believe, but it works like 1 out of 6 times. For instance I was at the Olde State Tavern out in Media last week, I am almost like a regular there, weird I know. I just found out that my boy Phillip goes there, he’s the man, I need to party with him. Anyway so I was there and once again it was awkward at some point. The week before when I was there, there was this db and his db son drinking a db drink, half bucca and half jager, disgusting. Did you know that Cee Lo Green’s real name is Thomas DeCarlo Callaway, I mean we could be related right we both got soul and dress like Elton John. Man I should have been born in the 70s. Great music. White pants. Long hair. Depressed. So anyway back to the olde state, I was there with my friend Jacqueline and her friend Emily, I think she spells it some other way but whatever and there was this weirdo there. So of course they were talking about him because that’s how they roll. Well the dude apparently starts glaring at our table. I had my back to him and I was like shit I really don’t want trouble but I get one look at him and I say well he looks medicated tonight so that’s good he wont be dangerous just awkward. Well he glares at us again and finally comes over to the table and is like stuttering and saying um a lot and taking forever to get words out and finally asks how is it possible that they are two beautiful girls at this table and only one guy. So on the fly, see I tied it all together, I respond with well buddy I am going to let you in on a little secret, and you can’t tell anyone but we are polygamists, they are both my wives. Well the look on his face was priceless, he bought every word of it and totally believed it, congratulated me and left us alone all night. At the end of the night he actually came over and told me how lucky I was. The weirder part is though that we actually thought the people next to us were plygs. There was one guy macking it with two chicks, so either he was a divine priesthood holder with sister wives or just some scum bag banging his girlfriend’s friend. Wait, what’s the difference? I immediately regret saying that cause Bill Hendrickson, spoiler alert, rest in peace, is my man. I am a bit disappointed with the NHL playoff commercials this season. They were so epic last year but this year, not so much. Hopefully they will get better. I also hate how everyone is trying to copy off of the Dos Equis dude in their commercials nowadays. I mean I know imitation is the sincerest form of flattery but do it right. Do you guys like this stream of consciousness entry? I think I might write a novel like that. See what happens though. I love HBO and just about everything they do. I know they fucked up by picking John from Cincinnati over Mad Men but I mean you can’t be perfect unless of course you are the most interesting man in world. I mean but The Wire, The Sopranos, Big Love, True Blood, Temple Grandin, You Don’t Know Jack and now their latest, Cinéma Vérité that sees James Gandolfini return to HBO as a documentary film maker looking to film a true American Family. It is the true story of the first reality TV show that aired on PBS in the 70s. The movie centers around the making of the film and how James Gandolfini’s character influences what happens in the house and how the actual camera crew tries to prevent the family from breaking apart. It was another gem from HBO and I want to now actually see the show from the 70s but apparently you can’t find it. Really Netflix? Letting me down again. I love all this talk of the instant streaming but really every movie I want to watch I have to get the DVD and really that is just too much work. I really should start writing more I mean it gives me an outlet to tell stories that no one wants to hear and it beats having a conversation with yourself. Did you see that new show on FX with that hobbit that looks like Nate Babe? FX is saying it’s a new original comedy but actually it’s an import from Australia I think. Imported form Detroit, the Chrysler 200, might be my new car. Anyway so this new show looks interesting. The main character is about to commit suicide but before he can go through with it his new neighbor shows up and asks if he can watch her dog. Well he sees a guy in the dog suit but everyone else in the world sees a real dog. Kind of like that movie with Mel Gibson and the beaver puppet, no joke that movie was actually made, which gives me hope that my movie with Todd and Nate to a lesser extent can be made. So anyway this dog, a guy in a dog suit, becomes his best friend. Looks interesting at least. I wish sometimes Lucy could talk, that would be ballin. I’ve been home alone with her the past two days. It is very refreshing. I haven’t been home alone since my mom lost her job and I probably never will be again with my Aunt living with us but I enjoyed it so much last night that I stayed in and was sober, weird right? I was thinking though I needed a night to relax and to wake up the next morning without a hangover but don’t worry I am drinking tonight as I am writing this. I love the NHL playoffs I literally could not breathe after the Flyers scored today, thankfully they won and I don’t have to end this entry with I’m out like the Flyers, that would be depressing. I am doing my part and not shaving, nothing new for me really but I am getting a neck beard or a neard as made famous by Koy Detmer, I just realized I am not adding hyperlinks to this entry, deal with it, that is of course if you are still reading this. I am almost at two pages in a Word document. I think I should stop but I might start wring a novel like this.

I’m out like Bill Hendrickson. (spoiler alert)

Standard
Rambling

Dream On

I am not a very visual person. My brain is just not wired that way. It should translate into me taking more pictures but that’s a different story for another day. Everyone’s brain is wired differently but across all those different configurations no one is wired to access 100% of their brains. If someone was wired that way the possibilities would be limitless (anyone see that movie?).

Since I am not a visual person I rarely dream and when I do I only remember clips and phases with many details overlooked. I don’t always see faces, images are not completely processed, the background is not flushed out, etc. On the rare occasion that I do dream and it is one that I retain a good portion of I am always amazed at the power of the subconscious.

For example the other night I dreamt I was buying a birthday card for my grandmother’s 50th birthday party. Now I was not alive when either of my grandmother’s turned 50 but here I was in the store attempting to buy a card. I can still see the aisle (a few more days and I won’t) and there were tons of people in the store buying cards. I saw faces and even almost got into an altercation with another guy buying cards. Now being the sentimental person that I am I wanted the perfect card to make her laugh and cry. I searched through at least six cards. Each card I picked up had a distinct design on the front and distinct words contained within. Two of the cards I picked up didn’t have enough words or I didn’t like the first couple lines so I put them back. The two in the middle said Nana or Grandma on them and I never called her that. The last two were lengthy. My memory fails me now on what they exactly said but they were my feelings in some poetry form.

Where in the hell did all of that come from? I can barely describe places I have been or describe someone but my subconscious is able to create an entire aisle of cards and people shopping. It takes me hours to write a blog entry but my subconscious can whip up beautiful poetry? What the hell, we should be more conscious of our subconscious.

With that being said, I am a firm believer in “sleeping on it.” There have been several times in my life when I have slept on something and in my dream answered a question or was guided in the right direction. I’ve read that the subconscious is a vast library of all your experiences and emotions. We use experiences and emotions when faced with decisions; it is just not fair that we only have access to a limited portion of those tools.

If we had access to more of them I think the possibilities would be limitless. I am not talking about telepathy or being able to do crazy math problems I am just talking about being able to remember where you saw something before or how you felt at a similar time in your life; access to information that could help you when faced with a problem. I love to be informed and it irritates me that I am only able to access my subconscious through uncontrollable dreaming. Someone needs to get me a library card to my subconscious because my dreams just aren’t cutting it.

Standard
Rambling

I Don’t Want to Talk to You but I Have To

Everyone has been in a situation where they have to hold multiple or daily conversations with someone they particularly don’t enjoy. Like you are at work (or class when I was a student) and there is this nice person who always wants to talk to you. They have nothing interesting to say and you couldn’t care less about anything that comes out of their mouth but you have to be polite. I used to dread these situations until I found a way to turn it into a game and make it fun.

If you really don’t like the person and only have to see them on occasion then I suggest you repeat the same story every time you talk to them. Find a way to sway any conversation to the same story and wait and see if they say anything to you. From experience most people don’t say anything at all and either think you are crazy or just know you are an asshole. When I worked at Big Cheese in college they hired this kid who was learning how to drive. He was a really nice kid, kind of dumb and he only made my job harder. So every day I would tell him about how I almost failed my driver’s test but in the end got my license. After a few days I would switch the story up just to see if he would say anything. He never said anything and eventually stopped talking to me.

Now if you do kind of like the person and have to see them just about every day then I suggest that you remember a few of the stories they tell you. Save them somewhere in your memory and be sure to key in on at least one detail. When the person starts to get annoying or you just want out of talking to them begin to tell them the story they told you. The trick is to start the story vague and watch as they start to process what you are saying and just before they realize you are being a jerk hit that key detail hard. If you are really good you can play it off at this point and continue the story vague again at first and then boom another key detail. Perfectly executed, this will always end the conversation and after time people will not believe a word you are saying or even better think everything you tell them is something they told you. This game is even fun to play with people you like. I do it all the time and trust me people love it.

Finally if you really hate the person and don’t want to talk to them pretend like you have to go to the bathroom. If you do this every time you talk to them they will either think you have a small bladder or that you are doing drugs. Either way they won’t talk to you; win-win and that’s how I roll.

Standard
Rambling

63

Nooch. 63 is my number. Today is June 3rd or 6/3 which kind of makes today my day. Usually I celebrate this day in some way shape of form but I am taking this day off. I guess I really shouldn’t though because technically it is the 10 year anniversary of today being my day. 63 is kind of a weird number to be my number and I wish there was a funnier story about how it came about but like most things in life it kind of took on a life of its own.

Remember back in the day when people hung out for hours on AOL or AIM? I was one of those kids. A friend of mine was also one of those kids and he would love to come over my house and sit on AOL for hours because he had dial up and I had maybe it was DSL at the time? IDK but this ginger would sit on my computer for hours and expect me to just sit there and watch him talk to people in these little stupid boxes. That shit wasn’t going to fly with me so I started messing with his messages. I would randomly hit the enter button and hit other buttons to make the messages not make sense. Well I was seated to his right most of these days and it just happened to turn out that the keys I would hit the most would be 6 and 3. Soon every message had 63 in it and because he knew he could not beat me, my friend joined in on the fun and everyone begun to question what 63 meant.

Now I am still not sure how this happened because we weren’t the most popular kids in high school but 63 spread throughout our class and soon everyone wanted to know what 63 was all about. Naturally we had no answer because as you just read above, the story is mostly stupid and happened by circumstance. Anyway our inability to answer the question only spread the mystery and enigma surrounding 63. Suddenly it seemed as 63 was everywhere and unavoidable; I was even on page 63 of the yearbook and to this day my crowning achievement in life was reaching 63,000 miles in a car on 63rd street.

My friends and I also said nooch pretty much every day and somehow 63 and nooch became linked and the rest as they say is history. Whenever someone sees 63 or looks at the calendar and notices that it is June 3rd, they think of me and inevitability say nooch. So today my friend 63 I salute you and even though it is probably a bad idea, I will raise 63 ounces of alcohol in your honor.

Standard