I'll be damned

A co-worker of mine who I mentioned this blog to, not only, asked me for the address but actually looked it up. She read past posts, comments - then she went into the Something Else I Wrote link and read the one act play in progress that I had posted there. She had a a some positive feedback, and even addressed a few of the concerns I had with the script, and I didn't even have to prompt her.

Maybe I should take a second look at that script. Maybe I can dust it off in time for this submission deadline coming up.

I Don't Do Mornings!

Maybe it was the fact that today is my best friend's birthday. (Happy 31st Adam! I'll get that porn in the mail to you soon.)

Maybe it's because, yesterday, Ted Ligety won the first US Gold in Alpine Skiing in a decade!(U S A! U S A!)

I don't know what it was but this morning, I had a huge grin on my face as I bent down in the street to pick up a steaming pile of doggie doo at 6:45AM. Who needs an alarm clock when there's a little dog who crawls up you on the bed and starts nuzzling you awake so you'll take her out for a walk?

The Dilemma

What to give that special someone for Valentine's Day -

Flowers?

Jewelry?

Romatic Dinner?

Or... perhaps the Perfect Gift... Tootsie!

Did you know?

According to my beverage and its knowledgeable Capple -

You Have To Play Ping-Pong For 12 Hours To Lose 1 Pound.

Damn, I'm never going to get skinny playing golf... I play golf... not miniature, either... Golf... What? Yeah, it's on the PS2... It's Still A Sport! I'm A Jock!

Hmmmm?

A scientific phenomenon? Pure Idiocy? You decide...

So our apartment is so hot that candy bars melt if left on the coffee table, so often times we store our Hersheys in the fridge. Tonight, craving a particular candy bar, I decided I'd like it a little soft soI popped it into the microwave for 5 seconds. After the first second blue bolts shot the length of the chocolate bar, just like the flux capacitor from the Back To The Future Trilogy (2 Posts In A Row) and the stench of ozone permeated the air. Almost made it impossible to eat the chocolate after I had peeled it out of the disintegrated wrapper.

Why did this happen?

Run For It, Marty!

"Oh My God! They found me! I don't know how but they found me."

By Order Of The Circuit Court Of Cook County, Illinois, You (ME) are Hereby Summoned To Appear For Jury Service...

CRAP!

Dusting Day!

Today I broke out 2 separate scripts, typed up cover letters, and plan on submitting them both within the next 24 hours. The first script is an untested, semi-original one-act inspired by a classic horror film. The second has been produced once before as part of a festival, locally, but I hope to send the new and improved version out and see if I get any bites. The pleasure of revisiting these scripts has been like a breath of fresh air.

Dear Oprah!

The book was given to me by someone who saw it on your show. I'd rather watch Maury.
I liked the book!
I still like the book.

Did I think that every single detail, and nugget of information was 100% accurate? No. Then again, I'm not a moron. I understand how writing works. I understand that authors/writers often exaggerate details, change names, or embellish an otherwise dull moment.

I am amazed however at your recent change of heart. You supported a writer. You came to his defense as a human being, and a recovering addict. Now you backpedal and go on the offensive to save a little face.

The funny thing is...

This author(I'll read the sequel) has sold millions of copies of his book thanks to you. There's no denying it. Sold millions more thanks to that website who 'exposed' him. Sold even millions more from your continuing expert 'journalistic' endeavors. That's a lot of books.

I'm actually writing a book myself, plus several scripts, and a few screen plays. I would like to schedule a lunch meeting, with you to possibly discuss how we could pull off our own little unimportant, yet extremely lucrative media circus, 'duped' celebrity type scenario.

Sincerely,

Me

P.S. Next time you give away free crap to your audience can I get a few tickets. I love free crap!

My friend George/Jorge!

That little, gay, Mexican Punk, knowing that I was in a terrible mood all night at work (I spent the whole shift trying to picture somewhere I'd rather be less and couldn't.) comes up to me at the end of the shift and points to a big smudge of dried Sangria that I had negelcted to clean and says, "That's how you clean you ass? That's disgusting!"

I nearly peed myself I started laughing so hard! It's not the first time he's said this to me but it was the best timed and most welcomed dirty ass comment I have received of late. Gracias Guey!

The Cab Ride That Changed It All!

Once upon a time there was a server/bartender who was having a bad Friday night at work. Most of his tables were annoying, some were bad tippers, a few were okay and then there was the whole 'gross out' situation at table 32. (Don't ask.) As our hero slogged through yet another night in the hospitality industry questioning his choices in life, his lack of direction, the strange stain on his shirt sleeve, and resisting the overwhelming urge to spit in someone's face he began to get a little, teesny, tiny bit aggravated. The thought of facing a double shift the following day nearly brought tears to our hero's rugged, yet sensitive eyes.

Fortunately the night ends, as they always do and will. Our server/bartender hailed a cab because he had missed the last train of the evening, and didn't feel like waiting in the snowstorm for a bus. Up pulled a taxi and in jumped our hero... into... the happiest cab ride ever!

Sydney E. Bennett, a black man with a cowboy hat and a smile, drives the best cab in the Windy City. An old newspaper article posted to the ceiling dubbed him the Christmas Cabbie. There was mistletoe, a disco ball, red garland, white garland and more garland, Xmas lights, neon lights, Valentine's Day decorations, and a candy tray hanging on the front wall. He blasted Parliament on the radio and flicked on his lights, alternating, to the music! They were just groovin' and bouncin' as they crept through slush-filled streets listening to George Clinton and his funky beats!

And the awful night at a mediocre job was nearly forgotten during the $8 journey!