I just realized that

 nobody cares.

Excuse me.

    I am going to go scream in my car. :) 

A long time ago

     I used to be inspired. I used to be courageous. I used to give a fuck. What the hell happened? Why the hell am I in such mental turmoil that I cannot simply calm down. Everyone else is having a good time in life except for me and that is more than "not okay." That is terrible. Horrible. Dreadful. Disgusting.

Too many options.

 I am exasperated. So much so that it is taking a physical toll on my body. It freaks me out how often the phone ring-ring-rings and how much I pace-pace-pace, only to find the call is not for me. Why? Why am I not important enough to contact right now? I don't understand it. I hardly like it. I truly dislike not feeling important. If someone could contact me, just to say "hello?" I'd appreciate it. But right now, it's as if my life is suffering at the end of a rope. Burning to a crisp, with me along with it.

I don't know what I'm doing here either.

Expect more disappointment soon.

PLEASE EXCUSE ME PUBLIC

OLD OLD OLD POST I have been much to busy this past lifetime to even pay attention to my love of ignoring everything else to even remember about updating this ( much to the dismay of those who may care.) But There shall be new entries in no time, I assure you this, insane asylum! Nevertheless, I suppose I should update the few people who read this what I have been up to. I just did a Roast Battle at the World Famous Comedy Store! And although I lost, I truly enjoyed feeling the glow of a spotlight on me. Not to mention I said all my jokes right and three of the judges after the match congratulated me on my efforts. It just goes to show that no matter how much I want to be I'll never totally be the bad guy that I tend to see myself as. And the reason I even see myself as a bad guy in the first place is basically because I worry I'm not doing enough here! On the Internets! How silly is that, I ask of you? I assume nobody will be vigilant enough to discover me rambling about nothing here, just like my hero Cantinflas, but alas it all seems okay.

NOT GOING TO SADFISH ANYMORE

I've noticed that there's been a heaping amount of people who look to blogging to sadfish. As if it's a proper way to go ahead and write. It isn't. And I'll figure a way out of my own habits that I do myself. Believe you me.

Writing Prompt: I didn't know what was happening at the time…

A loud knock at the door. 6:00am. I didn't know what was happening at the time. So like an idiot, I sleepily answer "morning. What can I help you with?" Before being slammed to the wall by a triad of policemen whom absolutely hated my guts. For what reason, I am not sure. "You're under arrest for making a girl from the Phillpines uncomfy. This may be due to my ill-timed desire to masturbate. Not my proudest moment, in all actuality. Gonna be a long life, this will.

Writing Prompt: Write a review of a book you never wrote

"The Pulse In My Eye" is truly an eye-opening experience. The premise? A young man stuck in a Suburbia where though women maintain a positive opinion of him, there's something very vile about this individual. It isn't until the 3rd chapter (5 chapters of 100-count pages each) that it's evident as to why (SPOILER: the man is a sex addict.) Though easily labeled words of sexual persuasion are evident, the real danger happens to be how comfortable this man feels about his sexuality. Hyper-sexuality, really. To the Reader, the big giveaway of said behavior is likely an intentional act of malice. But in the author's opinion, I'm sure the actual reason his anti-hero commits some of the "crimes" He does is sadly because he knows not how to really control his libido. That may be his situation for a while. There's a good chance no one will really understand. That's okay. It's not meant to be heard.

Writing Prompt: Difference between earliest and latest death

I think the most major lineage of difference between the first death in my family & the last major death is the amount of time I remember talking to the folk affected by it. My mother's grandma died when I was 7 or 8. She was sad about it but I didn't ask very much about it.

Supposedly because I wasn't so caring. With my father's father dying however…

In that there was a larger quantity of pain resonating in me.

Writing Prompt: The Time You Were The Most Terrified…

The time I felt most terrified probably was when I broke up with my first love. The sour bitterness in me was unlike anything I've ever felt before. A rush of infuriated sorrow that really couldn't wait 'till tomorrow. Tears poured, mouths frowned and pain oozed out the very part of my body parts that held the liquid I would've used potentially to help conceive a baby. I missed her. I still do.

Writing Prompt: You have just swallowed your pride and done something you didn't want to do. Your friend wants to know why. The two of you are driving around an almost-full parking garage looking for a space for the friend's oversize pickup. Write the scene.

Me: (on phone) No No No that's not what I meant. I mean sure, I'll do it.
Rick: (driving) It's what he always says.
Me: (off) Rick!
Rick: Sorry. Here we are in the big parking lot. Let's see if it's big 'nuff for my low riding Durango.
Me: Ahm, no that was just my friend Rick, we're at the market buying food—
Rick:—Tools!
Me: Tools for his stint on Food Network.
Rick: It's Master Chef! (sotto) And it's also hella hard to park in the dark.
Me: Anyway, sorry and I'll do it… Love you?
Phone clicks off.
Me: (into phone) Hello?… Hello?
Rick: "And I love you too, Danny-Poo!"
Me: Ah, can it, man. You've no idea the grief I'm going through. I mean can you believe she's making me go to Church.
Rick: I can't believe you're still letting your Mom tell you what to do. (Honking) Hey you Fucking Ferrari, that was my spot! (Revs off deeper into the parking lot) Jackass.
Me: I mean it's just a concept I can't wrap my head around.
Rick: Which is why Virgin Mary will be more than happy to circle jerk you with the women uncovering your tomb! Look, just lie but tell her you did it. That way, you don't break her heart and you get to snag a street spot in the handicap—(Speeds but Crashes) Fuck! My ride's busted! Where am I going to put my food?
Me: Tools.
Rick: What-ever!

Writing Prompt: Tell a complete stranger about a beloved family tradition.

My mom doesn't work. And while we [her family] appreciate the time she endows to everybody from the kids to the far relatives to even our dog Frosty, it'd be even more gracious if she could make some moolah. But her luck is good enough. Every coupla weeks or so, my mom will get her paycheck from God in the form of dollars on the floor. At times, it won't be more than $5, at others it'll be something like $250. An incredible life my Mom leads doing nothing but being the inspiration for me as a future parent. Anyway, that's why you should gimme money.

Write a scene where the only spoken dialogue is "Uh-Huh," "Umm," "Urr," "Mm-mmm."

INT. CHAPEL - DAY

Friends, family and ALICE (30s, ecstatic, pretty) grin wide as she joins her hubby-to-be, CHUCK (late-30s, nonchalant.) Joining hands they face the DEACON (elderly but kind) as he opens his mouth to speak…

SLAM!

MATTHEW (early 30s, dashing, Alice's first love) GASPS loud as he breaks in the party butt-naked.

                     MATTHEW
                 (disapprovingly 
                    but spirited)
                Mm-mmm! Urrrr!

Alice turns and leaves Chuck for Matthew.

                     ALICE
                Umm, Uh-huh.

They leave.
                                             FADE OUT:
                     END.

                 

Writing Prompt: What a character holding a blue object is thinking right now

Boy, oh boy, I love boisonberry* ice cream! You know who else does? Jill! Wowee! I can't wait to give it to her to try and see if she will go to the dance with me! Then I can slip those nice electric socks I have to woo her into playing ping pong!

*Actually it's a red purplish colour. Sorry. (See below.)

Photo Credit: Hitchhiking to Heaven

Writing Prompt: The long-lost roommate

It was whilst I was in my mother's womb that I had my roommate. My long lost roommate, Ynnad. But within the rest in watching Johnny Test, listening to Jimmy Buffet and eating eggs without garlic salt, was just the biggest giveaway that he was a malevolent evil twin. I wonder where he is now?

Writing Prompt: Something you had that was stolen

Once I looked for my Luxembourgian family in Barcelona, I left my DS, teddy bear and books with my Dad, who, distracted by a bum asking for a smoke, did not notice my stolen backpack.

Writing Prompt: Tell a story that begins with a ransom note.

            
            
             
            
          
                
         
               
          

I had no idea my 5-Year Old cousin was elaborate. He makes it sound like us giving his side of the family our ageing Parrot is completely accidentally. Truth be told, I always loved Mr Falafels like a little brother gnawing at the Greek spot down the street across my house. In all truth and reality, it was what the doctor ordered to help calm Aunt Peggy in her terminal illness.

There are some grammatical mistakes here. My bad.