Category: Uncategorized

For years, I have been terrified to build a computer, and skittish at best at upgrading one. Despite my knowledge of software and operating systems, I really knew very little about hardware, and even more about the new technology that was coming out. I grew up with old computers, 486, Pentium, Pentium II, etc. The idea of a “two core” processor was foreign to me. My last computer, the one I bought aaalll the way back in 2004, had a single core processor, and back then no one called them “single core” processors, it was just Intel or AMD. Back in that time, I purchased a 256MB thumbdrive for $45. Now that just seems ridiculous. But it also seems ridiculous when I think about my first time dealing with computers, playing Space Invaders on a sepia-toned monochromatic 386 computer with two 5.25 floppy drives and Windows 3.1. (more…)

I’m at a mall, or a mall-looking place, with a large group of people, like thousands of people. Simon Pegg is with me. We’re best buds. And Vanilla Ice is there, too. We’re all sitting down, and there’s the mall radio playing music. Nobody is paying attention to Vanilla Ice or anyone else, really.

Then “Ice Ice Baby” comes on the radio, and suddenly everyone seems to notice Mr. Ice. He stands and does this twist as he stands, showing the back of his red jacket, which reads, “Vanilla Ice” in white letters. He starts to rap (lip sync?) and moves around the crowd, and everyone is putting their hands all over him.

Then he comes to us, and me and a small group put our hands on his chest and move them up somewhat sensually to his shoulders. He leans back during this, and I, for whatever reason, put my hands up and on his face. He’s all sweaty, and then he’s gone, and I, jokingly, gesture like I’m licking his sweat off of my palms, but somehow I misjudge the distance of my hand to my face, or it gets bumped, or something, and I actually lick some of the sweat off. It’s very salty and I feel grossed out.

And then I woke up.

I was cast in the Ensemble for a production of Romeo & Juliet by a theatre company. This show goes up in August, I was cast a month or two ago, and I have since dropped out because I want to use up my vacation time before I go back to school. Plus it’s summer and summer demands vacations.

This theatre company has a Tumblr account, and I am following it, and every day or so now since the production has begun, they post pictures and videos or the rehearsal process.

Now, I love theatre, and I have run away from it for about two years now because of various reasons, mostly concerning a rabid insecurity attack that left me unable to conjure up the confidence to do anything besides eat cheeseburgers (and even then, I felt awkward going up to the person at the counter, who quite clearly knew who I was by this point, as I had been coming in on a regular basis), but who in Christ’s name wants to watch a video of a rehearsal?! Is this where theatre is headed? People getting “behind the scenes” looks of works in progress?

I’ve been in a lot of shows, and nothing is more boring and annoying than rehearsals. Sure, a lot of great stuff comes out of it, but it’s not audience stuff. It’s character progression, finding subtext, and, you know, boring shit like blocking and memorizing lines, learning to speak clearly and loudly. Who cares about that stuff besides an actor and a director?

I have no beef with this theatre company. They’re young and professional and really great people, and I wish that my schedule could’ve allowed for me to take a week off in August while still being in the show, but it just bugs me, this multimedia experience for theatre. I really don’t think people want to see rehearsals. I think they like watching DVD behind the scenes quick shots of people setting up cameras and shit because it’s quick, and there’s technology involved. But a rehearsal? Nobody cares. It’s not like the viewer is going to get anything out of a stumble through. Nobody in their clear mind should be subjected to watching a stumble through. They’re painful for everyone involved.

Anyway. Just wanted to say that.

Okay, I’ve been wanting to write about this game for some time, because I played it, in like fifteen minute increments, for the month of May and I finally finished it and I wanted to talk about it. Because it’s scary as all hell, but also, it’s not?

LOOK PEOPLE THERE ARE SPOILERS, OKAY?

Maybe you’re one of those people who are never going to play this game ever. If that’s so, please, continue reading.

(more…)

Look, domesticated cats have been around for thousands of years. You can trace them back to the Egyptians. So I’m just going to blame the Egyptians for giving us cats. Because without cats, I would get a decent night’s sleep.

This morning, my girlfriend discovered why she was having such difficulty sleeping. “I think it’s the dogs across the street,” she said. “They’re always barking, and since we have the window open, I can hear them and they wake me up.”

I would say the same thing, but I’m too busy being woken up by my damn cat every two hours. She jumps beside me on the bed and meows me awake, and if I don’t respond to her, she walks on my chest and stands there like she own the goddamn place.

See, she’s kind of spoiled. She likes to sleep under the covers. Typically, when Kait and I sleep, she goes under, starts pawing the fitted bedsheet like she’s making a nest, and then flops onto her side or even her back, waiting for us to pet her and tell her she’s cute. She knows this. She KNOWS. And then we pet her and go to sleep. This is when she escapes from under the covers and starts running around, chasing things, and generally fucking around. Why she chooses this time, I have no idea. But eventually she wears herself out and she comes back up to sleep. Now, she sleeps OVER the covers. Don’t ask me why.
She also likes to sleep nestled between either my girlfriend or my legs. Like, if I’m laying on my back and my legs are parted, even a little bit, she nestles up in between them, probably because it’s warm and comforting. But for me it means I cannot change my position in the bed. Ever, unless she moves or I move her, and if I move her I feel like a dick.

Then, before it’s even light outside, she jumps on the bed and meows in my face. How do I placate you, Jowers? What do I do? Do you want food? Attention? What magical incantation shouldst I speak to allow thee the peace thou requirest?

Animal behaviorists say you can’t give the animals the attention they seek in situations like this because then they’ll always seek it. But how can you not give attention to a cat that is meowing in your face? Ignore it? What if I ignore it and one morning she meows and I don’t hear because I’ve ignored it so much that I sleep through it, only this time she’s meowing because the goddamn house is on fire, and she’s warning me but nothing will wake me from my sweet reverie, and I die in a house fire?!

I guess I’ll just be sleepy all day, then. :

SCENE: A meeting room at Frito Lay headquarters

Frito Lay Exec 1: Alright, thank you all for coming. We’ve got a brand new product we want to sell, called Munchies. We think it’s going to be really amazing. See, the object of Munchies is to have three or four different snacks from the Frito Lay brand inside one bag! (more…)

A PLAY IN FIVE ACTS

SCENE: FACEBOOK

TIME: TEN YEARS AFTER GRADUATION

ACT ONE
Classmates: Hey Josh?
Josh: Yes?
Classmates: When is our ten year reunion?
Josh: OH SHIT.

ACT TWO
Classmate #1: Well, no one has planned anything, so I am making a Facebook group! That will solve everything!
Classmates: Hooray!
Classmate #1: And then I will run away, never to be seen in the group again.
Classmates: Hooray!

ACT THREE

[two days later; crickets chirping]

Josh: Are we going to actually plan anything?
Classmates: Eh, I dunno. These things come together eventually.

ACT FOUR
Josh: Alright, goddammit, I’ll plan the entire thing! Here, I’ve made a poll for if you’re going to attend and a poll for which weekend would work best for you. PLEASE USE THESE, otherwise we have no idea who will come and subsequently won’t be able to plan anything fun!
Classmates: Hooray! Thanks Josh!

[lights lower to creepy levels]

Classmate #2: But beware, for most of the people in this group won’t respond at all, and others will request dates that are simply ridiculous! Like July! July is too soon!
Classmate #3: And I will volunteer my help but then not actually do anything!
Classmate #2: And I will be very supportive but also not do anything!
Classmate #3: I will get your hopes up for no reason!
Classmate #2: I will tell you when I can make it, rather than use the polls!
Classmate #3: I will invite people to the group who didn’t actually graduate in 2001!
Classmate #2: IT’S JUST LIKE HIGH SCHOOL ALL OVER AGAIN!
Classmate #3: ALL OVER AGAIN
Classmates: DO EVERYTHING FOR US, JOSH! DO EVERYTHING FOR US!
Josh: AIIIEEEEEEEEE!

ACT FIVE

 [josh wakes up from a terrible nightmare]

Josh: Honey! Honey wake up, I just had the most horrible dream. I was trying to organize my ten year high school reunion, and it was just awful! Nobody would give me any clear information on what they wanted, but they all just wanted a reunion to pop up out of nowhere! It was so awful.

[GIRLFRIEND turns over to reveal she is the NAMPA HIGH SCHOOL BULLDOG MASCOT]

Mascot: Just go back to sleep, darling.
Josh: AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!

THE END

So I’m riding my bike down the sidestreets of my neighborhood shortly before I arrive home. As I take a left turn onto a particularly crappy street, I see a family before me: a husband up ahead, walking the dog, and a woman on the right with a stroller, and a kid, probably four or five, holding one of those Chuck It ball throwers. They’re walking in the street, mind you. I have no issues with this; people walk down empty streets all the time. But the kid is on the left and she’s on the right, so I have no choice but to ride in between them. Please note at this point that the woman has made eye contact with me once already. I made the left turn, saw them, her Spideysense picked up and she turned back and noticed me. She has seen me. Repeat: she has seen me. (more…)

edit: how many times can i spell exercise wrong? answer: all of them

from 750words.com

So the idea is to wake up and do some small exercises, mostly pushups and crunches, then shower, then eat breakfast and peruse the internets, and then go to work. At work, I will take walks on my two breaks, and then eat a sensible lunch, and hopefully have time for a third walk. I will ride my bike to work when weather permits, and walk home from work if weather permits and I haven’t ridden my bike. Ride has some great conjugates, doesn’t it? Ride, present tense. Rode, past tense. Ridden, past tense. Ridden is an excellent word. Rode means “I rode my bike to work,” but it can also be “having ridden my bike to work,” which means the same thing? Yes? Or maybe “ridden” means “riding up to a certain point,” whereas “rode” means “a time in the past when my bike was ridden.” I forgot about “riding,” too. Oh, gerunds. You are so magical. Will ride is the future tense. I wish we had better conjugates for future tense. Everything is “will” this and “will” that. I want a future tense conjugate! Instead of “will ride,” I want “rede,” or “roden” or something. “I rede my bike in a few minutes.” Doesn’t that just look so goddamn confusing? But it could be a thing! “Jeremy roden my bike tomorrow.” Augh it makes my brain hurt but I love it so much. I want this to be a thing. Can we make it a thing? Who do I have to talk to about the English language? Walt Whitman? Isn’t he dead? Can we raise Walt Whitman from the grave so I can ask him about this? Surely that technology exists at this point. I mean it exists in fantasy worlds, and that’s just silly. Someone invent a defibrillator that jolts skeletons into life. Don’t ask questions, just do it. You may say it’s necromancy and to that I say, I have some things to talk to Walt Whitman about, so get out of my way, and get that goddamn skeleton defibrillator up and working!

SCENE
Foti’s Greek Deli, approx 11:00am

CHARACTERS
Jill, Foti’s wife and cashier, the dearest, sweetest lady you will ever meet
Vapid Girl #1 [VG1]
Vapid Girl #2 [VG2]

[Jill returns from the credit card machine.]

Jill [to VG1]: Do you have another card? This one was declined.
VG1: Wh … what? That’s crazy.
Jill: I’m sorry.
VG2: It’s cool, I’ll buy my own food.
VG1: But, whuh … Can you run it again?
Jill: I don’t…
VG2: Don’t worry, I’ll buy my own food.

[VG1 stares at VG2 for a moment.]

VG1 [to Jill]: Can you run it again?
Jill [reluctantly taking the card]: We get charged every time.
VG1: What?
VG2: I’ll just buy my own food, okay?
Jill [swipes the card]: We get charged every time we swipe the card.

[VG1 obviously either didn’t hear Jill, or is ignoring her. A beat as everyone waits.]

Jill: Still declined.
VG2: It’s okay, I totally got this.
VG1: Are you sure?
VG2: Yeah, don’t worry, I got this.
VG1 [to Jill]: Did you run it as debit? Did you run it as debit?
Jill: It doesn’t—
VG2: I got it!

[Jill swipes VG2’s card. It works fine.]

VG1: Oh my god, I’m so embarrassed.
VG2 [abnormally loud]: DON’T YOU EVEN WORRY, GIRL, I GOT IT!
VG1: It’s just that my brother just gave me money—
VG2: DO NOT EVEN WORRY, GIRL!
Jill: You can sit wherever you’d like.

[They walk off]

The End

[The moral of the story is: DON’T RUN THE FUCKING CARD TWICE YOU BRAINLESS NUTSO! YOU’RE COSTING A MOM AND POP SHOP MONEY!]