The reason facebook sucks is not the arbitrary friends you collect because Myspace and all other sites like it have that issue.
It's not it's design, which was at first basic and self-restrained. Has become malleable and complex (not quite as user friendly as they probably hoped it would be though). Not exactly a bad thing really.
I hate you facebook for making me think I can talk to my friends on the fly. I expect responsiveness akin to a chatroom or forum. I end up checking up on all updates and just sitting there waiting for responses. My wait made as well come in the form of sleep because only a handful will respond within a minute or 30 minute frame. And then I have to find where the update is. Photos? Groups? Some new game of vampires or Harry Potter that I don't have the patience to play? (The notifications have cleared this discrepancy up as of late)
I have the blog that I update so rarely, I have the twitter to keep up with the manic thoughts of Warren Ellis, and I have 456 unread e-mail messages. Keeping my facebook is more of a burden than ever.
I want to be a solid writer and facebook does not help in that respect as much as the rest do.
I did the 40th annual(? I don't know. it could be bi-annual) Dove Awards (think contemporary gospel awards show) for the Gospel Channel at the Grand Ole Opry. That was sweeeeeet and X-TREME.
I got so much sleep and naptime done last month and this month that I think I od'ed on unconsciousness. I got so tired of myself wasting away and not contributing to society that this Production Assistant job came at just the right time.
Now I talked the executive producer into working on something else for him.
It has to do with superheroes, so really? I'm as happy as a little gurrrl!
I cannot believe I get to work with a superhero character. I'm SO excited to try out all the story plots I've seen work in so many comics and film and tv and OMIGOD I'VE GOT TO DO AN EPISODE ABOUT _______!!! THAT'S GONNA BE FUCKING BOSS.
This was kinda thrown at me. And it is expected that my script will be cut to shreds by production so, that being the case, what do I have to lose by writing whatever story I like?
Oh and the show is... nevermind I'll write some dialouge and srping it on ya that way.
WORD OF THE DAY:
Titbitchfuckshit
Showing posts with label Whatthehuh?. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Whatthehuh?. Show all posts
Monday, April 27, 2009
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
A CALL TO ARMS: YOU HAVE SOMETHING OF MINE JANAUL
A former friend of mine has stolen property of mine and has had it for two quarters.
Janaul Blount, the friend in question, has his claims and disputes but this is what happened:
I had a Dreamcast (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dreamcast). I carried it with me wherever I went. Causing many a turmoil but never worse for the wear. I snuck it into my college dorm hiding it from my anti-video game parents ("Is that a Game-Boy!?" "Mom, it's a cellphone" "How come there's games on it?" "Phones can have games on them." "No they can't. They are meant to call people ONLY" "SIGH...").
I would play it, not in my room as it was prestinely devoid of a tv, in a friends room (we'll call this friend: Jamil). So much so, that I ended up asking him to keep it there instead of lugging it with me whenever someone got the itch to play "Marvel Vs. Capcom 2". What surprised me, and should have been a red flag, is that he said he would allow it in his room but promised that he held to responsibilty if anything happened to my system. I balked at the idea of him allowing something to happened without telling me and proceeded to not have it with me in my room.
Next quarter, I come straight to Jamil and ask for my Dreamcast back from his room.
He resoundly says he disavows knowledge of ever keeping the Dreamcast in his room (Def Con 2). He allows me to search the room feeling sorry for me and keeps telling me that my proposition never was... propositioned.
I freak for a week.
No leads.
No witnesses.
Nothing.
(I realized I'm putting a lot of theatre into this But it means a lot to me to get this back in my hands. I won't be able to be transported back to when I was 15 by plugging in my Dreamcast if I have no Dreamcast. There is a strong feeling there and I would rather lose it through the thought of me doing something wrong to my system then someone else keeping it and thinking it's theirs when it isn't.)
Janaul has my SCAD card. I'm a big pushover when it comes to wanting to help people with their money problems and Janaul convinces me to use my card to pay for his laundry that he can't seem to afford card-wise.
It begins to get late and he isn't answering his phone or appearing where he said he would to give me back my SCAD card (I get it back but this leads to the Dreamcast so hang on). I ask around and I find his begotten room. He's in there. Why won't he answer my calls then? I see people I know in his room (there not in SCAD anymore so I don't feel the need to include their pseudonyms) so I call one of them and look in at the reaction. He/She ignores my call!
I start to become very paranoid then I see something that looks like Son Son fighting something that looks like Cyclops on Janaul's television screen. "Marvel vs Capcom 2". He has it. Why wouldn't he let me in on it if he had a console that played the game I used to play? After all, he and I were friends who mostly battled each other in fighting games such as MvC2 on my Dreamcast. What if the reason they won't pick up the call so that I can come and get my SCAD card is so that I don't come into the room? And what if they don't want me in the room playing MvC2 because they are doing it on a Dreamcast they stole from me?
I knock.
I rudely ask to come in and see what they're doing and accuse Janaul of theivery (Not the move I would have done in hindsight)
Janaul pushes the door close on my footgiving me my card back while he does.
I threaten to call security if I'm not let in, I scream.
"Go ahead" is Janaul's retort. (This puzzled me. Wouldn't he just want to avoid getting kicked off campus in favor of swallowing his pride?)
Long story short; I didn't stay by the door to keep watch of who comes out. Security comes along with two RAs and search his room and find two Dreamcast controllers that are not mine but his. I have a meltdown, having felt as if I destroyed a friendship and wondered why Janaul just didn't let me in and prove me wrong instead of going through a two and a half hour ordeal.
This happened last quarter.
I trust what I saw. That was my game in that room. Janaul kept me out so I wouldn't catch him red handed. There were Dreamcast controllers in his room for what oher purpose? Why would I keep this up if this all didn't happen?
I would like to have a meeting with Janaul and a RD moderator before Friday.
He thinks it's his I hear. Well, if he can hold up a decent argument without closing a door I may think differently. For now, the man is a cheat, a liar, and a manipulator.
Janaul Blount, the friend in question, has his claims and disputes but this is what happened:
I had a Dreamcast (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dreamcast). I carried it with me wherever I went. Causing many a turmoil but never worse for the wear. I snuck it into my college dorm hiding it from my anti-video game parents ("Is that a Game-Boy!?" "Mom, it's a cellphone" "How come there's games on it?" "Phones can have games on them." "No they can't. They are meant to call people ONLY" "SIGH...").
I would play it, not in my room as it was prestinely devoid of a tv, in a friends room (we'll call this friend: Jamil). So much so, that I ended up asking him to keep it there instead of lugging it with me whenever someone got the itch to play "Marvel Vs. Capcom 2". What surprised me, and should have been a red flag, is that he said he would allow it in his room but promised that he held to responsibilty if anything happened to my system. I balked at the idea of him allowing something to happened without telling me and proceeded to not have it with me in my room.
Next quarter, I come straight to Jamil and ask for my Dreamcast back from his room.
He resoundly says he disavows knowledge of ever keeping the Dreamcast in his room (Def Con 2). He allows me to search the room feeling sorry for me and keeps telling me that my proposition never was... propositioned.
I freak for a week.
No leads.
No witnesses.
Nothing.
(I realized I'm putting a lot of theatre into this But it means a lot to me to get this back in my hands. I won't be able to be transported back to when I was 15 by plugging in my Dreamcast if I have no Dreamcast. There is a strong feeling there and I would rather lose it through the thought of me doing something wrong to my system then someone else keeping it and thinking it's theirs when it isn't.)
Janaul has my SCAD card. I'm a big pushover when it comes to wanting to help people with their money problems and Janaul convinces me to use my card to pay for his laundry that he can't seem to afford card-wise.
It begins to get late and he isn't answering his phone or appearing where he said he would to give me back my SCAD card (I get it back but this leads to the Dreamcast so hang on). I ask around and I find his begotten room. He's in there. Why won't he answer my calls then? I see people I know in his room (there not in SCAD anymore so I don't feel the need to include their pseudonyms) so I call one of them and look in at the reaction. He/She ignores my call!
I start to become very paranoid then I see something that looks like Son Son fighting something that looks like Cyclops on Janaul's television screen. "Marvel vs Capcom 2". He has it. Why wouldn't he let me in on it if he had a console that played the game I used to play? After all, he and I were friends who mostly battled each other in fighting games such as MvC2 on my Dreamcast. What if the reason they won't pick up the call so that I can come and get my SCAD card is so that I don't come into the room? And what if they don't want me in the room playing MvC2 because they are doing it on a Dreamcast they stole from me?
I knock.
I rudely ask to come in and see what they're doing and accuse Janaul of theivery (Not the move I would have done in hindsight)
Janaul pushes the door close on my footgiving me my card back while he does.
I threaten to call security if I'm not let in, I scream.
"Go ahead" is Janaul's retort. (This puzzled me. Wouldn't he just want to avoid getting kicked off campus in favor of swallowing his pride?)
Long story short; I didn't stay by the door to keep watch of who comes out. Security comes along with two RAs and search his room and find two Dreamcast controllers that are not mine but his. I have a meltdown, having felt as if I destroyed a friendship and wondered why Janaul just didn't let me in and prove me wrong instead of going through a two and a half hour ordeal.
This happened last quarter.
I trust what I saw. That was my game in that room. Janaul kept me out so I wouldn't catch him red handed. There were Dreamcast controllers in his room for what oher purpose? Why would I keep this up if this all didn't happen?
I would like to have a meeting with Janaul and a RD moderator before Friday.
He thinks it's his I hear. Well, if he can hold up a decent argument without closing a door I may think differently. For now, the man is a cheat, a liar, and a manipulator.
Friday, June 6, 2008
And down this road, you will face your ultimate fear...living with your parents when your 30.
Today is a brand new day for me.
I'm taking the reins.
I'm bringing up baby.
I'm takin' em to Missouri.
I'm knowin' when to holddem and when to folddem, when to walk away and when to run.
It's fantastic!
I am so doing stand-up as a job this summer (along with many part-time ones, OH that reminds me to check my e-mail for UPS's response to my e-mail).
I am doing something of magnitude everyday.
I am calling the people that need to be called every week.
Starting today, no more lazy about watching shit on the internet (I've done enough to last me a lifetime back in college).
I need to write and read and work every single day.
I have a year to get myself awesome and show my 'rents that Andre Lemont Churchwell Jr. is the man that they though he was going to be when he was sired those many moons ago.
I got movie ideas that need tinkering.
Bits that need it too.
My room need s to be the cleanest of the house.
And my comic books....ooh boy...my comic books will be studied and pondered about till I can create an original idea for one myself.
They will be no stopping me.
Except you.
Not you, the happy reader.
YOU.
INTERNET.
I must salvage what I can of my will and strength and keep these brandwith demons at bay long enough to...catch up on the news of a Runaway's movie?...Wah-WHAT! And Brian K. Vaughn is writing the scrip-NOW THAT'S WHAT I'M TALKIN' BOUT WILLIS!
....er...
Good 'morrow.
Sunday, May 11, 2008
And now, if a may a silly poem
Am I useful?
I don't mean to askthe question: Can I do something useful?
No.
I mean can I do something that utilizes human ingenuity and practicality as well as be interesting?
Could I perhaps drive a fork lift?
Not a small fork lift.
A huge one.
With skill of a man twice my age and a deft field of vision not applied to my other task.
Can I sing a duet?
With any old dude or gal.
And make the whole thing better with and without rehearsal,
through sheer style and choice of improvisational movement.
With if...I knew gun fu?
Something silly that I would not ordinarily consider but have seen in a great many media.
I could have exceptional taste soup that gets people ready for brain-bending sex.
I just never could bring myself to offer up the advice to a trustworthy human being.
If only I had years in a hole,
to try and fail,
to surprise myself,
to live differently thereon out.
Perhaps I make bold statements the best of all others.
No.
That sound like something Jesus told himself.
I'm not Jesus.
I am Junior.
I don't mean to askthe question: Can I do something useful?
No.
I mean can I do something that utilizes human ingenuity and practicality as well as be interesting?
Could I perhaps drive a fork lift?
Not a small fork lift.
A huge one.
With skill of a man twice my age and a deft field of vision not applied to my other task.
Can I sing a duet?
With any old dude or gal.
And make the whole thing better with and without rehearsal,
through sheer style and choice of improvisational movement.
With if...I knew gun fu?
Something silly that I would not ordinarily consider but have seen in a great many media.
I could have exceptional taste soup that gets people ready for brain-bending sex.
I just never could bring myself to offer up the advice to a trustworthy human being.
If only I had years in a hole,
to try and fail,
to surprise myself,
to live differently thereon out.
Perhaps I make bold statements the best of all others.
No.
That sound like something Jesus told himself.
I'm not Jesus.
I am Junior.
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