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Monday, December 29, 2003
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oh shit
One day, a few weeks ago, when I was trying to scrape up material for my blog, I took a friend of mine's life and just slammed it. I mean, I pretty much reduced it to a broken nutshell. But I thought it was pretty funny and true, so I posted it on my blog.
We only talk about once a year, I thought. He'll probably never see it. Afterall, by the time he discovers my blog, his story will be buried deep within the archives among hundreds of other stories.
Then just a couple of days ago I got a Christmas card from this particular friend. He said he would be in town on such and such a date. Turned out it already was that such and such a date.
I called my friend the next morning and we got together for drinks that night. Before we went out I showed him my blog.
"Do you know about these things? They're pretty amazing. I put all my writing on it now."
I randomly clicked on one of the past dates to show him how the blog archives old material. The story about him instantly popped up.
"Oh, shit," I said.
11:20:28 PM
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the perils of excercise during very funny shows
I decided to do my work out while watching curb your enthusiasm, which is pretty much my favorite show right now. It was one of the funniest, where Larry David gets busted for stealing a fork and has to wear the "I STEAL FORKS FROM RESTAURANTS" sign.
Well, right as I was doing my pushups, something really funny happened in mid-push. Suddenly, I burst out laughing and my muscles went slack. I hit the floor and I got this shooting pain in my neck and shoulder.
Now my neck and shoulder is absolutely killing me. The pain mixed with my holiday drinking hangover makes me feel like some sort of busted up, miserable robot.
11:09:14 PM
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constructive criticism
When I majored in fiction at USF I thought it was finally time for my creative genius to shine. I figured, when I unlocked the gates to my imagination I was going to blow everyone away with my incredible stories and a revolutionary style of prose.
But as it turned out I couldn't really think of much to write about. I didn't really like the stories that I managed to grind out. They seemed kind of boring and stupid. No one in the class really told me otherwise either.
But what I did really excell at in creative writing was critiquing other people's stories. I didn't just give them contructive criticism, I ripped their stories to shreds. I would go to great lengths pointing out every single thing that was terrible about their story. I would crack on their plot, shoot down their characters, ridicule their writing style, and even belittle their title. I would do everything in my power to make them feel bad for ever trying to write such a stupid story. I would spend hours and hours writing these venemous, damning critiques and would feel great satisfaction I felt like I had completey obliterated the story.
Every now and then I would read a story that was actually pretty good.
In those cases, I would accuse them of plagiarism.
9:01:17 PM
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the naked cowboy
Rodney has discovered yet another cultural treasure of Manhattan: the naked cowboy. I guess this guy (pictured blurrily to the right) goes around in nothing but his Cowboy hat and fruit of the looms, despite the frigid winter temperatures of New York. He seranades the ladies and I guess takes pictures with them too. And I s'pose he doesn't mind getting a tip for his efforts.
I asked Rodney if he could get a clearer photo after I examined this one, but the naked cowboy had vanished into the night.
6:30:03 PM
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deepening blog sickness
I was sitting here at my computer with no real inspiration to write anything for my blog. Then the phone rang. Since that doesn't happen very often I ran to the other side of the house to get it. I picked up the receiver just before it went to voice mail.
"Hi, Da-Da!" said a sweet familiar voice.
It was my little girl calling from my parents place according to the caller ID.
"What's up sweetie?" I said.
"I wanted to know if you would come over here for dinner tonight?"
I hesitated a moment. I hadn't seen my girl since before Christmas. (She was out of town with her mom). I haven't given her a present yet. And here she was giving me a special opportunity to get together.
But a sick part of me hesitated and started thinking of an excuse as to why I couldn't come over. A sick part of me didn't want to leave my blog. Spilling my guts to an unseen audience. Counting hits. Checking comments. Then hitting friendster, myspace, match.com. Feeding a deepening cyber addiction.
But then the healthy side of my mind stepped up.
"Sure, sweetie. I'll be right over."
6:11:19 PM
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soup nazi
Another report from Rodney in Manhattan. Today he brushed with fame and greatness when he discovered the "Soup Nazi," made famous by the Seinfeld show. According to Rodney the Soup Nazi barks at you to get in line just like in the show. A bowl of soup was $11.
"But it didn't matter. It was good as shit," Rodney said.
5:34:00 PM
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© Copyright 2004 Mark Michaels.
Last update: 1/1/2004; 3:40:25 AM.
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