Ron Paul Opens for Michael Jackson; Michael Phelps: Mutant?

Whew, I bet that title is going to be confusing.
I'm not sure if there are any big enough Michael Jackson fans that read this who will even get this, but here we go anyway:



Click on it to actually see the comic.

That's right, I called it a comic. I make a web comic. I've been wanting to do it this way for a while now, and low and behold, it comes. Hopefully I will either have a partner in crime, or he will have his own web comic sometime soon. I actually do attempt to draw freehand, and I might upload those attempts here and there.

So I feel excited, because a lot of people(relatively) have left comments on my blog, and I'm leaving comments on their blogs, and it seems like a big social do-hickey is evolving in our click. I have a really good idea for a Novella, not a long short story, because I am stuck up. Anywho, look for that on your cyber-shelves come whenever I actually have time to finish it.

Cyber-shelves sounds so naughty.

So, Michael Phelps(Olympic Swimmer, Broke record for most Gold Medals by an individual athlete) is kind of insane, and I don't think he is really a human. To prove this I went fact hunting on Wikipedia, which is the source of all truth. Low and behold, I find what I am looking for:
Physique and lifestyle

Phelps has a body particularly suited to swimming. He has a long, thin torso with arms which span 6 feet 7 inches (200 cm), disproportionate with his height of 6 feet 4 inches (190 cm). However, he has relatively short legs which reduce resistance through the water, but despite this he has size 14 feet (49.5 Europe) and double-jointed ankles. He can extend his ankle beyond the point of a ballet dancer which enables him to whip his feet for maximum thrust.

It goes on to say:
According to an article in The Guardian, Phelps eats around 12,000 calories each day, or about 6 times more than the average adult male.^[14] Leslie Bonci, the University of Pittsburgh Director of Sports Nutrition, says that eating that many calories a day is "almost impossible".^[15] She estimates that his intake is closer to 6,000 calories per day.

WHAT THE HELL? I don't care if he does eat 6,000 calories, where does he put it? What does he eat? Solid Lard?

I don't know if anyone has hummingbird feeders, but you should buy one, they are fun to watch.

The important part always ends up at the end, odd don't you think?

I suppose that asking for people to type in a manner that makes semi-sense is way toooooooooooooooooooooooooo much to expect from the internet.

Someone told me that "I am not sure dieing and working the night shift is the best compairicent....There just two really differnt type of thing." Oh well, I am being a snob.
Anywho, I haven't written anything fictional in a few days, mostly because the job search continues. I have, however, built a giant tower with the books that I can't fit on my shelf. It makes me happy and also scares the hell out of me. Its like having an enormous, heavy Jenga tower hovering behind you. It already fell down and made the pain on my fingers.




If anyone was wanting a good listen, you should check out the most recent offering from Sons and Daughters. This Gift has an amazing feeling to it, and if you like Girl in a Coma or the Strokes earlier stuff, you probably will enjoy this severely. The first track Gift Complex throws you head first into the mood of the album, and track 4, Rebel with the Ghost brings a feeling of life not seen felt since Ted Leo graced me with Me and Mia.

So go do something fruitful, go make someone smile, go dance and prance, go scream, stop somewhere odd on the street. Summer is almost over my friends, and what do you have to show for it? I would like to hear any awesome stories you may have. I would love to write something interesting about it. We don't have any other responsibilities in life more important than loving and showing others you can love, so lets just get that done with, and make the world a little better place in which to live.

If this were Mac and Cheese it would be called A "Rough Kraft."

But it is not Macaroni is it? Anywho, a more completed version of The Late Shift .
Voila!

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The Late Shift

I don't even remember wanting this job. It is a strange affliction, realizing all at once that you hate everything you do. It hits you in a sort of crippling, enfeebling manner. When you die, you don't die all at once. Your heart shuts down, and after that all of your necessary functions begin to end. Some Doctors actually theorize that the Brain is one of the last vital functions in your body to go. After all of this, many of your useless functions continue to act, your nails, your hair, you get the idea.
This basic idea can be applied to the late shift. You get here, and have every ounce of you body prepared to be the best associate you can be. You want to be the talk of the store, you want your manager to come hug you and say " Oh, Dear, We had a 2000 dollar night thanks to you!" You want to see your co-workers and partners in death acting like your underlings, coming to you for every answer. You want to be something original, the fresh face of this corporation. You look at the entrance and dare a snarky customer to invade your turf. Yet again, you are the shining Knight of the nighttime food service industry. You gladly fill orders, you smile, you take on extra duties.
Then it happens, you make your first little mistake. You forget to hand them a cup, something simple that crushes your streak. Your heart goes into palpitations. You smile, shrug it off, and attempt to continue. Carefully, meticulously, browsing over everything you do with a simple yet overdone second glance. You get nervous, and fault yet again. Your heart shuts down.
Now you are struggling to do anything correctly, and everyone around you is assuring you that you've done absolutely correct. None of these attempts amounts to anything, as it is much too late to revive your stopped heart. You continue to work frantically, caring only to finish without another accident. You dread yourself and everything you do, every ounce of your body telling you to quit, with only your brain pushing your useless anatomy forward. The brain has its limits, of course, and soon your muscle system falls apart, and you have a hard time even cleaning up your own mess. What’s worse, you can't even begin to clean up the mess of others. Your brain is strained, and you begin to look at every customer as hostile. "Oh, of course you are ordering that..." or "I'm not even taking this customer, she's yours..."
Your brain has a revolution, demanding sleep, demanding the end of this hell. Your body has no defense, and as it comes time to close the shop, you can do little besides drag your body around and crudely wipe, mop, and sweep the filth that has accumulated over the day. Tasks, which seemed so simple to perform only hours ago, have become quotidian and mundane. You finish, you drag yourself to your car, cursing. You strain what little energy your legs have left, and drive home. Climbing in bed, you promise yourself you will quit tomorrow. You hurt so much you can no longer sleep naturally, and take pills to finally shut down your brain. During this time your brain is still having a revolution, screaming at you to never do this again, to become a human again. It has its limits, and it quits, shuts down, and you sleep.
You wake up refreshed, awoken from happy dreams of your childhood. You feel happy to see on your planner that you work today. Because today is the day that you are the best employee you can be, and your brain agrees.

Just to give you a clue.

This is what my dream looked like.

Experiences and Dreams. Dreamsperiences?

I slept in til 12 today by complete accident, and I hate myself for it. However, that dream cycle afforded me some rather odd visions. I had a dream where the creators of my favorite web comics came and chilled out with me. We talked about writing and music, we talked about geek stuff, and ninjas, and the Punk Scene. Yes, I was visited by Jeph Jaques of QC, who was portrayed by Marten of his comic. I was visited by Randall Munroe of XKCD, who was portrayed by Black Hat Man. I was visited by Chris Hastings of Dr. Mcninja, who was of course portrayed by Dr. Mcninja, and Mitch Clem, one of my Idols, and he was portrayed by his own cartoon version from My Stupid Life. It was probably like some of the parlor conversations of the Renaissance, becuase I had four geniuses in my house conversing about the issues of the day. It was great, and I think I am going to write a story about it, so expect that in the near future.

I've found a new forum for writers, and while I acknowledge that it seems pretty lame to be looking for critique on the net, I also acknowledge that we are in the future now. So if anyone frequents writingforums.org and sees some of my stories, its ok, I put it there.
But thanks for caring.

Anywho, my typical weekday routine of looking for a job began again today, and I still haven't obtained so much as a interview for one. I started writing a story about my old job, and it seems pretty good, so expect it within the month, it will be short-ish, so I might post it a bit at time over the next couple of weeks. I'll show you what I have so far today.

____________________________________
The Late Shift

I don't even remember wanting this job. It is a strange affliction, realizing all at once that you hate everything you do. It hits you in a sort of crippling, enfeebling manner. When you die, you don't die all at once. Your heart shuts down, and after that all of your neccesary functions begin to end. Some Doctors actually theorize that the Brain is one of the last vital functions in your body to go. After all of this, many of your useless functions continue to act, your nails, your hair, you get the idea.
This basic idea can be applied to the late shift. You get here, and have every ounce of you body prepared to be the best associate you can be. You want to be the talk of the store, you want your manager to come hug you and say " Oh, Dear, We had a 2000 dollar night thanks to you!" You want to see your co-workers and partners in death acting like your underlings, coming to you for every answer. You want to be something orignal, the fresh face of this corporation. You look at the entrance and dare a snarky customer to invade your turf. Yet again, you are the shining Knight of the nighttime food service industry. You gladly fill orders, you smile, you take on extra duties.

So far, If you have any comments, I'll gladly take them.

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Otherwise, not much has been happening. I am hopefully going to get to go to a Mogwai concert soon, so that should be neat. I have a few ideas for what is going to be in my short story from your comments and emails, thanks to mike and bridgette. I'll explain these ideas later, but If I could just get one more I could start.

Summertime, Oh Summertime.

With summertime coming somewhat to a close, and the raging impossibility of my acquiring a meaningful job coming true, I turn once again to my blog. I don't know if anyone ever comes on this page, but if they do, you should email me. It's ihatebillygates@gmail.com, I think it would be neat to hear from a random person.

But basically, I wanted to have a challenge, So I decided I might try and do some creative writing. It is about the only thing I have the means to do right now, and luckily, I am actually fairly talented about it. No one really wants to read random creativity, though. What I want from you who float around in the cybernets is to email(see above) or, which is probably easier for you, comment with some random ideas, and I'll entangle three or four of them and write a little piece about them. I like writing humorous things, but if you note how you want your ideas used I can most certainly follow your command.

Also, I love the news and current events, so I might be posting twists on things I find on CNN and the like, and if you enjoy any of them, I could do a larger piece. Generally the overtone is going to be humor, but I wouldn't mind doing some serious journalism. This will mostly be geared to my local 804 audience, but I might do national news, too. Also, if something that happens to be unnatural is happening in some random neck of the woods, I wouldn't mind seeing it. I enjoy things that are out of the quotidian routine I've fallen into. I noticed the other day that I do the same thing everyday, and it is hard to feel human when everything you do turns you into a robot. I'm not saying just boredom, I really feel like a robot. I actually pissed a bolt the other day, after which I attempted to upgrade my firmware. I preceded to discover I don't run on any major cell networks, and went back to bed.

So if any of you snarky, bored internet fiends get around to coming on my corner of the blags, I beg you to take a second and say something silly.

Ok, ranting silly update aside, I want to tell you about an amazing band called KI: Theory I saw opening for Rodrigo Y Gabriela last friday. The band is actually just one guy, and you may have heard some of his remixes. He is an extremely talented and cool guy, one who definitely breaks the typical indie music barrier. He really seems to have a passion for what he does, and I would really aprreciate it if you checked out his myspace and listened to some of his amazing compositions. He makes music that can be fun for just chilling, and music that can be great for dancing. Also, I am in a picture in his blog, which makes me happy. So, if you feel like being happy, go to His Myspace.

So, happy adventures, and remember to inflate your tires to the correct PSI, but don't tell the media about it, otherwise they might have a circus and we would all die. Isn't so unreasonable of Barack Obama to pass on knowledge? I hate that.

Crispen