Category — Other Miscellaneous Musings

On January 17th 2011, a bored rich guy named Lord Gulrich Standish III led an expedition of 3 other rich guys and a mentally unstable poor guy to the unexplored region of Ghostopolis–a ghost community localized entirely inside of an abandoned amusement park.  While shitting his money and time away, Lord Gulrich Standish III recorded over 400 pages of previously unknown facts about ghosts.  His photos can bee scene here.  The following are 10 of those facts and a brief journal entry from Lord Gulrich Standish III:

1) Ghosts dance until the sun comes up…or their shoes explode.

“I can think of nothing more spectacular than the sun coming up over the horizon, ghouls jiving like they’ve been set ablaze, and the screams of the freshly maimed ghosts echoing down the street…because their shoes have exploded and apparently ghosts feel pain.”

2) Ghosts drive inside out cars, but “inside out” in our terms translates to “upside down”, so in actuality, ghosts drive upside down cars that they wrongfully believe to be inside out.

“I shall never respect a ghost that casually and truthfully refers to his or her car as being “inside out”. It’s just not true.  And I’ll fight any man, woman, or child who tries to tell me otherwise.”

3) Ghosts can count really fast when fast counting is needed.

“In one day alone, fast counting was needed 17 times, post haste, and I was surprised to find that ghosts were ready to count at extremely high speeds–much faster than the fastest living counter could ever hope to achieve.”

4) Ghost Saliva is delicious.

“It sometimes takes the help of two, maybe even THREE men, to hold down a ghost, but once you’ve dipped your fist into a ghost mouth, drawn out the rich saliva and slurped it from your palm, I can think of no greater taste on earth.”

5) Walking through walls is frowned upon–especially in front of the Royal Ghost Viceroy.

“The Royal Ghost Viceroy is not one for parlor tricks.  On more than one occasion when I tried to glide through a wall (merely to show them I approved of their ghostlyness), the Viceroy smote me with a hickory cane.”

6) Ghosts reproduce by eating the live young of other ghosts

“It’s a common misconception that ghosts reproduce asexually.  I’m proud to report that ghosts beget ghosts simply by unhinging their jaw and swallowing a ghost child whole.  It takes anywhere from 3-5 weeks for a ghost child to fully be digested and turn into a new ghost child–who will probably be promptly eaten upon being born.”

7) Ghosts smell in six dimensions, but that just means that, to ghosts, objects only smell like either paint, burnt toast, or different colored crayons (usually Fuchsia, Aqua, and Indian Red)

“Ghosts are not a politically correct people, and it was a little jarring to learn that they hadn’t discontinued the use or “Indian Red” crayons. They claimed “Indian Red” referred to the redish pigment from India, but that’s just absurd.”

8 ) Ghosts don’t call themselves “ghosts”.  They call themselves “ghosts”–pronounced go-hosts.

“They have a distinct and thick accent.  It’s very difficult to pronounce “ghost” correctly in their language.  I gave up after attempting the pronunciation a couple of times and ignored their disgusted looks.”

9) Ghosts only have four fingers, but they wear false fingers so they don’t accidentally scare the living with their de-fingered hands.

“Freaks.  But their saliva tastes like milk from the teat of the gods, so I’ll let it slide.”

10) Ghosts always have tongues, although not all the time and rarely never.

“The rate of tongueless ghosts seemed to increase as my men and I mined more regularly for ghost saliva.  Either we were yanking the tongues too hard or they have some sort of defense mechanism that causes their tongue to detach while their saliva is being removed.”

As my friend group’s sole consistently-attached woman, I’d spent the last five years quietly nursing the idea that I was being creatively stifled by the complacency of being in a decent relationship. My single friends seemed to get all the good material: hilariously awkward blind dates, dramatic break-ups, scintillating sexual encounters with strangers, and general frustration at the Darwinian mess that is dating in LA. My material, on the other hand, involved lots of cuddling, and arguing over whether or not to get the $7.25 special at Palermo again. Because shouldn’t we at least try something different?

Turns out “something different” can also mean “something awful”. Recently reintroduced to the world of the not-romantically-ecstatic, the blinding agony came with one very thing silver lining. At least, I thought, I can use this in my writing.

Turns out, I’m an idiot.

Here’s why:

1. I Can’t Stop Crying

Have you ever tried writing while crying? It looks stupid. I imagined writing with a broken heart to involve a lot of wistful staring and meaningful long blinks with early-millennial Dido songs playing softly in the background. Instead I sob like a red-faced infant and watch old Law & Order: SVU episodes while attempting to keep my computer away from all the tears and snot emitting from my face.

2. Everything I Write is Boring and Also Terrible

He had seven freckles. The third one was my favorite.
-Actual Line From Deleted Blog Post

Here’s the deal. I currently have a one-track mind. I think of one thing. And that thing that I’m thinking about is of no interest to anyone else on the planet. Well. Except for maybe one other person. Do you think he’s thinking these things too? Maybe I should call him. I should call him. He’s probably really sad. I should try and make him feel better. Maybe we could go to Palermo? That $7.25 special is a good deal… OH DAMN IT IT’S HAPPENING AGAIN. There are now zero people reading this post.

3. I Cannot Be Left Alone

Writing is a solitary pursuit. I cannot be left alone. A paradox.

4. I Have Verbal You-Know-What. And It Is DARK.

OK. So. If I can get over the foolishness of crying while writing, the fact that everything emitting from my ragged brain is boring and also terrible, and somehow navigate the mind-numbing awfulness of being all by myself… I still have to deal with the consequences of opening the floodgates. And once they’re open… they’re open. They’re open and they are crazy.

And don’t try and tell me that this whole thing is no big deal and it’s all going to be OK. Because you know what, Internet? Not everyone turns out OK. So could we stop pretending that the phrase “It’s gonna be all right” is in any way helpful? Because it’s not. Plenty of people die alone, plenty of people have ungrateful, wretched children and empty, soul-crushing jobs and mountains of debt and I’m sorry: that’s NOT “OK.” Or if it is? If that’s what OK means? I don’t want it. So stop telling me that things are going to be fine when there is absolutely nothing fine about it. Sometimes your boyfriend moves away while you’re out of town for work and you don’t even get to say goodbye. Sometimes you have to give up that perfect one-bedroom on Franklin and Vermont because now you don’t have anyone to share it with. AND THAT IS NOT OK, INTERNET. So stop telling me that this is all going to work out and be fine. I DON’T WANT TO HEAR IT.

WHY AREN’T I WRITING A NOVEL ABOUT ALL OF THIS? THE LEAST FATE CAN DO IS HELP ME WRITE A NOVEL. #FIRSTWORLDPROBLEMS.

5. Did I Mention I Can’t Stop Crying?

Here we go again.

See you all in a year or so, when I can behave like a normal person.

Here’s a repost, to keep you up on the happenings in brevityTV land:

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FEATURING SKETCH COMEDY FROM OTHER FUNNY PEOPLE ON THE INTERNET!

I’m so excited about this!

At brevityTV.com we love sketch comedy. As much as we are working on a few series for the for the future, we have our hearts in sketch. I grew up watching Monty Python’s, SNL, Kid’s in the Hall, The State, In Living Color… the list goes on. Now I have the opportunity to share with you some of the best sketch comedy I have found on youtube. You may recognize some of the videos, especially if you’re into watching funny videos on the web, and I’m hoping that I’ll shine a little light on more obscure talent in the web-comedy space. Feel free to comment and let me know if there’s a sketch I should put up. I’m always interested in watching a video that will make me laugh!

Claudia

In love.

Shaker dumbells

I don’t have many regrets…at least ones that I’m aware of…

…but one that gnaws away at the creamy peanut butter center inside of my head is that I never managed to finagle my way onto a Nickelodeon game show.  I am positive that I would have not only won any game show on the Nick network, but I would have won so handedly that my victory would have caused the other contestants to cry magma tears and for the host’s head to explode on camera (Nick would have aired the exploding head at least once–they were genuine ratings whores back then).  Here are just a few of the shows I would have won:

GUTS

This might have been the perfect show for me.  At the age of 12, I was in my athletic prime.  The other kids hadn’t outgrown me yet, and I had damn well caught up with those puberty prima donna girls.  So what was going to stop me from shattering every record in the GUTS arena, stepping over the half-dead bodies of my fellow contestants, swiping the glowing rock from Mike O’Malley and giving that sweet piece of ass, Moira Cork, a big ol’ smooch?  Not that fucking ‘Crag Troll, that’s for sure.  And certainly not those stingy judges that would DQ a superior contestant to try and satisfy a stupid bet they had made.  NO ONE WOULD HAVE STOPPED ME!!! MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!

Final Scene of the Show:

Half the arena is on fire–fires that my fast times and inhuman use of the areal bridge have caused.  After punching the ‘Crag Troll off of the Agro Crag, I rush down and slap Mike O’Malley with his microphone.  I proclaim my superiority to everyone in the building.  And as I laugh maniacally, the other contestants melt the stage floor with their magma tears and the head of Mike O’Malley explodes into Gak and Confetti.  Moira Cork asks for my hand in marriage and just after I accept, several police officers cart her ass off to jail for soliciting a minor.

Nick Arcade

The level of incompetence displayed on this show always infuriated me.  You didn’t need to be that skilled at video games to win, let alone make it into the final round.  Most of the skill lied in being able to guess stupid crap like: what type of food (almost always pizza or ice cream) is hidden behind these feathers!?  Or…guess how many tomatoes this random street carny can stuff into his over-sized pants!!  As long as you didn’t have a partner that was dumb as shit, you were golden.  Gohhhhhhhhhhhldennnnn.  And then there was the final round–”Mikey’s World” as some coked out exec had cleverly named it.  To beat this section of Nick Arcade, you merely had to be able to stare at a TV screen and walk with minimal coordination.  If you don’t remember the show…Check out this clip

Final Scene of the Show

My partner is unconscious and lying in a heap in the corner of the studio because I knocked him/her out so she couldn’t screw things up during the final segment of the show.  I easily won, because I know how to dodge invisible objects.  In fact, I won so easily that the host, Phil Moore, and several Nickelodeon goons confront me like mob thugs before the show has cut to commercial.  I make a quick escape after one of the thugs is badly burned by the magma tears of one of the losing contestants and the other thug is incapacitated after Phil Moore’s head explodes into confetti and Gak.

Legends of the Hidden Temple

This show was a crap shoot–an absolute fucking crap shoot.  You not only needed an athletic partner, but you needed some brains to get past the story round.  The actual Temple was a fuck-a-roo fun house in itself.  First of all, A LOT of the trap doors and gadgets didn’t work.   I remember episodes where the kids on the show were in tears because they KNEW the stupid Temple was broken.  And then there was the temple guards you had to deal with.  OHhhhhhhhhhh those Temple Guards.  Sometimes you’d think you’d made it half-way through the damned Temple, only to realize that a Temple Guard from the first room had gotten stuck in the ball pit and had to chase you down!  Oh, and if you didn’t have two full pendants, you were screwed.  Game Over, Palzy, thanks for playing, now get the hell out!

So how am I so certain that I would have won this game show from hell?  Simple  I would have forcibly been placed on the Silver Snakes team.  They had the highest winning percentage out of any team.  Clearly, the numbers should be random, but the silver snakes had, by far, the best winning percentage.  What does that tell you?  The game had ties to Vegas.  And if I was on the silver snakes, I had a pretty good chance of coming out on top.

Final Scene from the Show

I’m running for my life out of the temple with the idol.  Gunshots are ringing out all around me because Kirk Fogg has a sniper shooting at me.

Kirk Fogg: Somebody stop that little bastard!  He’s not supposed to win!  I’ve got 10 grand on this damn game!

As I stumble out of the Temple steps, my partner (who was practically useless the entire show) passes out in disbelief.  Meanwhile, the other contestants are crying tears of steaming hot magma and Kirk Fogg’s head has exploded all over Olmec’s rubbery face.  Take THAT Fogg!!  HAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!

Great example of a great performance and hilarious writing doing all the work… one location. Direct to camera. Deliciousness.