September 10, 2009

Bit More Clickity Click Click Click

Murphy's turn.

I'm sitting at this coffee shop in Lawrence, Kansas waiting on my iced cappuccino and typing on my laptop. As is the guy next to me. As is the girl next to me. As is the couple I see on the other side of the shop. Is this a trend now? I wonder what they're typing. I wonder if they're wondering what I'm typing. I'm going to ask this guy what he's typing. He was mean and gave me the silent treatment. I'll ask this girl. Apparently, she's writing a comedic play. She talked to me because I have an accent.

Why do you Americans call it "football"? I'm not saying I don't like it. It's an exciting sport, but where's the feet? Okay, kick-off and punting. I understand that. But why don't you call it what it is: rugby with pads and helmets? Was that an insult? I don't know. Take it how you want to.

I've been invited to parties in which people were going to "party like a rock star". That's pretty broad considering how many different genres of rock there are. Are we going to party like heavy metal rockers, punk rockers, folk rockers, etc.? Be specific, people. If we're going to party like heavy metal rock stars, that may be too much for me, but I may be able to take the mellow folk atmosphere. Keep this in mind next time you use that phrase.

Order's up. Mmmmmmmmmmmm. Yummy. She wrote her number on the side of my cup. I should let her know that I'm currently taken. She blushed out of embarrassment. Turns out, she handed me the wrong cup. Oh, what a story that will make for her to tell all her friends.

Set up for a suspense film: a detective tracks down a serial killer known as the Barrel O' Monkeys killer because he leaves a little red plastic monkey at every murder because that's what he feels murder is as fun as. Ridiculous, yes. Fun, yes. Enthralling, highly unlikely.

Like Tanner before me, I decided to do a spellcheck. The only thing highlighted was "Mmmmmmmmmmmm". I decided to see if there were any suggestions to spell this correctly. No suggestions. Spellcheck, how is it a misspelling if you have not suggestions for it? I don't understand you, spellcheck. I just don't UNDESTAND you.

Yes, that misspelling was intentional.

I just got a dirty look from some guy who walked in. Is it my hat? Does this fellow think I'm just another trendy hipster who thinks it's cool to go to a coffee shop and type random nonsense onto his or her laptop? I'll have you know, sir, that many Irishman are known to wear caps like this. Don't pigeonhole me just because I'm on a laptop in a coffee shop wearing a vest and flip-flops along with this hat. I'm going to say something to my new friend to my right as he walks by. He looked and smiled. Oh, you realize I'm Irish now so you say to yourself "Oh, THAT'S why he's wearing that cap. I thought he was trying to be cool like most kids these days. He's not sad, anymore." Go drown in your latte.

Why don't we have more washboard players in bands? The washboard is an amazing instrument. If you play the washboard, you are partying like a folk rock star. Way to be, my friend. Way. To. Be. I love you.

So, my new friend rocks. Her comedic play is about a girl rocker who works as a receptionist and who's best friend is a robot. This is brilliant stuff. Possible platonic soul mate? I think so.

Victoria, I won't date her. Don't worry.

Tanner just told me that he has to go in for jury duty selection on Monday. Wouldn't be great if he got some dramatic case that will eventually get turned into an episode of Law & Order? He can then say "THIS OUTCOME HAPPENED BECAUSE OF ME!!!" And he would say that. He would jump up and shout that. And then he'd flail his arms about. And there would be a koala. Why would there be a koala? Because there just would be. Never question Bruce Dickincon!

You have reached the end of the blog. Congratulations. And Nina: How dare you splash your plain coffee into my iced cappuccino. Such things are atrocities in the world of coffee counter culture.

September 8, 2009

Click Click Click Goes The Keyboard

I'm experimenting today. Instead of coming to you with something already planned, I'm going to let my fingers do the talking. Well, the typing. But my fingers always do the typing, don't they? Well, my fingers will type while my mind wanders aimlessly into odd and ends and ins and outs. Understand? No? Good enough.

So things. Things are things and some of these things I like. Other things I'm not a big fan of. Not sure why. Maybe it has to do with personal tastes or maybe a clash of beliefs. Who knows? God knows. And the Shadow knows. Wait, the Shadow doesn't know why I'm not a fan of them. But he knows what evil lurks in the hearts of men. Then he laughs after stating what said evils are. He's maniacally heroic like that, don't ya know?

I just did a spell check. No misspellings found, thus far. Maybe a few grammatical errors, but not misspellings. That's fine. I'm okay with grammatical errors. Who cares if the I have adjectives and adverbs mixed up? Do you? You do? Well, you must be a communist. How dare you disagree with me and the wonderful world of capitalism. You and your communism. How dare you. I have no love for you.

Itchy hand. Wonder why it itches so. No bites there. No scratches. No scabs. No reason for it to itch. But it just started itching. Odd. Many things are odd. You most likely find me odd, right now. If you do and you're actually enjoying it, then you're alright. But if you think me being odd is just too odd, go to the previous paragraph and start reading it at the seventh sentence. Eventually you'll make your way back here. Unless you went back again. Then you'll wind up reading in circles and never read what I'm typing right now. Therefore it would be useless for me to even be explaining this thus wasting the time of the people who enjoy my oddness. But there might be a chance they get entertainment out of your childlike ignorance. If this is the case, everyone wins. Except the communists.

My dog was outside for fifteen minutes. I let him out to go to the bathroom. He comes in and starts sniffing around. He doesn't need food and water. He has that already. Maybe he needs out again, despite the fact he just came in. I let him out. He urinated. But he did that when I let him out the first time. Cowboy, I hope you're okay. Many of you may be alarmed by this, thinking his bladder may be having problems due to his age. Worry not, dear friend. He just drank the rest of his water when he came back in. Did I forget to mention this earlier? I did? Well, I'll remember not to do that again. Thank you for informing me.

SweeTarts are more tart than sweet, in my humble opinion. Humble opinion. Is it really humble? I'm stating it, hoping people will listen to me and maybe adopt this opinion. Doesn't seem too humble to me. I'll restate that. In my opinion. There. Problem solved. I'm glad you read that and have now taken this opinion and are touting it about as if it is your own. But it is not your own. It's not my own. Many people could have this opinion.

One reason I'm writing this is to prove that drugs and alcohol are not needed for random writing such as this. If you're bored enough; eccentric enough; hyper enough; occasionally pretentious enough; and have a means to put the words down, then you too can do such a feet. Try it sometime. You may be surprised.

Olivia and Murphy just drank my last two Jones Sodas. How dare they. This means war, my cerebral cellmates. This. Means. War. Sleep with one eye open.

You are most likely confused. Objective: complete.

Who are you? And why are you reading this? I'd honestly like to know. Seriously. Tell me. Who are you? I really WANT to know.

These people befuddle me on occasions. Like my father. He's standing there watching the television. This is nothing out of the ordinary. But I'm taking into consideration what it is on the television he's watching. The Marvelous Misadventures of Flapjack. Why is he stopping to actually pay attention to it? It's not normally a show he'd take any interest in. Why?

I just let Cowboy out again. He left a present on the porch. He does that sometimes because he feels since he's a dog, he doesn't have to conform to the behavioral codes of society. Fight the power, Cowboy.

Olivia said my mom bought that cherry Jones for her. No she didn't, Olivia. She specifically said "I bought you some Jones, Tanner. Better hide it." "You" refers to me, Olivia. "Me" being Tanner. "Tanner" being the one writing this. "The one writing this" being someone who is a bit too out there at times. Some still find it hard to believe I don't use drugs. Do I really come across that way?

I was accused of being a pot-smoking hippy by the pickle vendor at the Ren Faire. How dare he.

I think I've written enough.


Tanner Criswell Roberts.


September 3, 2009

Cartoons That Could Do Well In Live-Action Territory (If Done Right) Part Three

Now belonging to this blog, I feel I should do one of these as a rite of passage. And even though I have a list of action packed cartoons on my list, I felt I should do something a bit different than what Tanner and Murph have posted.

Stop me if you've heard this one: girl tries to lead a fairly average life while moonlighting as a world famous pop sensation. Sound familiar? If you said Hannah Montana, I'm going to kill you face clean off.

I'm talking about...

For those of you not familiar with this series, Jem is the alter ego of Jerrica Benton, owner of Starlight Music. Jerrica must juggle duties of manager of Starlight and her super rockin career as Jem, lead singer of the holograms (let's see Miley try to run her own studio. BOOYAH, BABY BILLY RAY!!!). But instead of just donning a wig, Jerrica becomes Jem using Synergy, her father's greatest invention. For those wondering, Synergy was a holographic computer designed as a state-of-the-art audio/visual synthesizer (SYNergy!!! GET IT?!?!?!)

Jem travels around with her band/friends, the Holograms. However, trouble always follows due to their rival band known as the Misfits (not to be confused with that incredibly bad ace band that Hot Topic has milked the crud out of). They'd most likely just use the Stingers as the rival band, so as not to confuse anyone (plus I have a good feeling shirts for this movie will eventually land in Hot Topic).

If this were to be transferred to the screen, it would be best done as a musical dramedy. Part of me wants to see Jem as a bit of an indy pop/rocker type, but I'll still be fine as the strictly glitterized pop songstress. She needs to run into the Misfits quite a bit (and maybe the Stingers for the crazy, pretentious, nostalgia freak like me).

Casting. For casting............ okay ya got me there. I don't get as into picking actors out like Tanner and Murphy. I say just grab a talented unknown off broadway and see what happens.

Okay, so mine wasn't as detailed as the boys', but it got my point across. We need a Jem movie to be an ultra rocking anti-Hannah Montana.

I am Olivia and I am done.