Complete Bastard

BLOOOOOG! How u been?

Seem like foreeeeeever since we last tlked. Bra. Kay, mybe/few weeks, but u no me, lol, I'm juz SO cr8zee w/tym, lmfao.

Okay, enough of that shit. Sorry, I'm bereft of any better ideas. OU's students are coming back this week, and school starts up next Tuesday, so I'm trying to hip-up my blog to appeal to their largely illiterate sensibilities. My new job is going pretty well, but my boss is pretending that she or he is going to have to dick me out of my requested hours. If that's the case, I'm not super concerned, so long as I'm pulling down at least 15 per week.

That said, this week she or he is training a bunch of new people he or she can't afford to employ, and, since I'm struggling to take care of my side of rent, while balancing my parental duties, and I'm least qualified to work mornings. Never mind the fact I'm a college graduate with a solid resume, service industry experience and regularly published writings. Not that I was hired based on a resume, or even an application, for that matter. I refuse to directly name my employer or company, as I like to be nice about these things. Also, the economy is Goddamn atrocious. That said, I'm two weeks into this job and already feeling dead inside coming away from it on a daily basis. That's a world record if you ask me. (Editor's Note: See The Bottom For A Semi Resolution To This Choppy Bout of Whining)

As for my non-stop gap jobs,

On the writing side of things, I'm pulling down some ambitious hours for DVD Verdict this week. Last night was 2 1/2 hours of iCarly episodes, as accompanied by my step son (we'll call him Leonard for the sake of anonymity). Leonard is the biggest iCarly fan you can find, and even he was starting to break after the first hour. The marathon slowly devolved into something bordering on punishment, leaving him grumpy and wanting his DS before it was all over. Still, I've sat through worse kids shows, and worse DVDs for the site (despite being a few weeks into my career), so it wasn't that bad. I'm coming up on a massive WWE review for the site which will have me watching three hours of wrestling per day to meet my deadline. I'm not sure if I can do it, but my ladyfriend, we'll call her Hi-May, has challenged, and I refuse to deny her acceptance. I'm a Goddamned sucker like that.

Screenwriting-wise, I'm still grinding away on the fourth draft of my slasher script, attempting to push it beyond the storytelling boundaries of the formula without taking it so far out it stops feeling like a slasher film. I was hoping to be done by the end of the month, but the end of NEXT month seems like a good enough goal at this point. I try to work on it at least 30 minutes a day, but with my brain its hard to stay focused. I blame the caffeine, and the fact that I get bored easily. I also blame this on my nymphomania (j/k lol omg!).

Inspiration wise, I'm reading through various back issues of Videoscope magazine and am also diving into a collection of Stephen King writing essays (not On Writing, which I've read four times now- this one's cherry picked over the 80s, 90s, and today, like top 40 radio). Watching wise, I'm still finding a great deal of comfort in old episodes of King of the Hill streamed from Netflix. I still say its the most sharply written, character-driven animated sitcom ever, and the best thing Mike Judge or Greg Daniels will ever do.

I'm also pondering trying my hand at stand-up comedy, something I've always felt semi-suited for, but have been hesitant to tackle based on, well, how creatively thin I spread myself in other arenas. I'm actually making lists of material. I think the fact my job is pissing me off so much helps. There's a lot of material there that needs vocalization outside of me bitching at my friends and family.

TTFN

Harry (Like The New Pseudonym?)

POST SCRIPT:

I actually just went and talked to my boss after posting this, and we quite reasonably worked things out. Apparently there was a three-fisted combination of inter-office paranoia stemmed by water cooler gossip, mis-communication between myself and the big cheese, as well as some semi-deceitful, psychological torture occurring between certain slop jockeys. I don't feel totally great about it (I won't until it all gets settled down for the remainder of the quarter), but I feel much better about it in comparison to the apocalyptic nadir of the above post. That's all I can ask for. The lesson: talking reasonably to someone is more constructive than planning over-elaborate, fictitious revenge plots in your head. Plus, I don't think they even make Easy Bake Ovens that big anyway.

Yours ridiculously,

Harry Lime