Static Girl's Writing Promps

Friday, March 28th, 2003

So; Static Girl has this "writing prompts" thing on her webpage right now. I went back and read my writing prompts from 1999, LOVED them, and I am presently so dry that I'm willing to try just about anything. So I'm gonna have a go at her writing prompts. I will be utilizing TPG's world-famous batter's box advice for trying to hit a curveball; I'm gonna swing late; I'm gonna swing low, and I'm gonna swing HARD--you know, just in case I hit something. Perhaps you should all take one step back.

1. Do you like talking on the phone? Why or why not?

Yes I do. Unfortunately, this is the trap that tricks salesmen into becoming telemarketers. Leading a conversation is easy, especially when you're talking to a clueless moron. And then you get kicked off the radio, and you get forced into doing phone sales for 6-8 hours a day, and all of a sudden you don't like talking on the phone so much. I got lost, didn't I? Damn. Next!

2. Who is the last person you talked to on the phone?

TPG; he's my best friend. I try to talk to him everyday. He is a master communicator of all forms; even if he's too modest to admit it. Next!

3. About how many telephones do you have at home?

Hey, nobody said we'd have to do any math in this shit, and now you want me to count phones? Hang on...4; yes, 4. Definitely 4. No wait; 4 are hooked up and like, can be used. And then there's like, 3 other phones in my closet, and 2 of them are broken. Okay, folks, we have an answer here! Any dumbass adult (me) who would keep MULTIPLE BROKEN PHONES in his closet must absolutely fucking LOVE to talk on the phone. We have a winner; or, in this case we have a LOSER! Next!

4. Have you encountered anyone who has really bad phone manners? What happened?

Hello? I've done phone sales off and on for 14 years; so YOU pick a goddamn year, and I'll tell you some of the shit I had to deal with. This is a stupid prompt; and I've got broken phones in my closet. Bad phone manners; my hairy white ass, bad phone manners. How about my new SCF agent who accused me of lying in the first 20 minutes of our first chat ever? Did that dumb bitch think she was building a good relationship like that? Women have not done well with me this week.

5. Would you rather pick up the phone and call someone or write them an e-mail or a letter? Why or why not?

I may try to be serious here, because this is a GREAT question. I ENJOY the voices of most of the people that I CHOOSE to talk to; so in a socializing environment I would rather call somebody. Talking gets to the point much faster than either type of mailing. And then there's the internet connection; we still have poor people dial-up, and I'm still a phone person.

Here are 5 more prompts; unfortunately they are about reading.

1. What is your favorite type of literature to read (magazine, newspaper, novels, nonfiction, poetry, etc.)?

I sure as hell wouldn't call this corporate fudge-pack labelled as the Arizona Republic newspaper "literature", but I read the newspaper everyday. Magazines with shiny cars and naked women are nice, too, but let's talk about reading in general. I SHOULD like to read; reading is for people with vivid imaginations, and reading is for people who are easily amused. I just don't find myself sitting still very often (caffeine junkie, thank you); I want to laugh at something on the comedy channel, you know, I'm not really looking to "get lost" in a book. If I'm going to sink ALL of my attention into something, it's got to have some feedback; I am the ONLY person I know who still plays Gran Turismo and GT2 on the original Playstation. I can't tell you WHY, but I can tell you that GT is music, sound effects, simulated driving/racing, skill, luck, and instant gratification. A BOOK is black type on white paper, and that is ALL a fucking book will ever be; period. Thank you. Next!

2. What is your favorite novel?

Great; now I have to look up "novel" in my 17 yr. old dictionary. Hang on..."an invented prose narrative that is usually long and complex..." Okay, you know what? This is not working out. Was Huxley's "Brave New World" a novel? Fuck it, man. Broken phones; 2 of 'em.

3. Do you have a favorite poem? (Share it!)

Toot. This is kind of cool, because in the shower earlier today I was thinking about how I need to dig out some of my 80's poetry and "update" some of them into today's culture. I mean, YOU never read my classic 'hangover' poem. And "Old Learning", damn, that's almost 20 years ago. Just so you know what kind of only child you're dealing with, I have written the 100 best poems EVER written. Okay? So you want me to tell you which single ONE of my poems is the absolute best? No! You want my "favorite" poem...Can't do it, sorry. But I can narrow it down to 2 that I have ALREADY posted (my webpage; "Stuff from before 1999") on this internet thing; "April's Tow", and "Untitled". They are both over 10 years old, and both better than anything else I have ever seen. Period. I mean it. Go ask Static Girl, and go ask TPG if either knows of a better traditional poet. Dax V is another fine traditional poet, but he is NOT an only child, and does not think as highly of himself as I do of me. So nyaaa. Next!

4. What is one thing you've always wanted to read, or wish you had more time to read?

Time? Okay, "time" is not what I'm going to need in order to read. I'm going to need some fucking patience. I love those people who say 'oh the book was SO much better than the movie'. I say "Really? Did you finish the book in 2 hours?" And they say 'no'. And I say "Well I did. And now I'm ready for a cup of coffee, or a beer. Bye." Jeezus. Life happens too damn fast to be sitting behind a book OR a desk; I don't even read the liner notes in most of my favorite CD's. You know who reads? Prisoners read; kids who can't graduate high school until they read "Brave New World" read. I fell asleep reading "Jaws" when I was 12. I figured then, brilliantly I might add, that if an activity I choose to do PUTS ME TO SLEEP, then maybe that's a STUPID FUCKING ACTIVITY. God, I'm getting all worked up here; maybe I need to go read some liner notes and take a nap. Next!

5. What are you currently reading?

Hate to break this to you, but I'm sitting at the computer right now. So I was reading a bunch of shit that I ALREADY WROTE, and then I glanced over at my CD collection, and my eyes landed on both Better Than Ezra CD's; "Deluxe", and "Friction, Baby!" So I guess I'm about to play the song "Good" on my stereo, hey look at that, and now I'm going to go get some more Code Red Mountain Dew. May I again recommend that YOU go read my writing prompts back in 1999. Those were pretty good. Later, maybe we should all go back and read the Constitution of the United States. 'All men are created equal'; cute words coming entirely from slave-owners; did you ever put any thought into that one? No, you were probably too busy reading some Stephen King crap or a "Hobbitt" book. Am I writing or ranting? It doesn't matter, just take another step back.

5 Paragraphs To Make Myself Cry:

It may turn out to be that all of us had a bunch of "alone" time when we were kids, teens, and young adults. Many kids read books, and good for them. I didn't. I had a skateboard, and parents with good album collections. I could "borrow" a record, play both sides on my stereo, and sneak it back before anybody knew anything. I listened to music, great music, while writing letters that would never be delivered; letters to celebrities, dead people, or girls who wouldn't talk to me. I had shoeboxes full. I wasn't popular; I was the weird kid who would break things over his head. I hated my life, hated my parents; I hated everything. Well, everything except music and skateboarding--both of which I was forced to do alone, and later on, both of which I would CHOOSE to do alone. Skateboarding lost out to pinball, and then masturbation conquered both; and now I'm a completely self-contained unit--in my room, spanking and writing to Pink Floyd, Deep Purple, and the Allman Brothers. Unfortunately, you can only write until your mother turns your light off; so then I'm under the covers with my clock/radio, listening to the Wolfman and Dr. Demento; dreaming of being the Overnight Guy (and that's a story for another time). At school, I'd hear of other kids french kissing, unhooking bras, and fingering. Sure I was jealous. But I also saw the hypocrisy of popularity; 2-faced and back-stabbing. And as soon as I was convinced that the world was completely screwed, man, what a summer. 15 turning 16, it turns out that I'm a decent writer, with a good knowledge of rock and roll, and I went from dorky to cute (apparently). Perhaps popularity was ready for me, but I wasn't ready to become popular. I had to quickly learn shock value to keep people from getting too close. I had been alone in my room with a wet towel for so long that I didn't want to talk on the phone for 4 hours a night. I've got letters to write, and poetry; music to appreciate, and a towel to keep sticky. No luck; you push the bastards away, and they just come back stronger. Fine; I'll be popular. So I "date" a whore (to lose my virginity), got a car, had 2 friends--Stan and David (wow, never had more than 1 friend before), and BOOM, I die in a car wreck 2 days later. Boy oh boy, if I wasn't confused before, then I was certainly lost now.

My point, the one that was forgotten hours ago, is that I wrote, listened to music, and masturbated. And I got pretty damn good at all 3 of them. There is no time to read books, dude, I'm sorry. It's 20 years later now; want to know where I am? Staying up all night, listening to NIN (The Fragile), talking to myself, writing, and there's lots of towels within reach.

Pay attention; I DON'T LIKE THIS WORLD. I never did, and I doubt that I ever will. The best parts of this world are the individual journeys that you take by yourself, and with yourself. For most people, reading books creates one of these individual journeys. I never said that reading was bad; it's just not for me. Instead of reading, I wrote.

Now if I do this correctly, I'll be crying soon--yup, right on schedule. And then I'm going to slam dunk this NOVEL of a commentary...Wait for it...

You know, you can pull down any book you read 20 years ago and re-read it. And you can pretend that it's fresh, and fantasize that you don't know how it's going to end, and get lost in a familiar or brand new journey. And it's wonderful, and good for you--the journey (after all) IS what's important. But do you want to know what you CANNOT do while you're on your journey? You CANNOT talk to yourself; you CANNOT wave your arms around, and (quite frankly) you CANNOT listen to music THIS good while you are on somebody ELSE'S journey (you didn't write that damn book). I, however, can go over to that closet with 2 broken phones in it, and pull down a blue Pace milkcrate that contains the BEST poetry that has EVER been written. And it's ALL MINE. I can change any ending, any beginning, anything and everything. Old journeys, new journeys, any journeys; I can even LISTEN TO Journey while I'm cruising around on mine; and you CANNOT, because you are reading somebody else's book. My unknown poetic vacation is unlimited by any facet, and your tunneled trip requires absentee or absolute concentration.
I'm not saying that I'm better than you; I'm proving it. Right now. Bye.

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