My Guidette

If it’s no big chore, 
I would like you to meet me at the jersey shore. 
I know it’s a bit outta the way, 
I really hope you would come and stay. 


We’ll spend the days
walking up and down the boardwalk. 
We’ll spend the days
just stayin’ up so we could talk. 


And hopefully we’ll be able to see, 
Sam and Jwoww fighting 'cause of Ronnie. 
Or maybe on the clubs dance floor we’ll see, 
The Situation, Vinny, and Pauly d. 


I would love it if you could be my guidette
both get orange spray tans and we’ll be set. 

I would love it if you could be my guidette

both get orange spray tans and we’ll be set. 

We could both go hit the club scene and start creeping. 
Oh god, I hope you’ll be creeping for me. 
And after all of this
Both head back home 
I know i will miss
The smile on your face
you wear it with such grace. 


And if it’s no big chore, 
I would love it if you could meet me at the jersey shore. 


(I wrote this a while ago... during the first season to be exact.)

Ten second Tom

So what's my favorite color?" shew asked in a playful tone and a warm smile.


“You want me to tell you what your favorite color is? C’mon, that’s way too easy. Ask me something that will actually require thinking.” I said in a desperate attempt to change the question.


“Tell me.” She said, which usually means I should answer the question because she knows I don’t know the answer.


"She caught my bluff. Yeah, she’s good… too good." I said to myself.


"Okay, you know this one. You know her favorite color, so don't panic. Take in a couple of breathes. She's told you like a trillion times before. Just stay calm. And don't forget to smile back." I thought to myself. I began to feel the tingly sensation begin to erupt on my face, as my cheeks began to blush. I was blushing from the embarrassment—the embarrassment of not knowing the most simple and trivial questions. She is going to hate me forever now, forever.


We’ve been together for some time now. We’ve shared may beautiful moments and our share of some not so beautiful moments—so not knowing her favorite color would be a lot like me not knowing what my own mothers name is besides mom. This may not be a dire question which may lead to emotional ten car pile-up, but can illustrate whether or not I am paying attention to every word she is saying. I understand I won’t be able to hear every single word, but god knows I can try. I swear I’ve written down more information on things she likes and what she doesn’t like that I can write an entire Wikipedia entry on her.


“Her favorite color is red! I think.” I thought to myself in a panic.


“I can remember this one time when we both went shopping in the jungles of the mall hunting for the perfect lip stick color; she was tired of the lipstick she already had. We tracked it down near the Mac cosmetic section in Dillard’s—the perfect shade of red. We got it. It almost melted on the drive home, the trucks interior became a furnace because it waited outside under the glow of the summer’s intolerable sunshine. I fashioned a belt to hold it up against the AC vent out of lined paper. It made it back to her house in one solid form. And also like the mysterious red sweater that magically appeared inside my car when she was just about to freeze her then red nose off. Or like when we went on out first kind of-sort of date-ish thing when we feed ducks an entire loaf of cheap bread from Food City. She shaped a crude ring out of the tie that’s used to close the bread off, and I still have somewhere archived on my bed room floor.”


She’s looking at me like she knows what I’m doing. She knows I’m scanning my memory banks, my Karina archives, for clues. She’s too smart, or I’m just too stupid. I’ll figure it out… and soon hopefully.


The last time we played this game—the “I know, I know you better game”, I did really well. I answered without hesitation like a crack-head throwing away his last hard earned ten dollars from washing car windshields outside a Food City parking lot on a tiny rock of crack, and now look at me; I’m like that same crack-head at his intervention thinking back on all the good times, or bad, chasing that first high. It’s not going to end well if I can’t produce the right shade of color she had specifically told me. Man, why wasn’t I blessed with a memory to rival that of an elephant, or Brad Williams, or at least 10 second Tom from 50 First Dates. Oh well, I guess I got to work with what I got.


"It’s blue! Hold on now, why do I think it’s blue?” I asked myself.


“Oh yeah, I remember now! Like when we hung out for the first time almost two-and-a-half years ago, she had these two thin braids locked together behind her head with a deep ocean blue hair tie with the rest of her hair falling down her shoulders—and those blue flats she wore that same day to climb up a steep hill like a mountain goat. And also, blue like the Victoria Secret sweater she astoundingly accomplished to survive in when we were climbing up Cat Back; the thunder storms caught us midway up and washed us down like a couple of itsy bitsy spiders climbing up a water spout. So much for the 60% chance of rain the forecast called for, it seemed like they were 40% off. And how could I forget, blue like her frozen shivering lips trying to mimic the shape of a smile.” I thought quickly to myself.


Well, I’m sure I am not the first person to forget their significant others favorite color and by no means —the last one to do so neither. I guess I would be kind of a lucky one to have forgotten her favorite color rather than an important date like and anniversary, a birthday, or forgot to tell her she has something stick in between her teeth. The only thing I got to do is to pay closer attention to everything that happens to make it past her lips, and pray to god that I won’t forget anything else for quite some time, or until she forgets about this little incident.


"Your favorite color is brown." I said as my head sank below the quiet waves of my cold arms.

My 3 Top Blogs

I was trying to find some information about what’s going on with Arrested Development movie, when I found Vulture. Vulture is a blog about movies, music, and television--everything dealing with entertainment. I found an article on what I was looking for and was excited to see the words saying what I've been wanting to hear for a long time.

"Comedy nerds are just now regaining consciousness after the news broke that there will likely not just be an Arrested Development movie, but also a mini-series leading up to it." as stated by Jenna Marotta, the writer of the article.

 

The article also goes on to talk about how some of the props that were sold on eBay.

"Buster’s prosthetic hand — the results of a run-in with a seal — $350; Gob’s Segway, $7,500."  both of which I would have loved to have.

Schrute Space is the blog of a character from the television show the office, Dwight Schrute. Dwight Schrute post things which might make you a better salesmen with posts like:

"The Way to a Clients Pocket is through their Stomach--You don't become an effective salesman just by offering competitive prices or handing out fictitious compliments to unfortunate-looking clients. Sometimes you have to cook for them. Last night I whipped up a big batch of Grandmother Gorch's casserole for a client dinner. It looked terrible (I'm no food sculptor), but it was definitely good enough. I landed Armstrong Accounting after he took his first bite. What's the recipe, you ask? What the hell, I'll give it to you. I'm feeling randomly generous." He states on his blog.

And, "Hay Place: A Place for Hay--'Hay Place' was a fall custom in the Schrute family for many generations. As soon as the autumnal equinox was upon us, you could find Uncle Eldred behind the barn, stacking hay with his good arm. He would toil for hours on end to create "Hay World," as it was known back then.  Unfortunately one year the hay spontaneously combusted resulting in a brutal fire, and Hay World was permanently suspended. The children cried into their pumpkins; the shreds of remaining hay were brought to the outhouse for alternative uses."

I was laughing throughout his posts--they're all specatularly done. I would like to become a writer for a movie or teleivion show someday, so being able to read things which sound like it would actually be coming out of his mouth make this so much better and enjoyable to me. This makes Dwight Schrute seem like a real person and not just a character on a tv show.

Over the years, I have been told by my parents, my family, and everyone else in between that playing video games is bad for you because it rots the brain. I never believe that it was harming me in any way, so I didn’t stop. I’m glad I didn’t stop playing games. I’ve lived the heroes journey more than 100 times, I’ve learned good dialog versus bad dialog, and what makes a good story—all while sitting in front of a TV.

“You’re not learning anything from sitting in front of the TV playing video games all day.” I can remember my mom yelling at me when I was younger.

I have found a blog which has its sights set to give gaming a better reputation.

“We want to be what early Rolling Stone was to rock n’ roll or Wired was to tech. We want to look like the Fader and walk like the Believer. We’re talking about the long format read on the creative minds behind blockbuster and indie game titles sided by personal essays about what games mean to our daily little lives,”  which is stated on the “about us” of the blogs site.

On the site I found a review for a game called “Gears of War 3.” The writer compares playing the game, which is slow in parts, to Frank Sinatra’s slow songs. It was interesting to see the caparisons.

Kill Screen

I Locked my Keys Inside my Car, Again.

This website has other people like me who have locked their keys inside the car. Some stories are worse, and others are just bad days like mine. I was looking for other people who share my pain, and found it here. heres mine.

I woke up late; the day was already going downhill. Then, I went to take a shower; I dropped my wallet into the toilet. I should have known by then that this was foreshadowing how the rest of my day was heading… straight down the toilet.

When I get to class we had an exam that I swore I thought was going to be on Wednesday, but as my luck on the day it was moved to Monday. After the exam, I headed right over to Urban Outfitters, so that I could return a dress for a smaller size. I went in with high hopes, and after twenty minutes of listening to the cashier talk to five different stores; I left with a lesser dress I knew wasn’t going to be liked.

I reach for my door handle and see a sparkle in the corner of my eye--"the keys!" I yelled at myself.

I almost snapped; I almost cried--because this was the second time in the same month that I had locked my keys inside a car. "When will I learn?" I cried out in frustration.

 I tried everything I could think of: I tried to push the windows down to see if it would give. I even googled how to break into a car, but was pointless because it said I needed a Slim Jim. I scouted the whole downtown area for a police officer. The only thing I ended up getting was my forehead sun burnt, and I spent 45 dollars to get someone to open it--money well spent.

The Wonder Years front man, Dan "soupy" Campbell, shares his beliefs on organized religion

“If we're all just Christians or Lions, then I think I'd rather be on the side with sharper teeth. I don't need saving.” With lyrics like this from the song "I won't say the lord's prayer" people might think the singer for The Wonder Years, Dan Campbell, might just have a bone to pick with religion.

Dan Campbell goes to state in the interview with Alternative Press; “In any religion, one of the pillars or principles is, 'This is the correct religion and there are no gods but your god.' So to a certain extent, anyone who believes in Christianity or anyone that believes in Islam or Judaism is at the same time saying that the Islamic faith is wrong—which is pretty much the same thing I'm saying [by believing in no particular faith at all]. I believe all of these things I've been brought up to believe and have been pushed on me since I was younger; they're all wrong and false. Not that every principle of the religion is bad, but the crux of it is that I've been lied to.”

He also takes a swing at the Westboro Baptists in the song “Dynamite Shovel" he says,

“Rest stop in Tennessee, I found where the ignorant fucks of the world meet for donuts and coffee spewing rhetoric I thought was reserved for Westboro Baptist and lunatics like that. These small town minds stay small. The world evolved so stay in your shithole. We're moving on.” I can appreciate the fact that he is speaking his mind and talking about what he doesn’t see as right in the world and taking on religious ideals, and The Westboro Baptists.

The Wonder Years--"I won't say the lords prayer"

The Wonder Years--"Dynamite Shovel".

Alternative Press.

Paintings by Jeff Soto

I have seen Jeff Sotos artwork around for some time now, and I have always been able to just stare at one of his works for around ten days straight. There is always something new to find in the colorful, detailed background, or in the foreground. He also interests me because we share the same last name of Soto.
"The artist’s distinct color palette, subject matter and technique resonate with a growing audience and bridge the gap between Pop Surrealism and graffiti. Inspired by youthful nostalgia, nature, graffiti, hip-hop and popular culture, his bold, representational work is simultaneously accessible and stimulating" as stated by his mini biography on his website.


For the entire collection of Jeff Sotos painting visit his website:
jeffsoto.com

Pothole Gardening

I found these photos to be a breath of fresh air; no lie, every single photo he has taken of his pothole gardens are spectacular in every sense. This guy, Steve Wheen, doesn't claim to be the first pothole gardener or guerrilla gardener at that, but to me, he has some of the best pieces  I have seen.

He creates these great detailed works in spaces which seem to be very unlikely places they would sprout up and grow. Steve Wheen also includes a link to his other website which has all his professional works with producing and other media. He is very interesting. 

 All photos were taken from: http://thepotholegardener.com/
His other website: http://stevewheen.com/

Welcome Reader(s)

My name is Jesus, this is going to be a collection of the random posts for my Journalism class, Writing for the Web. This is my first blog. I'm excited to get this up and running. I'll have new posts every week. Thanks.