GRAPHICS! 2010!

I've decided to make my blog more catchy with graphics that I create. I'm am debuting this one tonight. I don't even know what it is, but it's colorful.

Yay! Colors! Look for this graphic to head up all of my future shanghaied personal life posts from here on out.

Here's your one chance fancy, don't let me down.

Shanghaied personal life update!

Apparently I have little faith in my dear friend and she is, indeed, going through with it. As a preemptive strike of sorts, I went to myspace to do a little window shopping and see what I was going to be up against.

I set up a local area search to a 50 mile radius and what I found was kind of disheartening. Holy shit. What came up looked like extras in the cast of "Precious." I can just imagine saying the phrase, "I don't mind stealing this bucket of chicken, but can we at least run to somewhere safe before we start eating it?"

Now, don't get me wrong. I love women of every shape, size and color...to a point. There is a difference between being a beautiful woman of larger proportion and well...Precious. We will name our child Mongo.

I'm having to put the book on hold a bit so I can write a term paper. With all that I write, you would think that my writing would start to get better.

Otter blog 2010: Now with new posts!

"It's like some kind of hot tub time machine..."

So, a friend of mine is convinced that I need a MySpace profile to start meeting girls. My response to this was, "What is this, the year 2002?" However, while it is true that MySpace is currently only inhabited by pedophiles and people who are completely socially inept, I was intrigued by the concept. Do you know what I did? I fucking laid down the triple dog dare. While my friend has had a history of being totally impulsive, I don't believe that she has the guts to carry out this little plan of hers to shanghai my personal life. I guess we'll find out though.

This all came about as a result of my recent, abject failure at trying to score dates on OKCupid (apparently, my dear friend believes I'm doing something wrong, while I still contend that crazy comes with ovaries). If you all remember, I originally signed up with OKCupid as a bit of a social experiment. I considered myself to be not unlike an anthropologist living among some kind of pygmy tribe in the middle of Papua New Guinea. I would infiltrate, covertly, find out what makes online daters tick, and, I don't know, write a paper on it or exploit it or something. The problem became, however, that I...not unlike the earlier mentioned anthropologist would do, I went native.

It's hard enough being busy but it's even more difficult trying to date busy; the more I looked in to it, I went further and further down the rabbit hole. Practically over night I turned from troll to Rico Suave. I chatted up a few broads and, in hindsight, maybe calling them broads wasn't such a good idea. One girl that I had been chatting up for a while went so far as to delete her profile when I asked her to a real world dinner. Maybe she just doesn't like Thai food. The only real thing that I could even consider a semi-success ended in what can only be described as tragedy, but that's a story for the book and you're not getting it for free. It's, Tat least, $7.29 worth of funny.

Now, as often happens, failure has given rise to desperation. Which led me to giving my friend control of a MySpace me. I keep trying to tell her that things are different for girls than for guys and it is far less likely for a dude to have immediate success.

Basically, it's like this: a lock has many uses. It can protect valuables, it can keep unwanted people out of a room, it can keep people IN a room, and what not. A key, on the other hand, only has one use: to lock/unlock the lock. Women have the lock, and guys...well, guys have the key (if you catch what I'm throwing). Without the lock, that key is pretty useless which is why we going around erm...uh...trying out locks. This analogy is now long, drawn out, and no longer makes sense. Basically, what I'm saying is, any port in the storm.

I'm probably making a grave error handing over this kind of power to my dear friend, no matter what I think about her gumption. But, you know, unless I show up at something she sets up for me only to have Chris Hansen to tell me to "Have a seat right there." then maybe, just maybe, things will be ok. Maybe we'll run across some kind of late adopter who is years behind the times who is attractive, intelligent, and has some kind of sense of humor. Maybe, but probably not. I feel like I'm ultimately going to be vindicated as being the one who was right all along. I only hope that I don't have to end up before a judge in the process.

I realize this post wasn't really "funny" but it's a starting point. I got a feeling that this is going to lead to some humor of a championship caliber. If I'm not murdered by the "MySpace serial killer" I'll keep you posted.

I like having the blog back.

On Twitter and How Much I Hate John Mayer

A lot of different technologies have come and gone since I stopped updating this blog the last time about 4 years ago. One, however, that I see standing the test of time, for at least the next six months, is the baby blue behemoth known as Twitter.

Where else on the entire internet can real celebrities, fake celebrities, and non celebrities become internet celebrities, not unlike your blog host and online travel guide here. The best part, however, is that Twitter takes the dividers out of the internet bento box (color: pinku) and gives each of these different levels of celebrity direct @access.

Case in point, those who know me know that I have a long standing hatred of one John Mayer. While I believe that he is talented and performs his craft very well, I find him to otherwise be a complete and total douche firetruck (my latest, favorite, conveyance of douche). Now, if I ever want to put him on blast, all I have to do is type @JohnCMayer and I have another 129 characters of total shit talk to put him on blast. It's like a digital version on gleeking on the back of the dude's neck in algebra class.

Now, I realize that John Mayer could not possibly care one iota about what some chump from North Carolina has to say about his vampire looking ass. He's probably way too busy having sex with all sorts of beautiful women that he doesn't love to even try to give a damn about your boy, M_C here. However, that's the beauty of it. I'm like some middle eastern kid chucking rocks at tanks. It never really does any damage, but I'm just a kid so I'm also just left alone. However, I keep doing it on the off chance that, one day, an American GI pops his head out the hatch and I stick him right in the eye. Maybe one day, John Mayer will take a break from a marathon fellatio session, sit down at his computer desk wiping pubic hair off of his chin, and one of my barbs will hit him right in the old pride.

Besides hate, twitter can be used as an avenue for other things, like advertising. I, for one, was completely sold after Ashton Kutcher advertised for Demi Moore's ass on twitter. The next day, vasoline and kleenex stock rose three points.

In conclusion, I like Twitter and, as far as I'm concerned, the bird will be the word for a long time to come.

You can follow me through the link on the right of this page.

Hey, yeah, wow, I'm finally writing that book.

About a week ago, I finally started writing that book I always promised that I would write. Currently, I'm on about word 4000(roughly sixteen pages). Not much work done yet, but slowly and surely I'm getting there. A lot of my past blog stories, reworked, punched up with more jokes/life lessons and some other stories that I have never previously written down, done in a way that only I can do.

As a companion to my book writing process, and as a source of catharsis, I decided to reopen the old blog. Good times and here we go.