Hello Friends.
Can’t say that I’m a fan of the Twitter. It just seems like a lazy method to express useless information on the internet. At least when I express useless information, I do it in paragraphs. But that might be the problem.
Recently, I pitched Big City James to a larger outlet, hoping they would publish it. It was rejected, with the criticism, “We like your writing, but there’s just way too many words.” A bit contradictory, but I get it. I look at other people’s blogs and their monumental, flowery paragraphs and I just think, “Good gad, I’ll wait until they make a movie of this.” I look at my own past entries and think, “Oh stop it, James!” And if I find it hard to slog through essays all about myself, I can only imagine the difficulties other people must have. If Jesus were alive today and someone were to hand him a Bible, I bet even he’d get halfway through and go, “Can we put some pictures in here or something? Or like a sudoku? Because my Dad, this is daunting!”
This brings me to Kelly Oxford, a very nice mother of three from Calgary that I’m insanely jealous of. She has a Twitter account that effing exploded over all the world. One day she start putting her short witticisms on there and she’s now fawned over by her celebrity fans and 66,000 other followers. Jhoni Marchinko, a tv writer from Will & Grace and Murphy Brown (who won’t accept my Facebook friend request) likes her so much that she’s helping develop a television pilot based on her life that’s just been picked up by CBS. What? From Twitter?
I just don’t get it. All the tweets I’ve twobserved are inside jokes so far inside that I can’t possibly appreciate them. Or else they’re just mundane stuff the Tweeter did that day. “OMG Starbucks soy lattes did sum1 say double-shot? Lololol” Stop it. And everyone has Twitter now, even major news outlets, but those tweets somehow come off exactly the same “OMG House Majority Leader John Boehner? Lololol!” Where did you get your journalism degree, the food court of a mall? But if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em. I’m not about to get
Twitter, but I’m always looking for more Followers, which leads me to today’s Dream.
Dream: Be funny, informative, and insightful, but do it quickly.
Goal: Achievable. Often the best joke takes the shortest time. Jim Carrey hosted Saturday Night Live this past weekend, and he was okay. He’s always a little too manic for me, but I get why he’s so popular. But the funniest moment of the evening by far was a tiny segment within a sketch where a woman named Triangle Sally played her one and only hit, “I Have A Triangle” (Link here, I’ll wait: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SrGJ8UyEkBw) That’s a lot of laughter I got out of fifteen seconds of footage (I don’t even count the joke at the end). Or every Christmas, in addition to giving the best gifts, my brother always labels mine with an incorrect spelling of my name, like we’ve only met once and he can’t remember me. In years past I’ve gotten gifts from him addressed to “Jimmel Stimerson” or “Jaleel Ozone.” I laughed pretty hard this year when I got his present addressed to “Julup Ninecourse.” So, brief witticisms are achievable, even though I’ve spent the last five lengthy paragraphs yammering on about it.
Plan: Compile a list of humourous, helpful, or relevant observations that could be used as potential tweets. Such as:
The words “Avril” and “Lavigne” translate in French as “terrible music.”
When it comes to eggs, best to eat them when they’re really fresh. But it’s so hard to get the chicken to squat
over a piece of toast.
If Queen Latifah married Larry King, she’d be Queen King. And still insufferable.
If Yoko Ono married Sonny Bono, she’d have been twice widowed by musicians.
How come some people can walk through blowing snow with their face all normal and
and I get this hideous snow-face and look all X( ?There used to be this tv show called Early Edition where this guy got his newspaper one day earlier than the rest of the world. The premise was, with this slight glimpse into the future, he could avert potential disasters (like plane crashes and terrorist attacks and stuff). That’s great power, with a major downside: can you imagine having to read the whole goddamn newspaper every day?
“Baby, It’s Cold Outside” is one of the few Christmas songs about rape.
The upside of being both blind and deaf would be that you could spend your entire life unaware of Queen Latifah.
1 in 2 smokers will die from the habit. That statistic must be comforting to 1 in 2 smokers because then they don’t have to worry about AIDS or car crashes getting ‘em.
The guy who works in the dildo store is a real pain in the ass.
TV chef Jamie Oliver named his son Buddy Bear. What a cute baby name! But what if he goes into finance? “A 1.4 million dollar deficit! How can we increase capital gains this quarter? Anyone? Anyone? Buddy Bear?”
If Penelope Cruz married Tom Cruise she’d most likely be miserable.
Old people would wear pants up to their necks if they could.
They say when you lose your sense of smell you develop a heightened sense of irony.
Dan Rather and his brother Don Rather inspired the very first game of “Who Would You Rather”?
The toe that’s right beside your baby toe is completely useless.
Hall and Oates met in a hallway eating some oats.
All right, that’s all I got. Useless, right? My time surely could have been better spent watching tv, or going to Starbucks, or visiting the bathroom, but I suppose even then I would have felt pressure to Twitter my activities, and who’d be interested in that? Anyone? Anyone? Buddy Bear?
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