End of a good Filler arc

A "filler" describes moments in a series designed to waste time to fit a production schedule. It's used most commonly in Anime--Japanese animation. Most anime's are based off of Manga (Japanese comics). When a story in a manga gets popular, it gets bought by a company and turned into an anime. Once an anime "catches up" with the manga, the anime studio will create Filler arcs which take the story off its main course for weeks, sometimes even years, until there is an obvious distance between the manga and anime. In some animes, characters gain one-time-only special abilities. For example, Sailor Jupiter learned an awesome electric attack in a filler arc and it never showed up again, despite being awesome. Once the Filler arc is over, the characters return to their core plot of a series and the fans--the ones who could tolerate 30-100+ episodes or chapters--rejoice in seeing their favorite comic books/anime/manga back in their natural element.

I like  love metaphors--they let me draw parallels to things that others might not see a similarity  to. If I had to compare filler arcs in an anime to the past 6 post-undergrad months at work in my hometown, I would, but I really can't. The past six months resembles an anime filler arc. I mean, I learned a bunch of techniques I'll never use again: working in retail, certification in CPR, etc. Not to mention, I did veer off from the main "Get back to Japan" plot into a "work as an RA for a year" arc which lead into another "save up for your ticket to Japan" arc, AKA "work in retail and at a YMCA" arc. But, unlike anime, these Filler arcs were some of the most important moments of my whole life--and no anime fan has ever said "The filler was better than the series" (unless they're hipsters in disguise).

Now that it's certain I'm going to be all up in Japan again, I've reviewed the past 6 months since I left there and I'm finding it hard to say what was "filler" and what wasn't. Sure, there we're times I thought "I'm totally not gonna miss this" whenever a kid at the YMCA made a fart sound while I was talking and there were times I thought "won't miss this, either" whenever I had to awkwardly disassemble or undress a feminine mannequin. With that, though, comes a wave of things I am going to miss. I'm going to miss  my haste walk into Sci-fi City to pick up weekly comics, long drives to mom's house listening to Modest Mouse, Kendrick Lamar and Pink Floyd, meeting some of the most important children I'll ever meet, teaching them to play chess, learning that referencing any Pokemon from my generation makes me "old," eating at Scott's Place: home of the Big C burger, recording videos impulsively with loved ones, loved ones, loved ones etc.

In a lot of ways, it was the past few months that made me realize why I'm going back to Japan. I have the most supportive cast of characters that have been loyal throughout the series--even the fillers. They have invested and expect me to show that their investment was a worthy one. My career in Japan started off as my own but now its about us. Its about how I can make a difference and how I can be part of someone else's supportive cast of characters. So to anyone who feels like they have been deferred from their main plot, their grand adventure and have acquired new techniques, had pointless encounters with people that may never be seen again, been over-exposed to mundane themes, I say, it's only filler if you aren't writing the series. If you are the author of your life, you'll make it work.

And as I pack my luggage while writing this last sentence, I realized I've over packed. One for clothes, the other for books and the last one is filled with fun.

Thanks for reading. Catch me here.

Villainy.

(Top?) 5 things I have lied about in the past 23 years.

In the spirit of NoSafeNovember, I thought I would list things that I am not safe for hiding from the public (aka my pals).  Thus, I have decided to end this year's #NoSafeNovember by calling myself out on my own shit. That's right: Open season on me. Here are my top 5 things I've lied about my whole life and have picked now to confess about them.

5.There are very few Final Fantasy games I've beaten without "cheating."

Listen, folks. I am NOT a gamer nor have I ever claimed to be. In fact, if asked, I would say "no, I am not. I  do play games but not often." That, I have never lied about. "Gamer" is a fully time job and requires finance I just don't have.  Some people assume that I am a gamer just because I am all up in Japanese pop culture--I watched anime, read manga and played through Final Fantasy. Oh wait... about that. Yes, I have told the masses I have played FF 7,8 and 9. And I have. No lie. However, completing the games in a consistent go is something I rarely do. But WAIT! Let me explain. I have a brother only one year younger than me who I (was forced to) share(d) everything with--not limited to memory cards, games, clothes, cds, rooms etc. So, as if cued, my brother would get the urge to delete memory to free up months of space for games he'd only play once. This was almost always right before I fought the final boss or made it more than 3/4 of the game. Imagine how monotonous it is to retrain Chocobos, dodge lightning bolts, go through mazes, click through dialogue, rewatch Yuffie be dumb, Squall be emo, Zidane be awkward and Selphie be useless. Mind you, I am not talking about replaying a game for nostalgia. I mean putting that damn movie right back into the DVD player and watching it all again. But instead of a movie, its a 40+ hour game. Plus, you already know all the spoilers, plot developments and cinematic moments. So, I would just ask my cousin if I could copy his memory to my memory card and start from where he left off. Except, by that time, I lost motivation. Not to mention I--and everyone else on the whole internet that grew up in the late 90s early 00s--know the entire script to those games. Seriously, I could tell you what happened from 7-9 without skipping a beat, including the ending... So N'yeah!


Tell me one thing she did that rocked and I'll apologize.

4. I Loved Sailor Moon as a kid, but not for the reason I lied to you about...

If you and I have had this conversation, it went like this: "Yeah, I loved that show's animation. It introduced me to Japanese animation. I didn't see any other cartoon with that kind of animation. It was so unique for me at the time." None of that is a lie. It was different from anything I was watching at the time. But, the real reason I liked it was because I was an 8 year old boy who loved to see those Sailor Scouts kick some ass and enjoyed the romantic themes just as much. No, not second to the action.: JUST AS FUCKING MUCH. Equal, I tell you! Equal! Of course now, after growing up and being introduced to taste, I can honestly admit it is trash. Cute, but trash. But I am going to be honest, they've announced a remake of the series and I will most definitely give it a chance. My only two request is that it better not have nearly as many unlikable characters as the original or be nearly as stereotypical. In other words, it better be a different show.

In the name of the moon, be less of a brat.

3. I dig Alan Moore but...

I don't really enjoy some of his works quite like the rest of the world. For those who don't know who he is, he is the God of creation everything comic books. You may have heard of the films V for Vendetta, League of Extrodinary Gentlemen and Watchmen. I really do like his works, but that's the problem: I like  them while the world loves him. People foam at the god damn mouth when you don't shower this man in your body juices after you have had a Moore-experience. I know someone will cry when they read the following truth: I've never gotten the oh-so holy erection while reading his flawless, divine, timeless, epic, hair-raising, life-changing, stories. I saw V for Vendetta when I was a high school student and loved it. I didn't know it was a comic book first until I went to college and read it. But something very peculiar happened when I read the comic book: I read it like a comic book and not like the ancient Rossetta Stone. When I discussed this with the Alan Moore fart collectors--I mean, Alan Moore fans--I realized my reading experience differed from there's greatly. I talked about it without crying and I said "I liked it." Oh boy was I the black guy at a Tea Party protest. They asked me if I noticed the theme of "5" hidden throughout the comic. No, I didn't notice that. I was too busy counting up all the fucks I never gave about those details. (Note: there were a total of FIVE fucks I never gave if anyone's curious.) Later, I read Watchmen--a comic I liked more than V for Vendetta because it was of the Superhero genre. However, I made the neanderthal mistake of reading this comic book like a comic book too. At the end of each issue, there was an article (essay) that contained extra back story to events that happened before the story. Here's my question: Why not just stop the self-indulgent bull and just put it in the story? They almost laughed me out of the room with a statement like that. I can hear it now "put a story inside the story? Like a regular old story? Psh... you're not an intellectual reader." Guess what, since I am in a good mood am just gonna break every Moore laprider's heart by revealing a bonus lie: I skipped RIGHT the fuck over those extra articles. I figured if it wasn't worth putting within the story, then it ain't worth reading. Fuck your argument. Moving on.

2. Jay-Z is fantastic but...

I don't think his older material is his "better" material as I have put on. Mind you, this isn't a lie I've told often or recently. In fact, it's something I realized about year ago when Watch The Throne came out. Now, I am not going to say the Reasonable Doubt--Jay-z's first album--is not a great album. I won't say it cause I love it too much. But, its a boring album to recommend for someone who doesn't appreciate lyrics over production. Not only that album either, but every album before Blueprint. Seriously, folks. I'm standing by it. I appreciate that older stuff because its an acquired taste. But ask me which albums do I listen to the most when I get in a Jay-z mood and I will name his most recent albums (minus Kingdom Come. Oh god, what a disappointment). Also, take in consideration that I have changed a lot since middle school and so has his music. For example, I  am old and lame now and can barely tolerate the word "faggot," most forms of misogyny and gang violence which are concepts thoroughly explored in his earlier music than anything Post-Beyonce (thank god for that). Not to mention Kanye West becoming his #1 producer for a number of the latter albums (thank god for that too). And let's be honest, Watch The Throne got me crunker than most other Jay-z albums. Ever. Cringe and deal with it. DEAL WITH IT!



^Yes, this happened. Unacceptable.

1. I tear up easily during movies, music, novels, comics, conversations, aw hell just about everything.

Now don't get all excited and start shouting rude things at me in hopes that I break down like a little Baby McCry Cry. Because it's not gonna happen. For some reason, its only stories that make me do this. For example, remember hearing about the controversy surrounding Marvel comics about killing off Peter Parker in the Ultimate storyline?  Well, in that link I just left is a video. Watch all of it. If you didn't cry you're way better than me. Cause I did. But, again, it only happens when I experience through a story. For instance, I can sit at a funeral of someone I love and be very very depressed. But not a moment before someone speaks about a funny incident or an inspirational action said person did before passing away do I start letting Niagra fall down my face. But it gets even better. Crying out of sadness is a lot harder than cry out of joy. I am almost always going to cry if I hear about or experience first hand a touching moment between folks. And I won't even cover my eyes in shame. I will just cry while you get your kicks in telling some bullshit tale you pulled out of your ass. But take heed: Execution is the key. You can't just be like "Hey man, I saw a 3 legged puppy and I just thought you should know about it" and expect me to break down in some crowded area. Hell no. Work for my tears! But now that I've told you, I'm going to expecting it. So N'yeah!


I'm done for now. I had fun with this one.

The Last Key Stroke

I had never hit the period button so hard in my life. At the same time, it had never been so difficult to press it. It felt like every fan, naysayer and Internet troll had joined together underneath the period button in effort to prevent fate. Unfortunately, being the writer of the series, the God of the world of "Time Travelling Salesgirl," I felt that the future could wait no longer. It waited for one and a half decades, from the end of my last year in grad school, through my first years working freelance in the comic book industry, a two-seasoned animated series--one that watered down the comic series to fit a younger audience--all the way to the end of my brief marriage with Coretta. A result that served as the last nail in the coffin for "Time Travelling Salesgirl." I made the ending a direct reflection of my experience and aimed to make someone, everyone, feel as I bitter as I felt. 

When I first started out, I told myself I would never be the writer that is a slave to the fans or a slave to myself. I wanted to tell a story. A real story. I pretended that a story was something divine and not of this world. It flew around the universe looking for a way to enter our realm from the fictional one. Once finding the appropriate storyteller--one who was focused and passionate enough to tell it--it would enter his or her brain and host them until the story was conveyed in the perfect manner. It was a writer's job to be inspired by emotion, not dictated by them. Yet, I broke my own rule and didn't care. My life was in shambles at the time. I just hit the period button, clicked the 'Send' button and went to bed in a bitter happiness. The kind of happiness a boxer gets after he steals an illegal jab from the victor. Only the victor was the universe around me. I smiled all night. A smile with tears for comrades. I didn't think once of the future that night. I basked in the bowels of depression, self-pity, misanthropy and single-mindedness. All was enemy.

That night, I dreamed every issue I had written of "The Time Travelling Salesgirl." My favorite, and most controversial issue, was when Diana, the salesgirl, Time Traveled back to Nazi Germany, early March in 1945--close to the date the last pages of Anne Frank's diary were written--and sold Anne Frank an M-16, hours before being discovered by the Germans. The only cost Diane charged was the pen she used for her diary. Not a day after that issue had hit the stands, I was invited for an interview at CNN. I went and was grilled alive and praised high at the same time by two political commentators. Sure, I knew there would be some that were offended by the content of the issue, but I was young and radical as college students are. I dreamed about my least favorite issue that night too. It was during the early 2000s when our sales were dropping to a low we hadn't reached in years. My Editor in Chief suggested we give Diana an anti-hero love interest. It resulted in making Diana a stupid romantic. I swear we made her cry in like every other issue. My wife complained to me just about every morning about change, calling my editor a "sexist cunt" and cited the change as a reason why he was single. Eventually when we sold more comics again, I killed that bastard off in the most absurd way imaginable and make a point to rarely reference him in the issues after his death. "Fuck 'em" my wife would sarcastically say whenever he was even loosely mentioned. 

In a lot of ways, Coretta was my biggest fan and harshest critic of the series. Sometimes, I would get paranoid that she was the one sending me hatemail when I did something to a character that was unfavorable. If you were to read any issues I put out before I met Coretta and afterwards, you'd notice subtle changes in Diana's behavior. When I met and feel in love with Coretta, I begin basing Diana--the love of the first love of my life--off Coretta. Interestingly enough, that marked to significant influx in comic sales. It marked the era in which Diana's presence had left the pages of a comic and landed on the back of every backpack, laptop carrying case and college hipster T-shirt in the US. Some called it selling out, I called it a proclamation of my love for my wife. 

It wasn't until the dead of that night I realized how important the series was to me and what I had just done to my wife's legacy and the message I sent to my fans. I had just murdered Diana out of spite for my wife's loss in her war with breast cancer. Diana's death was premature. Even as I walked away from the computer that night after sending that script to the editor, I thought of dozens of plots. Great plots. A story was contacting me from the realm of fiction. It chose me to host and I said "No. You will not enter this world because I am a bitter, bitter man." Coretta was still alive in that realm, breathing into me more ways to keep her relevant but I was so blinded my emotion to see it. This is a world the fans flee to to avoid the harsher realities of death and disease. Who was I to punish them for what they were already experiencing? I bet thousands of them were going through similar things and there I was slapping them in the face saying "you won't escape it. You have to feel what I feel." Then, the greatest epiphany hit me: The series was no longer mine. It was everyone's. And I would no longer stand in the way of it. That morning, at 5:00 am, I panicked. I immediately sent an apology to my editor-in-chief for the negative piece of shit I just sent a few hours prior. After I typed the e-mail, I sat up for the remainder of the morning, drinking coffee and watching "The Time-Traveling Salesgirl" cartoon series, sobbing softly. It was the first time I had attacked reality head one. Coretta was gone, I'm alive.  Diana was on life support until I got a reply telling me to rewrite the script.

When I had awoken from dozing off, it was mid-day. I had 11 missed calls. Each from the editor, Sam.He was one of my greatest friends in the industry and was the person that got me my job as a writer under his editorship. I didn't bother checking the messages and immediately called him back. He answered after the first ring. Before I could even speak, he told me that he had cried all morning over, what he called, "the greatest script in the industry." Before I could protest about not publishing that script, he told me repeatedly that he was sorry for my recent loss and understood its influence on the ending. Then, went into detail about what "made the script work." He told me the idea that Diana the Time Travelling Salesgirl dying of cancer would appeal to readers who grew up with the comic, since it had run for more than 15 years. He said that readers that began reading it in their teens are now well into adulthood and most likely faced such a serious issue or had cancer to. He paused and talked about how genius it was that the time travelling had caused cancerous cells. But what touched him the most is how Diana chose to deal with it. He called it "perfectly human." At first, he cited how he initially hated how emotional Diana the Salesgirl gets when she realizes she is dying and breaks the rules of set for the series by travelling past the time she exist in hopes of finding the cure in the future. He said that it made her seem too human which then he realized that its a reasonable reaction because she is a human and should be fairly held to those standards. Next, he stated that he loved that instead of trying to fight back against her fate after finding no cure, she vows to travel through time until it is her time to  pass. He told me that the script has been already sent to be penciled and colored.

After hearing all of this, I cried aloud. A big, universe shaking cry. A sight that J. Alfred Prufrock would envy. I heard Sam trying yelling over my sobbing. He asked what was wrong, he said he'd fly over if he had to. He warned me not to do anything stupid. He promised to call back the script. He threatened to call the police if I didn't calm down. He started crying too out of fear I was about to hurt myself. Finally, once I had started to calm down I told him that I can't end the series because it meant to much to me, to Coretta, to the world. I reintroduced my philosophy of realms of fiction which he had heard numerous times but was such a good friend he pretended it was brand new. The whole ordeal was the emotional release I needed to push me to the next step of moving on with my life.

A few months later, the issue had been released and I was back on CNN for the first time since grad school. It was a lot more pleasant and sympathetic since most of the world that followed the series knew what I had been going through. Of course, I received the usual death threats and hatemail but I just told myself it was Coretta, mocking and loving me from beyond the grave. Since the series had ended, I have been contacted by stories from the other realms begging to be written. I promise them life by writing scripts and sending them to the television series which has gone its own way from the comic's storyline as a way to pay my respects. I will never forget Coretta and I will always keep her alive. Long live Diana.

Stop Snitching...no matter how cute it is.

One of the worst things you could tell me when I Was a kid was "stop tattle telling." Why? Because when I was a kid and demanded justice for being wronged by someone else, it made me crazy. Now that I'm grown and deal with children all the time, it makes me crazy when 20+ kids all had an act of injustice and demand me to right the wrongs. It doesn't matter what I'm doing, what they have to say is far more important. Hell, I could be in the middle of performing a billion dollar six-hour surgery on someone really fucking important and they would barge in and shout "ooooh! Mr. Timothy! Carson punched me!" But guess what? Carson didn't punch you, did he? He touched your shoulder to taunt you and you want him to be in trouble so you exaggerate. Hyperbole senses are always tingling at the place. Never believe anything anyone says ever about anything because it never really happened or only "kinda" did but not really. But, man, is it cute.

Prime example:

"Oooooh! Mr. Timothy! Greg said 'Pysies'"

"...Okay, what does that mean?"

"I don't know, but he said it!"


That kind of snitching happens more than 10 times a day. Like, hold the fuck up! That kid is doing something I've never seen before. I'm telling Timothy right now at max volume while tugging his shirt, jeans and maybe poking his ass to get this man's attention. Naw, naw, naw! This here is important Mr. Timothy. If you don't fix this shit right now or I might be confused for like a whole minute.

Oh, and let a kid say the word "booty." I swear to good they will stampede like the first snitch gets a prize from Mr. Timothy. The worst part about it is that they all wanna snitch first and say it and the same time. What sucks is that some kids run and talk faster than others and at various volumes. So what sounds like "Hey, Mr. Timothy, he said 'booty' to me" to them, sounds like

" ooooh BOOTY! Mr. Timothy......Bootty. booooooooooooootyy HE SAid....Booty Boottyyyyyy Mr. Timothy
oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooBootttttttttttyyyyMMMMMMMMMMmmmmmmmmmmmmmmr. Tiiiiiiiiimothboootyy oooooooooooooooooooooAnd then he said boooty. ....Mr. Timothy

Mr. Timothy...Booty!                He said...... Ooooohhh Mr. Booty!! He said booty Mr. Timothy
                                        BOOTY ooooH! MR. BOOTY SAID 'TIMOTHY"


Oh my God. Do you know how scary that shit can be? You turn around, 7 kids are shouting booty and running towards yours! Then, when you finally get a full understanding of what's going on, you go "Guys, really? Is it that big o' deal?" But it is. It is a big deal because they're kids and you're an adult. Your biggest deal is car troubles, phone bills, unemployment, etc. Their big deals are Pokemon cards, How to draw Sonic the Hedgehog the right way and bad words. Finally, I broke

"Hey! New Rules: No more tattle telling! No more Snitching!"

Its official. I'm grown.

Villainy.

A week in review: Kids

This week will be remembered for its wide variation of emotions. Having been only two weeks after I graduated college, I landed a job--a very unboring one. I work at an elementary school in an after school program called Child Care. From 2 til 6 I supervise about 20 kids between the ages of 5-12. This job has very little to do with my major which is not a surprise because my major was English Literature. However, the job has given me a lot of interesting experiences and created a lot of stories. Also, I have learned to respond to "Hey, Mr. Timothy!" Thank God they don't say "Mr. Anderson" because that inspires that joke. You know the one....the one.

Unfortunately, that was the only positive experience I had this past week. Most of the  negativity of this week are things that I can't really go into on this blog due to privacy. So, I'll allow you to make something up. If you are not feeling creative or imaginative, I will provide a clip that will serve as a kind of "interpretative dance" to for you to decode the meaning.



Did ya catch it? Good.

The job never has a dull moment which is both a good thing and a bad thing. If you are not paying attention for a second, a child could do something dangerous. It sounds a bit extreme but its totally true. And if you don't believe me, you should take the 10 hours of online training we were all taking that showed us real security camera footage of kids who wondered off somewhere and got crushed by various large objects they thought it would be totally awesome to climb. If that doesn't terrify you, you're better than I. That shit made me wanna quit before I started. By the end of the 10 hour modules, one thing is understood: All kids will be raped, drowned, beaten and killed if you do not pay attention for only a split hair of a second.

On my first day, I tried my hardest to leave a good impression. Oddly enough it was easy. They loved me instantly. The only problem was...the feeling was kinda not mutual. Don't get me wrong, I have a soft spot for kids. I do. It's covered in barbwire but its there. I promise. My problem is that my soft spot for kids is not affected by their cuteness factor or any other adorable qualities, its more motivated by trying to keep them safe, alive and molding their morality. I really, really don't want anything bad to happen to this kids more than I care if they have fun or not... I know that sounds bad, but you try prioritizing "fun" with a bunch of kids varying in socio-economic backgrounds for just one day and see what happens. On the first day, I had already put 3 in time out and called a parent. It was amazing. I was all over that shit. I have absolutely no problem with the kids hating me as long as they are alive, safe and learning, I'm good. But, again, no matter how mean or strict I am, they still like me--which is another issue.

Since the kids like you no matter what, they quote you no matter what. They tell their parents about you no matter what. So, if I mumble "fuck these little assholes" under my breath...

I'll give you a real life example. During Quiet Time a kid thought it would be hilarious if he parodied  C & C Music Factory's "Gonna Make You Sweat," by changing the widely recognized lyrics "Everybody Dance Now!" to "Everybody Fart Now." Before I lost the children to fart-crazed chaos, I interrupted the laughter with "No, Nobody farts now." And man, did that back fire. They thought it was even more funny than the initial fart joke. From that point on, they repeated that for the rest of the day

"No, Nobody farts now."

"No, Nobody farts now."

Another funny incident includes someone I like to call "Michael Jackson Kid." When I first met him he introduced himself, grabbed his crotch and made a sound that resembled Michael Jackson. It was "he-hee!"  I held my gut in laughter because I thought he was some kind of genius. I mean, if I would have thought of that as a kid--to introduce myself, grab my junk, point vaguely to some direction and say "he-heee"--I would have been proud. However, what I learned about this kid is that he did it ALL the time. He did it when it made that absolute least amount of sense--not that there is a time in which it ever makes sense. MJ Kid did not know what the weather was like so he asked me and then did the crotch grabbing thing with the noise and the point. It had lost its charm. I made him quit.


All in all, it was a damn good week.

Childish Villainy.

The Inspirational Urine Specialist

After my graduation last week, I returned to Knoxville to find a job. You know, those things that are really tricky to find, especially with a vague degree such as English Literature--I have no regrets. I found one pretty quickly--an interesting one to say the least. The interview went fantastically and I am very excited about the position. However, my boss gave me a vast amount of paper work to fill out. The kind of paper work the requires me to run a billion Zelda-like errands to achieve very little. Like, "Hey, Tim. In order for me to validate these references, I'll need a new pen because this one has run out of ink. But I need a special kind of ink. The blood of a dragon should do fine. There is a dragon about 4000 years into the past. You can use this time machine to get there, but in order to slay the dragon, you'll need to get the Dragon-Slaying Sword which is in a whale's mouth at the bottom of the Pacific ocean. You'll need a submarine. Contact the military! They'll have one, but first you'll need to earn their trust by signing up and doing at least 5 years of service..."

I trust you get the idea...

The first errand I had to run was on the other side of Knoxville to a place called "Going Postal," which is where I would get my fingerprints. It was a 45 minute drive in 90 degree weather in faulty AC (which is the poorman's way of saying "hot air blowing air conditioning."). The post office was located obscurely off the side of a road and was an eye sore.  After I got the prints, I drove to my next destination which was about 25 more minutes of speeding up and promptly slowing down. When I finally found the drug testing center, I was 5 degrees hotter than I had been 25 minutes earlier. When I found the joint, it too was oddly located. Its like these places are not meant to be found. It was down a long back-road, filled with apartment complexes and small businesses. I parked and dashed into the air conditioned--I always assume any places is cooler than my car.

When my name was called to piss in the cup, I went down the hall and met the most inspirational pee doctor that has ever existed. This man was passionate about his interactions with is pissers.

"Why, hello, Timothy. Could you please stand to my right and place all of your things in the drawer. You may keep your wallet. Thanks you for understanding."

"oh, uh. Sure."

After I placed all of my things in the drawer he handed me a cup to piss into. He asked gracefully:

"If you don't mind Tim, I need you to fill it at least to the line. If you could do that, I would really appreciate it. And please, don't flush the toilet. Thanks again, Timothy.

"No problem sir"

When I was in the bathroom and not right in front of him, I pissed into the cup and filled it all the way up. It had a cap on it so I didn't have to walk like I had just gotten a cup of hot coffee filled to the rim and had to balance it without spilling it as I would make my way to my seat. No sir. None of that. However, I was paranoid that someone would accidentally bump me while running around the corner, causing me to drop it and look pretty stupid. But that didn't happen at all. I was worried that I peed too much into the cup since it was well past the line marked on it.

"Hey, I pissed Urinated into the cup but well over the line, I hope that doesn't complicate things," I said nicely. In hindsight, I don't know why I was worried about that. What could he have done I don't know what he would have done if it did complicate things? Splashed it in my eyes? Made me drink it? Rub my face in it? I digress.

"Oh, Timothy. It's perfectly fine. I am just glad you did what you thought was right. There are no problems here and is not a big deal at all. Now, if you could, would you wait here for just a few minutes while I test your sample and let you upon your way?"

I held back my chuckle at this man's infinite kindness and responded:

"Sure thing, sir. Thanks."

Once it was done, it was sent to the county and my quest of employment was over.

What a nice pee doctor.

10 Things you are not clever for noticing

Oh the thrill of knowing stuff about things. The moment we know, we grow...our egos that is. There is something oh so alluring about knowing more than another. Moreover, knowing something that no one else has noticed gives us that clever edge. We are all guilty of it! We all wanna be interesting, witty and funny (oh you know I'm all about wanting to be funny). However, quipness is like health care (until, perhaps, recently): only some people can have it and others just die trying to get it. Here is my list of things we all think we are clever for noticing but aren't.

1. Season 1's Yellow and Black Rangers

Yes. The black ranger was an African American and the Yellow Ranger was Asian American. Now when you get around your hipster friends that have the eternal boner for the 90s because, well, they have only been around for about 20 years and have nothing else to nostalgia-come over, just remember: EVERYBODY KNOWS

2. Bush and Dick

It's true. Dick Cheney's name has a massive, pulsating "dick" in it...Do you see it? Also, George W. Bush has "bush" in his name. You don't get it yet? Well, yeah, bush could be shrubbery but it could also be pubic hair! hahahahahahaahahahahahahhahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahhahahahahahahhahahahhahahahahahahahhahahhhaahhahahhahahhahahhahahhahahahhahahhaaha!

God, that's hilarious! The country was ran by a dick and bush for 8 years and only I, me, myself, alone has noticed that. Even with the whole world hating the shit outta these assholes--making pretzel and Halliburton jokes--I was the only one that caught that one. HA!---but seriously folks, that joke is as old as balls and too easy to make. Try harder.

3. Frank Ocean 

I was on Twitter and got into an exchange with G-unit sub member "Johnny Fastlane." He's not really famous or anything. Nor was it a long exchange. It was about Frank Ocean's debut album, "Channel Orange." A few weeks ago, Frank came out of the closet. Then, his first REAL, nonmixtape album came out--no pun intended. So, of course, the internet--especially Johnny Fastlane--got "clever." Johnny Fastlane tweeted: "Ever since Frank Ocean came out, he's been getting more airplay on the radio." The problem is...THIS WAS HIS FIRST ALBUM! HIS OTHER ONES WERE NOT CLEARED BY HIS LABEL SO THEY RECEIVED NO NON-INTERNET AIRPLAY! So, I responded with "Ever since Frank Ocean's album came out, he's been getting more airplay." So, yeah. Y'know: you're not original and whatnot. Oh, and on that note...

4. Adam and Steve

Yes, you are right. The bible does not mention "steve" and you are a skilled rhymer. People live by the ol' "its a saying; therefore, it must be true" philosophy. Oh and if it rhymes, you've got yourself a life-long creed! People love "sayings" because it takes the whole thinking portion out of an argument or retort, simplifying a larger issue down into a depthless nursery rhyme. Say it and just add water and you walk away from an argument champion of...nothing. I have sat in classrooms in which this line was thrown around oh-so smuggly and proudly as if they were the first. But rest assured, there is a clever response: " which means we should kill ever person not named Adam or Eve" and then promptly kill yourself, mentally scarring everyone in the classroom. 

5.Final Fantasy

" Man, its called Final Fantasy but they keep on making games." If you have said this, you have just joined the rest of the population that has said this...which is a lot of fuckin' people. Its got to stop. 

6. Black People and Obama

It would be a lie for me to say that there were not any black people that did not vote for Obama just because he was black. However, it would just as false and prejudice for me to say that most (or even half) of the Black people voted for Obama just because he was black. Here's why its false: Historically speaking, African-American votes tend to be Democratic 88% of the time. And if you are going to continue to ignore the facts, you should also think about Michael Steele--Black republican who awkwardly drops hip-hop references the leave all jaws ajar in embarrassment. If his ol' corny ass ran for president, he would most likely get a very low black vote percentage. Don't even get me started on Herman Cain. But, Why is it prejudice? Think about what you're saying: a whole race of people are so simple that they cannot make a strategic  political decision and thus, resort to voting based on browness. You thought you noticed something groundbreaking: "this color voted for this color and its all so simple!" But all you really did was say something some other uninformed person proudly and spitefully stated when an entire generation celebrated slight, ever-so-very slight progress in 2008.

7. Jesus was Jewish

I have heard so many people shout this at someone in a religious debate and act as if they have just awoken someone from the Matrix. The worst part about it is everyone has access to that info and for the most part knows that information. Usually, when I hear this trivia thrown about, it is used at the wrong time. Sometimes even when the debate is not the ethnicity of Jesus. I fantasize about shouting it myself during a random event. Perhaps the NBA finals. Like, when Miami wins the game I would shout, "Yeah, but Jesus was a Jew! BOOM! Neither of you win! I win the game! Give me my trophy, Bitch!" No, seriously, expect to hear that from me. I will never lose any kind of anything ever again forever. As long as I throw out that tidbit of info, I am forever a champion: Jesus was in fact, a Jew.

8. History and Herstory

Just a small amount of feminism can make any conservative man or woman shake with fear. Immediately, they feel powers shifting. A mention of women's rights and all of the sudden "But what about MEN's right! Women have all the power now!" and then...here it comes... "We aren't even learning about History anymore. Now it's HERstory." And then comes the little giggles and high-fives. Those that heard it, spread it to others and then we all pretend like we have never heard it before. Well, NO MORE, I say. From now on, I am going to be completely ignorant about it. I am going to ask them to explain it. Then spell it. Then say "but what is herstory?" Then, be a dick: "who's story? Where is she now." Then be a cunt about it: "Is there really more herstory than history? If so, give me herstorical names, dates and events. Then I will give you a long list of reasons why you are single--which has no dates or events." Lastly, I'll become my own hypeman and shout "OOOOH SNAP!" and then moonwalk away.

9. Chris Brown Jokes

I hate that I have to put this one up because I absolutely love Chris Brown jokes, because I absolutely hate Chris Brown. Not because he beat Rhianna. I've hated him since high school when had to "start by saying yoooooo!" But since I live by the philosophy "Nobody's safe," I must call myself out and say that sometimes I think I am the only one that notices that Chris Brown has a lot of hit records. Some major heavy hitters. He is constantly beating up the charts with his smash hits. I must say,  that man is talented, but I just can't resist making fun of him and his many big hits. I'm sorry. Its a bad habit.

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he beats women.

lol, okay. I'm done. Its not clever. I know. 

10.Grammar corrections in non-scholarly scenarios.

I am guilty of this, but I really don't like it. Correcting someone's grammar is not a bad thing. Correcting and then feeling wiser for doing so is a bad thing. Why do we feel intellectual and more intelligent  for enforcing a rule of language that has been enforced for centuries? To me, those who get creative with slang, idioms, metaphors and structure are the clever ones. I mean, of course it's important to know how English works. But most people that speak Southern American English, African-American Vernacular English etc. know the rules of the language and choose to speak it their own way. To "school" someone who is talking to you at a bar or cafeteria for using a "double negative" or creating some sort of lexical gap that no one has ever heard of but could start hearing just seems a bit douchey. See? "douchey" had to start from somewhere and is a wonderful word which could have never happened due to some discouraging anglophone. Stephen Fry argues it best. You really aren't being more witty than anyone else by telling someone something everyone already knows. In fact, its kinda dumb.

Quip Villainy