Unsuspecting Oak Forest, Illinois resident Jeremy Hynes was distraught yesterday after his then girlfriend, Karen Duran, fatally wounded his beloved Mortal Kombat character, Sub Zero.
“He said he wanted to spend some time together. I wanted to watch a movie, but he made me play that dumb game,” says former girlfriend Duran. “He freaked out. I don’t know. I just like Kitana because she’s girl.”
Neighbors report the couple exited their house to the front lawn where they proceed to act out the match. The grappling caught the attention of passing police officers. Although no arrests were made, officers did enjoy a mighty battle.
“She was just button mashing. I wanted to prove I could kick her ass in real life,” said Hynes while iced his broken jaw.
Hynes has not been charged, although Duran plans to pursue charges and may attempt the signature “Kiss of Doom” in the courtroom.
We are seeking polished administrative assistants, in other words someone who doesn’t look like they grabbed their clothes off the floor and has never been a guest on the Maury Povich Show. Must have with strong communication skills to be more specific, must be able to listen in English, speaking not required. This is an exciting opportunity for individuals seeking team environment or recent college grads. In other words, we are seeking individuals seeking a team environment or seeking recent college grads. Like I am someone who is seeking a college grad, if you know what I mean, cubicle booty anybody? Or you can create a team of recent college grads in any environment. Environments may vary, but the team part doesn’t. Must be willing to be blamed for managements incompetence. We will ask you to be flexible with your hours, but not return the favor.
Provide administrative and office management tasks- You will handle all the bullshit no one else wants to do.
Create marketing materials- We don’t know what we are saying about our brand. We have no budget and want you, the team of recent college grads, to create flyers using only Microsoft Word and a dot matrix printer. Collages welcomes.
PowerPoint presentations- Must have ideas. We are unclear of what PowerPoint is, but are certain it will revolutionize our sale figures.
Daily administrative support- To reiterate, there is plenty of bullshit with which you will deal.
Prepare, maintain and update excel reports on a regular basis- Upper Management is certain they need these reports. It is unclear whether or not they are read, but we have to have the numbers.
Other duties as assigned- Make coffee, remind CEO to change contacts every 6 weeks, more bullshit
Minimum of 6 months experience- Experience in anything, we will hire a baby as long as that baby is a recent college graduate.
Strong PowerPoint experience and presentation skills- All study abroad photos will be considered legitimate presentations as long as they are in PowerPoint
MS Office, Word, Excel- People tell us that Word and Excel are part of Microsoft Office, but we’re going to need you to explain that again. If you own a MAC, you’re not polished enough for us.
Excellent verbal and written skills – Must have large enough vocabulary to criticize upper management without criticizing upper management. Must be able to write all future job postings.
You know, I wouldn't necessarily call myself a patriotic person. I did take a trip to Southeast Asia this summer and come home more grateful to be an American than when I left. But as usual the day in and day out of living in this country eroded my enthusiasm.
I am at a loss of what to do. Big farm, big pharm, and big biz continue to shit all over me/us. This does not feel like a country for the people by the people, but more like for the moneymakers by the lobbyists. We pay for politicians to get elected. So they can argue about partisian issues using their constituents as "the reason" for their perspective when I know it has little to do with me and everything to do with who will pay for their re-election campaign. How in the world can someone who doesn't even come close to the average income bracket of an American understand the daily struggles that are significant?
I hear people clamoring for healthcare and campaign reform but even attempts at something new are thwarted. Insurance companies pay for Viagra but don't pay for birth control. Planned Parenthood's budget is cut at a time when people need low-income healthcare more than ever. But Congress is still willing to sponsor NASCAR. Federal funding isn't even used for abortions but the right wing has won the smear campaign that turned Planned Parenthood from an affordable option providing services to women and the underprivileged, into a political hot topic. So women aren't able to afford pregnancy prevention, family planning or pre-natal healthcare. But dudes can still get their dick hard at a reasonable cost.
There are things I celebrate about this country. We have clean water, comfort for some, infrastructure, the right to have a voice, opportunity, freedom to move and challenge and organize. But God forbid that any of those things get in the way of commerce.
Shit, the agricultural/food production industry in this country is making us all sick. I shop at Farmer's markets, grow some stuff, but I still look to our government to say, "No. GMO, pesticides, and caged meat factories is absolutely not in the best interests of the constituency." Our food is pumped with antibiotics and hormones. We don't even test for mad cow. The FDA didn't think we needed to. WHAT?! The F in FDA, is a big 'ole F you!
I don't know what the answer is. I vote. I try and make conscientious buying choices. I'm vocal. But dear lord in heaven I between work and comedy. I don't know where else to find the time.
I believe in the values that founded this country. That all people are created equal that life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness is our right. That we are a great nation that has the ability to move past it's own hatred and do what is just for EVERYONE, to be a country of giving rather than taking. Liberty and Justice and for all. That is what I pray. That the light is stronger than the darkness. That these ideas are moving and surfacing in ways I don't know about, and in the end we will calmly lift each other up.
So don't know if you had a chance to read the previous blog, but I was cast with this piece in the essay show "Listen to Your Mother". Information/blog about the show and the cast announcement is at the link below.
This is something I wrote for the upcoming show Listen to Your Mother.
The idea sucks all the air out of my body, and I come to in the middle of Trader Joe’s crying in front of butternut squash ravioli.
My momma, how will I live without my momma. I feel like I won’t. Like that is the moment when I will just stop, when I won’t feel like doing or fighting or being what I want anymore. That I will just curl up into a ball and shatter into a thousand pieces of grief. That the world around me will no longer have the depth and joy that it did.
My mom thinks this is hilarious. “Gillian you’re being over-dramatic. It’s just a part of life.”
“Jill there’s nothing you can do about it. I’m not sick. I’m just getting older.”
“I hate it!”
I come home and see grey I didn’t see before. Movements that feel slower.
What will I do? What will I do when she is gone? This woman who can scoop me up in a way no one else can. Fathers and lovers and brothers and friends can hold me tight, but she can hold me tighter. This Southern woman with a soothing cadence that says, “What is it honey?” and I know it doesn’t matter what “it” is, but just that she is and I am and that she pats me the way she always does. One two three. Rub. And I let go.
Gillian, she isn’t dying. I know! I’m just…I’m getting older too.
I want more, and I want her to hold my babies if I have them. But I feel like time is running away from me and her and all of us.
I'm on the 10 year plan. And by 10 year plan, I mean in 10 years I'm gonna say, “Shit, I forgot to have kids. Time to steal a baby.”
I mean the only way I'm going to intentionally get pregnant is by accident. Whoops! Thought my IUD was my tampon.
I want to be the movie star I know I am, in time for her to see it. And I want to be as rich as I know I will be, in time to give her things that are so expensive they seem magical. I want to come into my moment now, so I have the freedom to find more moments with her. So that I am free to scoop her up when the time comes that she needs me. So I can hold her tighter. One two three. Rub. “What is it momma?”
And then I come to in the middle of Trader Joe’s crying in front of butternut squash ravioli.
“I’m fine. I just feel strongly about winter vegetables.”
So I am a fan of curly fries, just as much as the next person. But perhaps there is a boundary to how far one should really go. Last weekend there were terrible storms in LA. As usual we had no food in our house. So the roomie and I decided to make a trip to Arby's. We debated on Panera, but Arby's was closer.
We are in line at the drive thru behind a big white van. We are watching this awning filp back and forth off the building and thinking, "Man that thing looks like it's going to fly off." A pro-active person, or perhaps a movie hero like Tom Cruise or Daniel Craig, would have probably taken some action to remove him self from the danger. We are not movie heroes, not yet anyway.
Sure enough the awning flies off the building and into the van in front of us. Pieces of building come off into the man's driver's side window, and he is just stuck there underneath this thing. This giant brown Arby's awning. You know like the kind that has a metal frame. Not little. Huge. Heavy. I being a comic start cracking jokes that this would be the perfect time for an earthquake to happen. "Doesn't that suck? How's that dude going to get out from there?" I'm looking at it just kind of dumbfounded, when the wind picks up the awning. I'm watching it fly right into my windshield, and my face. I scream. My roomie turns to see what's happening. It's like I'm in an action movie. Something is flying at me requiring action, but all I do is scream and cover my face. The awning hits my windshield, and splits in three places right down the middle. We go inside to give the woman our contact information and get the name of the manager. And the clencher, she charges us for our food. No free curlies at Arby's hell no. An Arby's can attack you but you better be ready to pay for that Beef n' Cheddar. Now, that's customer service.
And yes, they are paying for the new window, not the fries, but the window. I mean if I had to choose. I'd pick the window.
So due to the incessant boredom that comes with hours and hours of filing, I have been listening to radiolab.org at work. If you don't know radiolab is a radio show a la "This American Life", but through the filter of science. Holy hannah people, I was a little bit sad before I started listening but listening to consecutive episodes breaking down all magic things in life into a series of evolutionary or mathematical realities put me in one hell of a moody spin. I still like radiolab, but it incredible clear to me why I am not a scientist. For example, cancer that you can catch. Well Tasmanian Devils can catch to be exact, BUT who knows when it will hit humans. Or the man who could only orgasm from safety pins. WHAT?! True.
Flies that borrow in heads, suicide, and man accidentally cutting down the oldest tree ever, being alive and dead, absolutely only randomness, and on and on and on...where questions like the divine and destiny and manifestation are killed hour long scientific deaths. Sigh. Now I'm going to listen to another episode. :)
Did a showcase at Flappers last night in Burbank. I love the name of that club. Nothing make me thing of comedy like the 1920s. It was a great show and thanks to Dave Neiker for putting it on. Had a blast.
Earlier in the week I forgot what a tic tac was. I'm chalking it up to fatigue. I had to actually google "tic tak" and click on the images link to remember what a tic tak was, and even then I looked at the pictures and my brain thought, "Gillian are you sure that's a tic tak? It's not really ringing a bell." The hypochondriac part of me is convinced I have a brain disorder. The normal part of me is considering the proposition and will get back to the hydrochondriac part of me. Yep, I just typed hydrochondriac. Not hypochondriac...more evidence to be submitted.
So I went to an open mic at Cafe 212 last night. I had already hit an mic in the valley, but I was being hard core and decided to hit two. Anyhey, I get there after sign up has started and I am #25 on the list. It was 8:45pm. I was like "okay, I will get up at like 11:30. Three hours later it is time for me to go up...The girl before is about to go. I have sat through three hours of open mic comedy, which is similar to sitting through a high school pep rally, awful. I am 3 minutes away from touching the mic. When bam, the girl before me pulls out the mic from the stand and the sound system blows. She throws a fit, and refuses to do her set. The host turns and looks at me like, "What about you will please distract and keep this going?" Hell Yeah! So I waited three hours to do my set screaming at a 24 hour coffee shop. HIGHLIGHT. Reminder: I will not try and double up on mics unless they are close to my house.
All right...so I watch my fair share of the boob tube. I don't actually own a TV. What? I know, but here's the thing. Almost everything is online. Assuming you are patient.
My question is...am I wasting precious time in SYFY shows? DO I just think this is somehow a relaxing past time but it is getting in the way of my productivity and therefore preventing me from living my destiny. Is the BBC a roadblock to fortune and glory? Has Harry's Law stopped me from blossoming? Katy Perry says I am a firework, is House Hunters International squelching my fire?
I find the idea interesting that the industry I am a part of my be sucking away needed hours from getting work in the industry I am a part of. Yeah! Take that meta.
I try and justify it by saying it is research. But I don't watch stand-up. I actually rarely watch comedy's. I love SYFY. The day I'm cast on a SYFY show I will invent a new dance for all the world called the "Nerdbird", and I will dance it in all the nations. See just another reason to cast me...the "Nerdbird".
Who knows anybody?