I am Red Like Lobster

Sunburnt from beach yesterday. Glorious.

Side note: Bud Lime is my new favorite. Sorry Magic Hat, you're number two now.


I read This Guy's blog today, and it made me think... Do I ever think about my future? He takes all sorts of precautions in order to protect his future career, where as, I do not. For some reason I feel like if I do nothing but avoid taking risks, then it sucks all the fun out of living. With that being said...

Fuck.

There you have it. I dropped the bomb. So don't give me a job because I am immature and don't know how to use the English language to it's full potential.

...yeah. Okay.

I'm sorry, but it wouldn't be part of our language if it wasn't meant to be heard. And for all you minors out there I'm also sorry. You'll learn about it and it's meaning one day. For now just know it's a bad word and don't say it in front of grown-ups. Until you are one. Does that make sense? I hope. Whatever.

I take pride in my skillz. AKA I'm not going to censor myself. For some reason I feel like that creates a false identity of the human being that I am. I dunno. Whatever. It's not like I use it/other offense material for the strict purpose of offending people. It just happens sometimes. O well. Nap-time

Metaphor-Anonymous

Fun Fact: All women... are psycho. But I'm going to leave it at that.


So today's topic involves trust.
My question: Why does it take so much to build it up for oh so long, but then in one moment it can be broken, shattered with just one small rock through the window pane? I don't understand.

I mean, I understand how it works. But I just want to know why it works like that. I guess I'm not thinking clearly. I'm kinda wired from the three cups of coffee I've had since an hour ago. It just jibbers my mind. Is jibber a word? I'm going to make it a word. It's kinda like the word jibberish. Which means nonsense. But jibber means to confuse. "To Boggle one's mind." To jibber my mind.

Furthermore, why do we, as human beings, forgive when trust is broken (fixing that window pane and confiscating the rock) only to have it shattered again (another rock through the new window)? We do this for an average of three times. You know, the three strikes you're out rule.

Yet in my personal experience, I, like a sucker, continually replace the window even though my yard has a rock-lawn.

Rejected!

So I was rejected by Canteen, the magazine. No big deal. I sent in this story called "While You Were Watching." It's fine they rejected. I've been rejected by so many magazines and literary sites you would not believe. I understand how the whole process works, thanks to Lo-Fidelity.

But the thing is... the feedback I got was a bit odd. I mean, even Andrew's feedback from his story (he sent one in too) was as if the editor didn't quite understand the story. I mean, he said Andrew's story had a hallmark ending, which is kinda harsh, but Andrew can take it. He's a man. As well as I. I can take feedback. Even if it is on the rough side. But does that mean that our stories aren't written well? Or does it mean that he just didn't read it as thoroughly as possible? I don't know. I know how tough running a zine can be.

In no way am I dissing Canteen. It is a wonderful magazine and truly has amazing authors. I'm just questioning myself again as to how good a writer I actually am. Should I keep with it? Or quit with all the others. To quote Lil' Wayne, " Stop throwing pebbles at a bulletproof glass." Maybe that applies, maybe it doesn't. Whatever. I like the line. When Wayne is on he is fucking on.

EDIT: Rejection is the only way to get better. So thank you Canteen for rejecting me.

Did you hear the new RZA song? It's pretty bumpin'. So is the Lollipop remix. Again... here I go writing shit no one cares about. Man, maybe Andrew and Scuilli are right. We are all just writing for ourselves. Fuck it. I'm on fire.

Support Local Stuff

I guess I just don't understand. I try to support as many local bands, businesses, ideas, groups, writers, artists, publishers, photographers etc. as much as I possibly can. And for some reason, I can't figure out for the life of me why they don't want to do the same. For instance (but no offense intended) my brother is trying to set up a New Jersey surfing photography name for himself. He has been getting some people asking him for shoots and whatnot, which is totally cool. But when I sport him and try to spread the name around for him as much as possible he does not do the same in return. Not that I'm trying to run a business or anything, but like am I being too egotistical to sort of expect him to spread Lo-Fidelity's name around or hell even mine since I'm trying to get my writing noticed?

Now I do not expect it at all. That is not what I am saying. I am just questioning why some local artists do not support other locals. It just kind of bugs me how much they rely on the locals to support them, but then they do not return the favor.

It's kind of like oral sex. When you receive it, you should probably return the favor.

I remember when Sam was trying to spread Lo-Fidelity's name a few years ago by going to like Surf Taco and other places to ask them to leave it in the store for people to take for free. But these places said no. Is that at all human?

What I am saying I guess is... I will always continue to support local stuff. Always. I just feel like these things I am trying to support should do the same.

Is that wrong of me to think? If so please tell me because I don't want to be that asshole who expects something in return when it's not really deserved. Seriously, please.

Also: because Lo-Fidelity has a slight bit bigger name for itself I am going to continue to try to leave it places. It's still free. And it still has lots of amazing local talent as well as the talent from across the nation starting to pour in. So don't expect that to end. I don't know. Visit my brother's photography site. Especially if you're a surfer somewhere from the Jersey Shore. His prices are close to nothing.

That is all.

I like my coffee black just like my metal

I am happy.

Today is the 27th. Seven.

It is crappy outside, but that didn't stop me from going to the beach this morning. My feet are still sandy. I need to shower. My hair is close to a lion's mane. Did I spell that right?

I haven't had my coffee yet so my mind is going numb staring at this screen. I have also decided I don't like this font but I am too lazy to change it, so I think it works best if I left it alone.

It has also come to my attention that I don't think anyone reads my blog, besides me and maybe Andrew. In which case, I find it strangely useless that I even possess one. Oh well. Maybe he doesn't even read it. Maybe no one reads it and I'm talking to an entire internet world that isn't listening. Like when you're telling a story at a party and then all of a sudden everyone stops listening. Minus that first part where everyone was listening in the first place.

Hmm... I think I'm going to wash my car.

A (Lame) Poem

Today I sat outside
In the sun.
My face was burned.
My arms were burned.
I was burned.
But I'm not worried.
Skin Cancer is
a scare tactic.

And So It Begins...

Well, the bennys are here today. Because I work at the beach in manasquan I deal with them a bit more. So far I've had to:

1. Pick up their trash.
2. Tell them where Main Street in Manasquan was (we were standing next to a street sign)
3. Explain that dogs can only be on the beach in the winter next to a no-dogs sign because they take shits and you assholes do not clean up after them.
4. Laugh at socks on the beach.
5. Explain why smoking and drinking on the beach aren't allowed.
6. Walk away from 6 rude people.

I must also note that not all tourists are disgusting like this. Some abide by our rules, and understand that it is our home. They realize we live here and they pick up their trash. They may ask where a road is, but they do it without being rude. I don't mind people coming to visit. Just don't treat the town like it's your trash can. I live here. So do all the rest of the us. Don't be a fucking retard and clean up after yourselves. Act your age. Follow the rules. Be human. Is that so hard?

Lazy

Wanna know what I've been doing? Nothing.
I wrote some stuff. One's posted here if you care. If not. Meh. I really want to work on my series, but I 1. never have time. 2. do have time but end up being really lazy. 3. go out too much. 4. am super poor.

What does this leave me with? Work at the beach doesn't start for another 3 weeks. Thus no money in my name. Literally. None. Why can't writing pay me? I'd be super fracked out about that and it would inspire me to write more. Fuck you economy. Fuck you hard in the un-lubed asshole that you lack.

I'm hungry.
Time to raid my parents kitchen.

Loner

It really sucks when all your friends are twenty one and you're still the lame twenty-year-old who sits at home with your parents because everyone you know is out at the bars getting shitty with each other.

Cool. Well screw you guys... I can find something productive to do... I think.

Waiting...

With the cold that I've had for a few days now I find myself trying to overcome the dreadful wait until the Jersey Shore is dominated by tourists, bennys and people constantly asking me how to get to the parkway. I've been doing nothing because I don't start work til this weekend and spending money I don't have on stuff I don't really need. Someone please convince me how to stop spending money. Gah. Why does money have to rule our society? Why can't it be something that everyone has... like toenail clippings or hair of some sort?

Anyway, I'm off to a Yankees game tonight (I got the ticket for free, don't worry) with a few buddies. Hopefully that will ease the stress.

Ha Ha! I laugh! Twas a very good Joke!

Submit to Lo-Fidelity. --->
"It's not your school's literary magazine."
We have a myspace and a facebook for your viewing pleasure. If you wish, the email is lowfidelitysubmit@gmail.com. Please send us work. I will personally write you a letter thanking you for your time. And sign it with any color ink of your choice.

We are accepting submissions until June 1st. So you still have time. We have received submissions from across the country so if you send us your best work and get into the zine, you will be seen. You will be noticed by people outside of your hometown. People will read your work or see your art and say "Hey! That tickles my fancy." And children will laugh and birds will sing. Also bad things will go away. Like people who annoy you. Magically they will be invisible around your 5 foot perimeter at all times.

Remember: it isn't your school's literary magazine. It's not about politics and who knows who. It's about good art and good literature.

Much Love.

Titles are for Whimps

Why have I been getting the urge to produce things, like writing, so late at night lately? I mean, this is potentially my career path and I can't stop doing it at 2am. Is something wrong with me?


btDUBS - free iced coffee day was today. awweessommeeee. Counting this cup, I probably obtained 6 free cups of iced coffee from 4 different dunkin donuts locations. Rad.

Goodnight.

I Am Ironman.

Not bad at all. I never really got into Ironman. The comics, I mean. So I wasn't sure if the storyline was as close as possible... but I was impressed. Ghostface was in it for about a minute. Although I'm not sure what song was playing. I was distracted by the dancing women. Anyway, in my professional opinion... Go see it. I shall end this pointless post with a quote. If you name the song I will give you 3 dollars and 25 cents. Because that is all the money I have. "The day I took my mask off my face was missin' for two days. For the record, G, came back a year later, whole new identity. Tony Starks pedigree, my money green like my nickname was celery..."

In case you were wondering...

Wired. That's what I am right now. Five hours of sleep and about six cups of coffee. Kona to be exact.

That's the reason you call it work?

In case you forgot, I've been a giant waste of space for the past week. Today was nothing different. After a delicate round of hitting the snooze button until noon, I found myself driving my girlfriend home in a rather intense storm. The beach was flooded and it was near impossible to see the inlet. So I drop her off, get some Kona coffee from Wawa, come home, rinse my car off and step inside to change. Feeling rather inspired to write, I decided to put it off like a douche bag so I could finish unpacking my college shit. Good idea. Because I ended up doing that until 8pm and then going to the bar for a little while. Now here I am, in the mood to write, but can't focus my eyes onto the keyboard.

You may ask yourself... "But Glen, why is this even relevant to my interests?"

I guess it's not. But mainly I suppose I'm reaching out for help. Because I need to sit down and start this second story in my series for the book I'm working on. My goal is to finish the manuscript by the time I graduate. Whatever. It just blows when you sit down and have the want to write but just can't. I have too much going on. I hate multi-tasking.

But if you want to know what I've been so busy with for the past few days... I have been working hard on improving Lo-Fidelity for everyone. This issue is going to be our best yet. We are trying to set up a street team, design some graphics for stickers and tshirts, and still read all submissions in a timely manner. This is of most difficulty when you yourself are trying to write and produce words that make sense. Yes? Yes.

That is all. I don't know. Tah Tah.

Awesome.

Wasted all day playing this. I am a useless being. My mind actually hurts. Is that even possible? Save me. Please...

Sometimes I feel bad...

Sometimes I feel bad because my father likes to talk a lot and I don't find many of his topics interesting so I stop listening. My responses turn to one and two word answers. I don't really exactly know how to feel about that. I mean, if he were to read this down the road he'd probably laugh at me and say 'yea that's what you do' but I mean now that I am thinking about it, I feel awful. I'm laughing now because I find it funny he doesn't know how to use the internet beyond Youtube, some random forums about Jeeps and NJ high school hockey and verizon email. But hey... He's my dad. What a dork.

What just happened?

I just wasted 10-15 minutes of time reading about this instead of writing/starting a new story like I originally planned to. Amazing? Yes. Although, I don't like the fact that it's listed under taylor ham. I'm hungry. I wonder if I have any in the refrigerator. In fact, I do. Guess what's for breakfast tomorrow?

Leaving Today

I leave school today. I go home. I will say goodbye to everyone even though I will see them all next year, even if they are graduating. I will get home. I will unpack. I sit down. I eat. I do nothing. I see why summer is the love of my life. I decide I need to do something before my head explodes. I fall asleep unsuccessful. I wake up. I run. I lift - do my exercises. I eat breakfast. I shower. I wait patiently for my job to start. I'm not entirely sure what to do now. So I continue to eat boredom.



That is what I will be doing after I leave today. Amazing? Yes. Excited? Yes. Sad because I'm already a senior and I have no idea what happened to the first 3 years of my college career? Unfortunately yes.

Done

Done and finished with my Junior year of college at good ol' Rider U. What does summer hold for such a strapping young lad like myself?

Well, I'm glad you asked. Many hours of hard labor under the sun's violent rays. AKA work at the beach. Excellent. As of right now, the first few days I am home, I will be putting a 3 inch lift on my Jeep, finishing up my second zine 'Bonfire Establishment' and writing for more zines as much as possible. My goal is to finish this series of short stories that I plan on putting together as a book-lengthed manuscript. Hopefully it works. As for now, back to enjoying this beautiful Friday and packing up some loose objects. Later.