My brain works best in the shower. Last night I used it until the water ran cold. Why? Unfortunately, I was deep in thought. I say unfortunately because the thoughts I had were useless, but intriguing nonetheless.
I thought about super powers. To me, it seems like they should be available, but only with strict limitations. As a prelude to these thoughts, I do want to note that I understand the principle core definition of a super power is to be exactly that: Super (without limitations). But for the sake of explanation of my thought process, just hear me out.
How super powers should work for everyday human beings, in theory:
Telekinesis – Your power of telekinesis should only be as strong as your physical ability permits (i.e. if you can physically push a 100lb rock, then you will mentally be able to push it as well). Similarly, if you cannot push a stalled Honda Civic down on a slight incline by yourself, neither can your mind. However, your radius for said telekinesis will only be able to function within a ten yard bubble (or ten meter, depending on what country you were born in) from where you stand at any given time.
Teleportation – Your destination of teleportation can only go as far as you can physically see. Your best bet to travel long distances would most likely be to teleport from a tall location. In addition, your teleportation refractory time should be as fast as your orgasm refractory time. I think that’s only fair.
Invisibility – You should only be able to be as invisible for as long as you can hold your breath. Exhaling in any way starts to fade your body back into sight. By the time you need to inhale again, you are fully visible.
Unlimited strength - *You can only have either unlimited strength, or telekinesis, because having both would be ridiculous and simply unfair. You may never possess both at a single time. Perhaps after a two-year contractual agreement after your possessing one power or another may you switch your plan, but that’s only in theory.
Flight/Levitation – You may levitate/fly only as high as your vertical jump (wherever your fingertips can touch, is where the bottom of your feet can reach when you fly).
Stop Time – You can only stop time for as long as you can hold a constipated state (i.e. when you are seriously trying to push a piece of poo out of your ass).
Night Vision – You can have perfect sight in any light (or darkness) only for the amount of time that you can trust yourself walking inside of the mall at a normal speed... with your eyes closed... during peak hours. *No peeking allowed. (No pun intended)
Time Travel – You can only travel back (never forward) in time in as many minutes as you have lives left at the end of completing CONTRA using the CONTRA/KONAMI code. (i.e. if you are a gaming master, the furthest back you can travel in time is 99 minutes). *You may try as many times as you like to increase the time*
On the flip-side, I’ve discovered a short list of superpowers that are the least wanted in the world:
Ketchup Transformer – The ability to turn anything into ketchup.
Flower Face – The ability to turn your face into a flower anytime.
Acid Tears – The ability to secrete nitric acid tears whenever you are sad.
Bug-Pathy – The ability to communicate with insects.
A-Sexual Reproduction – The ability to reproduce a-sexually, by yourself
... I personally would like to have the Ketchup Transformer power, but then again, I tend to run out of ketchup more quickly than the average ketchup consumer.
Sunday, May 31, 2009
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
"Music is no longer about how you sound, but how you look" -AC Lorenzo
The above quote sums up how much music has devolved over the past few years.
Music that defines a decade:
70's - Disco
80's - Rock and Roll
90's - Fresh R&B
2000's? __________
With the barrage of reality TV shows like American Idol bastardizing what once was good music (with only 'pretty people' making the cut) it only makes sense that confused teens turn to alternative, underground, and even Emo types of songs to find their Golden Age of Music; what they so vehemently describe as, 'real talent'.
Which still begs the question: What is considered 'Popular Music'? Because even when these underground artists become popular, their once-loyal fan base commits mutiny against them, screaming "Sellout!" to them from the highest mountain tops. It's all so warped.
I've ultimately been disturbed with how prejudice our society has been on the whole idea of music. Susan Boyle on Britain's Got Talent is a perfect example: "Oh, you have a decent voice, AND you're ugly! Wow, let's make that an internet sensation" Honestly, if that woman wins it won't be because of her 'Talent' as the name of the show claims, and we all know it.
Strip away the visual aspects of a musical artist and simply listen to what they have to offer. Throw up a curtain in front of them before you get to see what they look like and listen like every generation before this weird age and you just might find that you'll actually judge a musical artist for what their claim to fame should be: Their music. Not how they look, how they are with the media, or what their personality is like - that should be secondary, shouldn't it?
Think about it, is Brittney really talented? If you really listen to her songs since her 'comeback', they're all about how we're chasing her because of who she is. She's making money off of mocking our retarded interest in her life. And the best part is that she's getting away with it all right under our noses. Truth be told, that's the first time that she's actually impressed me since oogling over her sexy belly in "Hit Me Baby One More Time." Ahh, the guilty pleasure of watching her dance around in jailbait-outfits.
But take the belly and schoolgirl uniforms away, and man that was a stupid song.
All I'm saying is that there is no music that can clearly define this decade, because this decade, unlike those before it, can't seem to rally around a brand that can unite us. Perhaps we will just forever be known in the history books as the decade of 'The Confused and Talentless."
Ah, now there's something to be proud of.
Music that defines a decade:
70's - Disco
80's - Rock and Roll
90's - Fresh R&B
2000's? __________
With the barrage of reality TV shows like American Idol bastardizing what once was good music (with only 'pretty people' making the cut) it only makes sense that confused teens turn to alternative, underground, and even Emo types of songs to find their Golden Age of Music; what they so vehemently describe as, 'real talent'.
Which still begs the question: What is considered 'Popular Music'? Because even when these underground artists become popular, their once-loyal fan base commits mutiny against them, screaming "Sellout!" to them from the highest mountain tops. It's all so warped.
I've ultimately been disturbed with how prejudice our society has been on the whole idea of music. Susan Boyle on Britain's Got Talent is a perfect example: "Oh, you have a decent voice, AND you're ugly! Wow, let's make that an internet sensation" Honestly, if that woman wins it won't be because of her 'Talent' as the name of the show claims, and we all know it.
Strip away the visual aspects of a musical artist and simply listen to what they have to offer. Throw up a curtain in front of them before you get to see what they look like and listen like every generation before this weird age and you just might find that you'll actually judge a musical artist for what their claim to fame should be: Their music. Not how they look, how they are with the media, or what their personality is like - that should be secondary, shouldn't it?
Think about it, is Brittney really talented? If you really listen to her songs since her 'comeback', they're all about how we're chasing her because of who she is. She's making money off of mocking our retarded interest in her life. And the best part is that she's getting away with it all right under our noses. Truth be told, that's the first time that she's actually impressed me since oogling over her sexy belly in "Hit Me Baby One More Time." Ahh, the guilty pleasure of watching her dance around in jailbait-outfits.
But take the belly and schoolgirl uniforms away, and man that was a stupid song.
All I'm saying is that there is no music that can clearly define this decade, because this decade, unlike those before it, can't seem to rally around a brand that can unite us. Perhaps we will just forever be known in the history books as the decade of 'The Confused and Talentless."
Ah, now there's something to be proud of.
Saturday, April 25, 2009
Murphy's Law?
Firstly, yesterday was awesome.
Secondly, today is not. In fact, I'd say that it is an absolute 180 degree/100 per cent opposite definition of opposite.
Thirdly, I won't explain why.
Fourthly, let's talk about Murphy's Law:
For those of you who aren't familiar with Murphy's Law, it is basically, in a nutshell, the idea that anything that can go wrong, will.
"Thou shall not tempt the God of Murphy lest they wish for him to unleash the wrath that is his Law"
-Some Awesome Guy (Psst! It's me!)
I've learned that the best way to avoid the invocation of Murphy's Law is to stray as far away as one can from uttering the phrase, "Things can't possibly get any worse than this." For once said, things will almost certainly find a way of becoming increasingly difficult as time wears on (at least until you go to sleep and wake up the next day... and at most, for the rest of your life). Even thinking the phrase can be damaging, especially when in company of another person who is thinking the exact same thing, as the act of two minds thinking against Murphy's Law will bring double the dose of consequence - of course, the last part is only theory, but scientific speculation cautions against the idea of testing it.
That being said, riding the high from yesterday's wave of excitement has most certainly made the fall that much more worse. By now, I've crashed and burned harder than I expected. Now that I think about it, I feel so defeated that I don't see any harm in recounting the highlights, or in this case 'lowlights' of my day:
-Running on four hours of sleep this Saturday is destroying my soul
-My car is having a slumber party with other cars at the mechanic's shop
-Because of the above statement, I'm out $1100 dollars.
-I'm stranded
-My cell phone battery is dead
-My house keys are attached to the car keys at the shop which is now closed for today
-My roommates are out at parties or with friends for the day
-My parents (within walking distance from my current location) have fled the coop
-I used up the rest of my battery on my phone calling 8 people who would possibly give me a ride... and got forwarded to 8 voice mail messages
-I have no cash for the bus
-My left nipple on my shirt has a nice stain from a sample piece of Orange Chicken; so now it looks like I'm lopsidedly lactating orange juice.
-Why won't my Pink-Eye go away?
Now granted, there are definitely worse things that can happen. By no means is my situation the end of the world (that's in 2012). I mean, for example, I could get hit by a bus and turn into a male version of Helen Keller.
But by then, the bus driver might feel obligated to at least give me a ride, so I guess that wouldn't be all too bad.
The horrible thing is that I've already anticipated for the day to get exponentially worse. I don't know how, but I have a sinking feeling that this isn't the end of the bad string of events for me. So, now that I've made it to a coffee shop to plug my laptop in, I've decided to wait out the storm until things clear up.
Consider it my rest or medicine for the sickness that is Murphy's Law.
By the way, in addition, my coffee tastes like feet.
Secondly, today is not. In fact, I'd say that it is an absolute 180 degree/100 per cent opposite definition of opposite.
Thirdly, I won't explain why.
Fourthly, let's talk about Murphy's Law:
For those of you who aren't familiar with Murphy's Law, it is basically, in a nutshell, the idea that anything that can go wrong, will.
"Thou shall not tempt the God of Murphy lest they wish for him to unleash the wrath that is his Law"
-Some Awesome Guy (Psst! It's me!)
I've learned that the best way to avoid the invocation of Murphy's Law is to stray as far away as one can from uttering the phrase, "Things can't possibly get any worse than this." For once said, things will almost certainly find a way of becoming increasingly difficult as time wears on (at least until you go to sleep and wake up the next day... and at most, for the rest of your life). Even thinking the phrase can be damaging, especially when in company of another person who is thinking the exact same thing, as the act of two minds thinking against Murphy's Law will bring double the dose of consequence - of course, the last part is only theory, but scientific speculation cautions against the idea of testing it.
That being said, riding the high from yesterday's wave of excitement has most certainly made the fall that much more worse. By now, I've crashed and burned harder than I expected. Now that I think about it, I feel so defeated that I don't see any harm in recounting the highlights, or in this case 'lowlights' of my day:
-Running on four hours of sleep this Saturday is destroying my soul
-My car is having a slumber party with other cars at the mechanic's shop
-Because of the above statement, I'm out $1100 dollars.
-I'm stranded
-My cell phone battery is dead
-My house keys are attached to the car keys at the shop which is now closed for today
-My roommates are out at parties or with friends for the day
-My parents (within walking distance from my current location) have fled the coop
-I used up the rest of my battery on my phone calling 8 people who would possibly give me a ride... and got forwarded to 8 voice mail messages
-I have no cash for the bus
-My left nipple on my shirt has a nice stain from a sample piece of Orange Chicken; so now it looks like I'm lopsidedly lactating orange juice.
-Why won't my Pink-Eye go away?
Now granted, there are definitely worse things that can happen. By no means is my situation the end of the world (that's in 2012). I mean, for example, I could get hit by a bus and turn into a male version of Helen Keller.
But by then, the bus driver might feel obligated to at least give me a ride, so I guess that wouldn't be all too bad.
The horrible thing is that I've already anticipated for the day to get exponentially worse. I don't know how, but I have a sinking feeling that this isn't the end of the bad string of events for me. So, now that I've made it to a coffee shop to plug my laptop in, I've decided to wait out the storm until things clear up.
Consider it my rest or medicine for the sickness that is Murphy's Law.
By the way, in addition, my coffee tastes like feet.
Wednesday, April 8, 2009
Letter of Gratitude
To the person who opened and drank my milk that I just bought,
Hi. I hope you enjoyed the brand-new carton of milk that I just bought yesterday. I know I would have. I know that you probably didn't see the big red, bolded, capitalized words that I wrote in thick, permanent marker which read: "DO NOT DRINK. DO NOT THROW AWAY. PROPERTY OF MATT LORENZO" on the sides. Heck, if I needed milk and couldn't make the effort to get my own, I'd probably do the same - I mean, after all, we ARE at work, aren't we? It's not like there's a Wal-Mart a hundred-fifty steps due south of the building.... oh, wait, there is?
Well anyhoo, none of that matters. I'll give you the benifit of the doubt and guess that you probably didn't know about that location. I mean, why else would you go and drink half of a quart of a brand-new carton of milk that somebody else purchased, right? I bet that feeling of peeling apart the protective, plastic seal was just a joy too good to pass up, huh?
Things like this happen all of the time, right? Heck, it could have been your milk that you thought you were drinking all along, right? Granted, the only other thing made of white that I saw on the shelf of the community fridge was a jar of mayonaise... which I also bought and wrote on, but still, hey, we all make clumsy mistakes, right?
Don't take this the wrong way. I mean, I'm not mad or anything. I'm actually impressed with your boldness. It takes a lot of courage to go through such a decision. I'm sure that you had a bowl of cereal already poured, just praying, hoping, wishing that there would be some milk that magically appeared out of nowhere just calling your name, didn't you?
I mean, it's insane to think of how else it could have happened. There's no possible way that you could have, say... had something else lined up in your mind that you wanted to eat that didn't require milk at all. That might have been about the time when you opened up the fridge to peek around, although you knew for sure that you didn't put anything in there yourself in the first place. Then upon seeing the new milk there for the first time, you decided that it's been a while since you had oatmeal, and since you didn't have any of your own, you thought that your cube-mate would gladly give you a scoop or two of theirs since it always smells so good in the morning. So then, after going through all of the trouble of getting the oatmeal, you trucked back down to the fridge and used the milk to satiate your newfound craving. And upon doing so, decided on taking a tall glass from the cabinet and pour yourself a full helping of milk from that same carton so that you could wash down that tasty oatmeal. Then upon realizing that you've had half the carton all by your lonesome, you shamefully put the milk back in what you thought might have been its original place...
Yeah. Psshhhh, that's just absurd. Like that would ever be the case.
Well, congrats. I hope the milk tasted wonderful.
Now if you'll excuse me, I'll be buying myself a new carton of milk that I will be storing in a different location.
In addition, I will be buying a heavy, heavy.... heavy laxitive. But don't worry - It's not for the existing milk carton that you most likely will still be drinking from again...
No... Not for that at all...
Hi. I hope you enjoyed the brand-new carton of milk that I just bought yesterday. I know I would have. I know that you probably didn't see the big red, bolded, capitalized words that I wrote in thick, permanent marker which read: "DO NOT DRINK. DO NOT THROW AWAY. PROPERTY OF MATT LORENZO" on the sides. Heck, if I needed milk and couldn't make the effort to get my own, I'd probably do the same - I mean, after all, we ARE at work, aren't we? It's not like there's a Wal-Mart a hundred-fifty steps due south of the building.... oh, wait, there is?
Well anyhoo, none of that matters. I'll give you the benifit of the doubt and guess that you probably didn't know about that location. I mean, why else would you go and drink half of a quart of a brand-new carton of milk that somebody else purchased, right? I bet that feeling of peeling apart the protective, plastic seal was just a joy too good to pass up, huh?
Things like this happen all of the time, right? Heck, it could have been your milk that you thought you were drinking all along, right? Granted, the only other thing made of white that I saw on the shelf of the community fridge was a jar of mayonaise... which I also bought and wrote on, but still, hey, we all make clumsy mistakes, right?
Don't take this the wrong way. I mean, I'm not mad or anything. I'm actually impressed with your boldness. It takes a lot of courage to go through such a decision. I'm sure that you had a bowl of cereal already poured, just praying, hoping, wishing that there would be some milk that magically appeared out of nowhere just calling your name, didn't you?
I mean, it's insane to think of how else it could have happened. There's no possible way that you could have, say... had something else lined up in your mind that you wanted to eat that didn't require milk at all. That might have been about the time when you opened up the fridge to peek around, although you knew for sure that you didn't put anything in there yourself in the first place. Then upon seeing the new milk there for the first time, you decided that it's been a while since you had oatmeal, and since you didn't have any of your own, you thought that your cube-mate would gladly give you a scoop or two of theirs since it always smells so good in the morning. So then, after going through all of the trouble of getting the oatmeal, you trucked back down to the fridge and used the milk to satiate your newfound craving. And upon doing so, decided on taking a tall glass from the cabinet and pour yourself a full helping of milk from that same carton so that you could wash down that tasty oatmeal. Then upon realizing that you've had half the carton all by your lonesome, you shamefully put the milk back in what you thought might have been its original place...
Yeah. Psshhhh, that's just absurd. Like that would ever be the case.
Well, congrats. I hope the milk tasted wonderful.
Now if you'll excuse me, I'll be buying myself a new carton of milk that I will be storing in a different location.
In addition, I will be buying a heavy, heavy.... heavy laxitive. But don't worry - It's not for the existing milk carton that you most likely will still be drinking from again...
No... Not for that at all...
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
Things Not to Do
1.) If you need to relieve your bladder or ease the turtling-effect (aka if you are 'pushing cloth') and there is only a single-stalled/toilet bathroom in a given public arena, do not - in ANY capacity - ever allow somebody into said bathroom before you.
Why?
They will ALWAYS take too long, and ultimately make you give them the stink-eye once they leave the bathroom, only to receive nothing but a look of confusion from them.
*Exception: If the person that wants to use the restroom is a girl regardless of any age or physical attractiveness.
Addendum-1: Rule above apparently only applies to men in both parties of the scenario. Females have their own set of arcane rules that make absolutely no sense to me whatsoever.
2.) Never sit next to me in a coffee shop if you are a small group of cute girls, or girls whose cuteness I have yet to determine.
Why?
I know it sounds cliche, but I really am at the coffee shop to try to get some writing done. Your presence alone is distracting me from what I need to get done. If you absolutely must sit next to me while I work, please do me the courtesy of at least trying to look ugly. And if that ends up turning me on or grabbing my attention, at least do me the common decency of flirting with me so that I can feel that it's all worth it. The absolute LAST thing that you and your friends should do is pose sexily in front of your laptop's webcam. That really irrtates me because I can't tell if I'm supposed to like you or hate you. So in the end, not only am I distracted, but I am irritated as well... which means that I can't get any of the original work that I was trying to accomplish done in the first place.
*Exception: If you are married, you are excused from the above.
Addendum-1: Never mind, you are still subject to the rule.
Addendum-2: I hate you.
3.) Do not leave the gym equipment without wiping it down; especially after grunting on it for the past five minutes.
Why?
Come on, really?
*Exception: Hot chick.
Addendum-1: The hot chick card trumps EVERY rule for the time being.
Addendum-2: Whatever happens AFTER the 'time being', may or may not lower the 'trump-ness' of the hot chick card (e.g. over time the crazy factor of hot chick may throw off the scale)
There are a pleothra of other cardinal rules one should never break, but these are three that were broken for me yesterday in succession. For that, I simply cannot forgive human beings in general. EVER.
*...Exception: Are you a hot chick? Follow me @ Twitter.com/Mattlorenz
Addendum-1: I will forgive everything you do.
Addendum-2: Seriously.
Why?
They will ALWAYS take too long, and ultimately make you give them the stink-eye once they leave the bathroom, only to receive nothing but a look of confusion from them.
*Exception: If the person that wants to use the restroom is a girl regardless of any age or physical attractiveness.
Addendum-1: Rule above apparently only applies to men in both parties of the scenario. Females have their own set of arcane rules that make absolutely no sense to me whatsoever.
2.) Never sit next to me in a coffee shop if you are a small group of cute girls, or girls whose cuteness I have yet to determine.
Why?
I know it sounds cliche, but I really am at the coffee shop to try to get some writing done. Your presence alone is distracting me from what I need to get done. If you absolutely must sit next to me while I work, please do me the courtesy of at least trying to look ugly. And if that ends up turning me on or grabbing my attention, at least do me the common decency of flirting with me so that I can feel that it's all worth it. The absolute LAST thing that you and your friends should do is pose sexily in front of your laptop's webcam. That really irrtates me because I can't tell if I'm supposed to like you or hate you. So in the end, not only am I distracted, but I am irritated as well... which means that I can't get any of the original work that I was trying to accomplish done in the first place.
*Exception: If you are married, you are excused from the above.
Addendum-1: Never mind, you are still subject to the rule.
Addendum-2: I hate you.
3.) Do not leave the gym equipment without wiping it down; especially after grunting on it for the past five minutes.
Why?
Come on, really?
*Exception: Hot chick.
Addendum-1: The hot chick card trumps EVERY rule for the time being.
Addendum-2: Whatever happens AFTER the 'time being', may or may not lower the 'trump-ness' of the hot chick card (e.g. over time the crazy factor of hot chick may throw off the scale)
There are a pleothra of other cardinal rules one should never break, but these are three that were broken for me yesterday in succession. For that, I simply cannot forgive human beings in general. EVER.
*...Exception: Are you a hot chick? Follow me @ Twitter.com/Mattlorenz
Addendum-1: I will forgive everything you do.
Addendum-2: Seriously.
Monday, April 6, 2009
Sleep
Before today's blog let's read a couple of thoughts from our sponser - My brain:
While I'm drinking a cold bottle of water, if I get interrupted or stop at any point, the second, immediate attempt at the drink will almost certainly not be as quenching.
I know the proper way to say it is 'Bless you', but when somebody sneezes, I can't help but pronounce it 'Ble-shoe'. Come on, you know you do it do.
And now, back to our regularly scheduled blog:
So sleep. When do I sleep?
When the dog decides to lay down on my stomach, I sleep.
When I discover a new position to lay down in on the couch, I sleep.
When the floor seems to have more give than it did the day before, I sleep.
When I can wrap my arm inside the seatbelt and let it hang while I'm parked, I sleep.
When my tongue finally gets tired of trying to pick at the food in between my teeth, I sleep.
When I have had too much caffine, I sleep.
When I play at least an hour of Street Fighter IV, I sleep.
When a girl gently sweeps her fingertips back and forth along my forearm, I sleep.
When I'm finally getting into a creative rhythm with my writing, I sleep.
When I think I've woken up from a dream, only to realize that I'm stll dreaming, I sleep.
When I try to put a baby to sleep, I sleep.
When I look at the clock and think it's 3pm, when it's actually 3am, I sleep.
When I'm sitting in the midnight mass of Chrismas Eve, I sleep.
When I'm listening to Norah Jones, I sleep
When I lightly sniff the scent of vanilla and coconut, I smile, then I sleep.
When I'm heartbroken, I sleep.
When I'm playing Hide-and-Seek and I am the one hiding, I sleep.
When I stare at a picture of a pretty girl too long, I sleep.
Traditional forms of sleep tend to bore me.
While I'm drinking a cold bottle of water, if I get interrupted or stop at any point, the second, immediate attempt at the drink will almost certainly not be as quenching.
I know the proper way to say it is 'Bless you', but when somebody sneezes, I can't help but pronounce it 'Ble-shoe'. Come on, you know you do it do.
And now, back to our regularly scheduled blog:
So sleep. When do I sleep?
When the dog decides to lay down on my stomach, I sleep.
When I discover a new position to lay down in on the couch, I sleep.
When the floor seems to have more give than it did the day before, I sleep.
When I can wrap my arm inside the seatbelt and let it hang while I'm parked, I sleep.
When my tongue finally gets tired of trying to pick at the food in between my teeth, I sleep.
When I have had too much caffine, I sleep.
When I play at least an hour of Street Fighter IV, I sleep.
When a girl gently sweeps her fingertips back and forth along my forearm, I sleep.
When I'm finally getting into a creative rhythm with my writing, I sleep.
When I think I've woken up from a dream, only to realize that I'm stll dreaming, I sleep.
When I try to put a baby to sleep, I sleep.
When I look at the clock and think it's 3pm, when it's actually 3am, I sleep.
When I'm sitting in the midnight mass of Chrismas Eve, I sleep.
When I'm listening to Norah Jones, I sleep
When I lightly sniff the scent of vanilla and coconut, I smile, then I sleep.
When I'm heartbroken, I sleep.
When I'm playing Hide-and-Seek and I am the one hiding, I sleep.
When I stare at a picture of a pretty girl too long, I sleep.
Traditional forms of sleep tend to bore me.
Friday, April 3, 2009
Spoiler Alert
When is okay to talk about spoilers? How much time needs to pass after a movie or TV show comes out before the ending becomes public information?
There are many awesome things that one can do because of the luxury of having acces to the internet, but with great power comes great responsibility, right? Facebook is a perfect example of this.
The other day, there was a lot of unhappiness spread around my little world because of one innocent little Facebook status update from one of my friends.
In reference to the TV show, Lost, the status update read as follows (with names removed for those who missed it):
"_______ just capped ______, woooohooooo!"
This update was posted just mere minutes after the show had aired on TV that night. Thus began the wave of unhappiness:
1:30am: My cousin - a Lost fan who missed the episode - accidentally reads the statement and goes berserk.
1:31am: While sleeping in bed I hear a pounding at my door. I open it just to have my cousin warn me with angry eyes not to go onto Facebook until we watched the episode. I am upset that I lost sleep that night.
7:45am: Because of my lack of sleep I walk into work and yell at my co-worker about not finishing something that I asked her to do for me. She gets upset and storms off to her cubile.
2:00pm: I hear that said co-worker had gone off on someone else in a different department.
5:00pm: As I walked out of work, I wondered how far the yelling went.
So yeah, my cousin and I ended up watching that episode of Lost half-filled with excitement, while the other half was filled with anticipation of waiting for X person to 'cap' the other X person.
In the end, I guess that the moral of the story is that if you don't want other people to start yelling at each other and unleash havoc into the world, don't announce spoilers on the internet for the world to see.
By the way, Vader is Luke's father.
There are many awesome things that one can do because of the luxury of having acces to the internet, but with great power comes great responsibility, right? Facebook is a perfect example of this.
The other day, there was a lot of unhappiness spread around my little world because of one innocent little Facebook status update from one of my friends.
In reference to the TV show, Lost, the status update read as follows (with names removed for those who missed it):
"_______ just capped ______, woooohooooo!"
This update was posted just mere minutes after the show had aired on TV that night. Thus began the wave of unhappiness:
1:30am: My cousin - a Lost fan who missed the episode - accidentally reads the statement and goes berserk.
1:31am: While sleeping in bed I hear a pounding at my door. I open it just to have my cousin warn me with angry eyes not to go onto Facebook until we watched the episode. I am upset that I lost sleep that night.
7:45am: Because of my lack of sleep I walk into work and yell at my co-worker about not finishing something that I asked her to do for me. She gets upset and storms off to her cubile.
2:00pm: I hear that said co-worker had gone off on someone else in a different department.
5:00pm: As I walked out of work, I wondered how far the yelling went.
So yeah, my cousin and I ended up watching that episode of Lost half-filled with excitement, while the other half was filled with anticipation of waiting for X person to 'cap' the other X person.
In the end, I guess that the moral of the story is that if you don't want other people to start yelling at each other and unleash havoc into the world, don't announce spoilers on the internet for the world to see.
By the way, Vader is Luke's father.
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