Thursday, March 31, 2011

5 New (and Useless) Ways to View Your Blog










In terms of functionality I'd say the majority of these options are completely useless with the exception of sidebar and flipcard. What a bland, unimpressive gimmick. I don't imagine many bloggers are going to start tacking on /view/timeslide to every blog they frequent any time soon.

It is true that I am known to be skeptical of "improvements" (Facebook, anyone?). Am I wrong? Are any of my readers enjoying these new features?

Something Nothing Everything Anything

i forgot to write posts for today because i was busy doing pull-ups, drinking whiskey, and drawing the free drawings from previous contests.

it was a surprisingly bad combination of things.

anyway, there will be more contests here-- and more ADJECTIVE-NOUN drawing giveaways-- but below are some examples of previous wins. so far, karisma, and aimee have won. and techboy won a secret contest in the comments section.


i can't show you larger photos because you didn't win and technically don't have the right to feel the same as the winners. they don't give you full slices of pizza at those costco sample kiosks. no, you just get a little piece of pepperoni with a toothpick. so larger drawings must be won. then you get a super high-res drawing-- so large you could wear it as pants if you know much about sewing and decide to.

so keep an eye out for contests, and perhaps you'll win a constipated shark, or a near-sighted eagle. or something.

Wednesday, March 30, 2011

intoxicated poop segment: part cix

i'm a little surprised that this is considered news. yes, 72% of the [tested] shopping carts in supermarkets have traces of fecal bacteria on their handles. and yes, that is more poop residue than what's commonly found on a public toilet. but we already discussed this in 2006. this already happened! the only "news" is that no one has done anything about it since, and the poo-germ species has grown from 66% to 72% domination.


and sometimes i wonder why people even publish these studies. when my roommate discovered that his toothbrush was being covered in tiny poop-particles because bathroom air automatically consists of at least six aerial poop molecules, he moved the brush to his bedroom.

so, when he's asleep, i take his toothbrush and fart all over it.

nothing has been solved. there's poop everywhere-- whether you know it or not. and sometimes it's better you just don't.

hidden poop aside, i'm much more worried about the journalist who used a stock photo of a regular child eating a maple-donut and made him appear as though he's got diarrhea all over his mouth.

"there was brown stuff on the handle, so i ate it, dad!"

good times.

Aspiring Author Interview with Michael Lockhart

Let's start off with something simple. Who are you?

It's hard to imagine a less simple question. I won't have an answer until it's too late to give it to you. The short, temporary answer is that I'm a guy who writes, who decided that it was more important to write than anything else I was doing, and worth giving everything else up to do it. I quit a solid career at 42 and started over, from scratch, so I could reach for a measure of authenticity.
    
Could you tell us a little bit about your work in progress?

15 years ago know I wrote the first chapter of an epic fantasy story, something I wanted to be huge. Then I got distracted by less important things like the career I mentioned earlier and it ended up on a shelf. When I finally got back to taking writing seriously, that was the story that took me by the throat. Hand of God is, at the very least, epic in size. I'm nearing the completed beta draft at around 170k words. At its heart, it's the story of two warriors who could be brothers, but who are presented with different paths, each attempting to do the right thing, and unaware that those paths are leading them into a collision course. It's also about politics and greed and the dangers of institutionalism and magic and innocence. In my head, it is part of a series that stretches out four to twelve books deep.
 
What is the first story you remember writing? What was it about?

When I was six I wrote a short story about a famous singer that woke up one morning mute. She was crushed and ran into the woods, despondent. When she stopped running  and her sobs finally drained into stillness, she heard the sound, the song, of the forest as if for the first time and regained a sense of wonder that she'd lost in her focussed rush to be successful and famous. I was far wiser as a child that I was as an adult.
 
Are you more of a “plotter” or a “pantser”?

More of a pantser. I don;t like outlining much. For the WIP though, I wrote a lot about my fictional world's fictional history and politics, social, religious and academic institutions. I didn't want to hem in the story, but I wanted a context to give the world a sense of depth.
All writers need encouragement. Who first encouraged you to write, and who is it that encourages you today?

My Dad was an English teacher, so he started me off young. He essentially skipped me past traditional children's lit (which I tried to fix during university in one semester), from Seuss to Tolkien to Hemingway in the year before grade one. He ended up drifitng out of my life too early to follow the indoctrination through to its conclusion, but a seed was planted. Today it's my friends and that niggling voice in my head that keeps me up at night.
 
Which authors have had a significant influence on your writing?

Hemingway, Tolkien, C.S.Lewis, Frank Herbert, Stephen R. Donaldson's Thomas Covenant series - these were the favorite stories of my childhood. Today I read as much non-fiction as fiction. I fell in love with Rushdie's words in school and adore getting lost in Neal Stephenson's and William Gibson's imaginations.
 
What music, if any, do you enjoy listening to while you write?

Depends on what kind of chapter I'm writing. I have playlists set up for different moods. But most of the material either originates from angsty '90's alternative or dub-step and electronica.  
 
What are your greatest strengths and weaknesses as a writer?

Honestly, I think it's too early to say for sure. I know that self-discipline and procrastination are weaknesses, but that goes beyond writing. I hope that I can count action sequences and dialog as among strengths - the story kind of relies on those two. It's written in third person, but my narrator tries to shy away from describing the inner workings of the characters' mind. That makes conveying feelings and character development through dialog and actions more important, and I like it that way.
 
What do you hope to achieve with your writing?

I hope that the work entertains. I loved using novels as a temporary and vital escape when I was younger. But I also hope that there are truths and themes significant enough in the story to be worth exploring. Again, I loved that in the stories I loved. I'm trying to write a novel that I would have loved and wanted to read again and again.
 
What was once traditionally a print medium is now rapidly branching out into many digital formats. What do you think of this trend?

I like the idea of e-books, I think that the pulp paperback market could happily be replaced by it, and that appeals to the tree-hugger in me. E-books also open things up, making great new literature more affordable to poor people like me, and providing opportunities for new writers outside of traditional routes. Personally, I want to pursue traditional publishing mostly because I don't consider myself an entrepreneur, and don't want to focus on the business side of things if I don't have to. If I can find an agent and publisher to help reduce that load, I'll be a happy camper. But I love the idea that people can carry a library around in their satchel or purse, and that they can discover words that might have never been available without e-publishing.
 
What was the last sentence that you had to re-read over and over again because of its awesomeness? What struck you about it?

"Expression without constraint comes right from the source. It is the quick, rough sketch, however imprecise, that captures the underlying spirit of things, that has power, whether in jazz or art." ~ Archibald Campbell

I read a lot of blogs and e-mail subscriptions. Mr. Campbell is a painter who writes about the creative life with a vibrancy and passion that I love. I loved writing the first draft of my WIP, but it sucked. Really. I was mortified when I went back to start the revising process. The plot was there, and event he most poignant scenes were pretty good, but the narrative in between was far rougher than I would have liked. But then, writing the first one is such a learning process, isn't it? My goal now is to refine my craft to the point where the first draft is much closer to a complete work. It's my hope that I can capture more of the 'underlying spirit' by more skillfully rendering that first draft so that there will be less deep revision and more polishing. 
What book(s) have you recently read that you would recommend to the readers of this blog?

The last book I read was Greg Mortensen's Stones into Schools, about his quest to bring education to rural Pakistan and Afghanistan. It's heartbreaking and inspiring. Right now I'm reading Rushdie's Luka and the Lake of Fire, which is typically wonderful. 
 
What advice do you have to other aspiring authors out there?

I'm in no place to give advice, but I think I'd invite everyone down to the Authentic Cafe for a cup of full strength honesty. We can talk and learn together.
 
An apocalypse destroys the entirety of human literature, apart from the work of three authors that you can magically save with your wizardry – what do you save from imminent destruction?

Rushdie, Socrates, Saramago 
 
Our time is at an end. For our curious readers, how can we follow your progress?

I blog at michaeldlockhart.blogspot.com about the WIP and anything that captures my attention. From there you can find me on Twitter and Facebook. I'll look for ya...

***Are you an aspiring author willing to do an interview for my little blog? If so, click here.***

Duck-lips and Desmond Morris

i agree that there is some truth to the human lips and the vagina. desmond morris argues (in the naked ape) that the reason our lips are turned "inside-out", unlike all other primates, is that our faces are meant to resemble labia in the same way a baboon's face looks strikingly like its anus.

his book was written in 1967, however, and there are several things either out of date or missing entirely.

desmond morris was not alive to ever scrutinize Duck-lips, or Duckface.

i theorize late-night drunken-bitch photography's addition of Duck-lips is a slutty attempt at utilizing lips to further the thought of vaginas-- an extreme version of our already vaginal-esque lips-- to really show you they mean business. because there is no other reason. it cannot be because someone actually thinks guys find that ridiculous face attractive. no guy finds it attractive. no guy. this is not a situation where i, as one guy, say "no guy" and just mean me. in the male community we are dumbstruck by the idea-- bewildered and worried-- and none of us can decide who on earth ever told girls to start forcing their lips out like imbecilic fish in order to look hot.

i think most guys sigh when their girlfriend sends one of those pictures.

for a while, i thought these ladies were pretending to be readying a kiss-- but if that's true, it's absolutely failed.


it just looks like you're making spitty fart noises with your mouth.

and i have tried for the longest time to put some form of reasoning behind the obsession with the Duckface. i've even seen rather respectable girls doing it, and i always want to run up and smack them ask them why.

so back to desmond morris and the vagina lips.

he says our lips protrude to create a sort of face-snatch, and subliminally increase our sexual desire-- thus keeping ourselves populating. so, in a drunken state, perhaps our already protruding lips are simply not enough. and perhaps, on an animal level, this is where the Duck-lips originated.

"were you thinking about my vagina? no? DUCKFACE HOW ABOUT NOW?"

i mean, is there a reason? did zoolander do this to you? is it instinct, pop-culture, or something else entirely?

please discuss.

Tuesday, March 29, 2011

It's True

Wiz Khalifa Rolling Papers

I am keeping one I really want to recommend on the last night for you. Here is the first version, key third studio album "Rolling papers" from Pittsburgh rapper Wiz Khalifa. Compared with the regular version 14 - the path, and the issuance of iTunes by the United States and one of the most rewarding and a handbook for the digital spectrum. This album is really good. You do not want to miss it.

Gluten Free Diet



Have you noticed an abundance of gluten-free foods available in grocery stores or on menus these days? Perhaps the proliferation of gluten-free products, as well as marketing them, lead you to believe that they are a new medicine to better health or weight loss.
So, what is the real story? Will go on a diet free of gluten improve your health or help you lose weight? The answer is that it depends. Reduce the intake of gluten means you agree to dispense with a lot of starches and refined carbohydrates, and this in itself can help in your weight and health. Eating gluten-free, however, is a must for those with celiac disease, who face a real risk of eating gluten.

What is gluten?

Gluten is a protein found in wheat, barley and rye products. Containing gluten, most types of grain and bread. Examples of grain-free gluten include wild or brown rice and quinoa, millet, buckwheat and amaranth.
What is not known widely on the gluten-free products is that they still contain the same number of carbohydrates that contain gluten counterparts. In this regard, and there is no health benefit for the selection of gluten-free versions.
For example, a typical slice of bread free of gluten contains 15 grams of total carbohydrates - the same amount of ordinary slice of bread. A snack of biscuits free from gluten containing 30 grams of carbohydrates per meal, the same as the regular crackers.

President Wishnack's Analog Computer

first thing's first: my right arm was nearly lopped off at work by a rather large board-cutter.

luckily i am half-japanese and move quickly.

but this is the fourth or fifth time i've nearly died or been severely injured in the recent months. it's getting a little old. and this particular near-accident reminded me of a smarter me. or a more prepared me, anyway.

a me, perhaps, who i've commonly deemed ravishingly aimless and retarded; the me that i've been trying to get away from, oddly enough.

see, before moleskines, college, and san francisco, i always carried a yellow legal pad. during those days, i drew gimptard comics and wrote mostly about why marijuana should be smoked by everyone.

back then, i was a tv-exploding pot-dealer and openly immoral with nearly everything i did-- but i was also much more productive artistically. and i knew what i knew.

and what most of you don't know is at the end of 2004 i promised to teach myself to write and draw with my left hand.

it might have been marijuana and mushrooms induced paranoia, or it might've just been gimptard-related guilt, but i had an increasing worry that i would one day lose my right arm and never be able to draw again. and that, for me, would be worse than death. especially since i would also never be able to properly masturbate again.


a few people referred to my interest in left-handed drawings as a waste of time. and i got a lot of standard, "if you spent half as much time working as you do dicking about..." judgmental rambles.

but it made me feel a step closer to being a superhero. and that will always win me over.

it's just one of those FACTS i know about myself, whether or not i like it.

so i continued.


you have no idea how serious i was about my ambidextrous training sessions. if i lost my right arm and couldn't draw, gimptard comics would've ended. gimptard was my illegitimate lovechild in those days. and, besides, losing my arm would've all been way, way too cheeky.

Indie-webcomic artist loses his arm while drawing demeaning images of handicaps.

ultimately, i ended the comic on my own. but i took those left-handed days so seriously i'd almost thought about opening a new comic drawn entirely with the left.


that was all years ago. but today, after nearly losing my right arm, i feel like the really MATURE guy in the movie who learns something from the IDIOT. i think maybe it happened in the john malkovich version of of mice an men, but i'm sure it happened in several movies either way.

and i'm sure i need to get back in touch with my left hand.

[insert second masturbation joke here.]

Monday, March 28, 2011

Guess Which Aspiring Author I've Interviewed Now Has a Book Deal!

Lookie lookie at what was printed in the deals column over at Publishers Weekly!


Rights sold for debut author Demitria Lunetta's IN THE AFTER, the first in a post-apocalyptic YA trilogy set in a near future where Earth has been overrun by vicious, predatory creatures. Seventeen-year-old Amy thinks that she and the toddler she rescued from a desolate grocery store are the only humans left alive-until they find refuge in a survivors' colony called New Hope. But as Amy is drawn deeper into its secrets, she comes to realize that all is not what it seems. And the dark truth she uncovers about this brutal new world will change everything.

Maria Gomez of Harper Teen acquired World English, in a pre-empt, from Katherine Boyle at Veritas Agency. Author Demitria Lunetta has resigned from her job as a receptionist to write full-time.


In the After is scheduled for a summer 2012 release

Make sure to wish Demitria all the best over on her blog! I'll be sure to share my review when the time comes. And if you missed it the first time around, be sure to check her aspiring author interview.


Congrats again Demitria!

Dear Scientists and Doctors

"what do you call a medical student who graduated at the bottom of their class?

a doctor."


my uncle told me that one. i like it.

see, according to your statistics, my drinking and smoking habits will shave anywhere between ten and fifteen years off my life. and, if my childhood was ever considered traumatic, i'll lose another twenty years. then, because of pollution, i can subtract a maximum of ten more years. lack of regular [or eight nightly hours of] sleep loses me a good three years, too. also, eating red meat increases my chances of heart disease by a healthy 50%.

that's kind of a horrible thing to tell someone-- isn't it? no wonder dr. doom, dr. alchemy, dr. octopus, dr. sivana, and dr. strange were all super-villains.

if all of this is true-- and the average male lives to the age of 75-- it means i have a fantastic chance of heart disease, and will die sometime between next year and the time i'm 39.

maybe i should really cut back on my childhood trauma since it's doing more than smoking, drinking, and lack of sleep combined.

man.

good thing i'm immortal.

- president wishnack

p.s. you killed my father, now prepare to die.

O Hai, I'm Back 4 Today

following in the style of saturday, sunday was a rather accidental day. everything i had planned fell apart and everything i wound up doing was entirely by chance. good thing i bought a planner.

in the morning 1:00pm hour, i received texts from two people-- my little sister, and colin.
hey so ma has my money right now and she's not home, so i dono i might not make it.

nah it looks like a definite no go... sorry.
those were from my sister, not colin, and it meant i wouldn't get to hang out with her after all. sometimes i feel like having a planner has only made me more disappointed when people run into chaos that prevents written plans from playing out. but it happens.


"they're more like guidelines anyway."

but colin [former co-worker, current friend, and senior tour bus driver] texted me shortly after to say this:
mr. president, i need a tour guide for a special charter. how you feelin?
i looked at my planner, then my blog title "chaos, nonsense & tourists", and then my laundry.

fuck it.

it was that classic scene from the movies: we need a guide and you're the only one who knows all of the routes!

i called him back.

"just let them know it's going to be a bit like looking at a woodshop project before it's been sanded and lacquered. you know, it's supposed to be a giraffe, but you might think it's a llama."

i put on my old tour guiding outfit-- three-piece suit with the goofy red tie and faded red converse. but it felt wrong. so i switched out the tie for a skinny black, and shoes with my purple chucks. i don't work for city sightseeing-- this one is my own costume.


once i had the mic in my hand i was surprised at how much i still remembered. it's not exactly like riding a bike, but perhaps familiar as sex with an ex-girlfriend-- minus the emotional drama.

i think i've wanted to give another tour since the day i left the job. it was unarguably the job for me-- the best job to ever exist. i was paid to do a mixture of stand up comedy and san francisco history lessons. i loved the microphone even though it left funny black marks on my chin, and i loved the tourists even when they hated me. i loved the audience. and i loved dodging the low-flying branches of the english sycamores.

i loved it all except the management.

occasionally, i'll hop on a double-decker as a means of saying hi while being transported. and every time, the driver will joke, "why don't you guide the rest of this one," and they'll always point out the empty tip jar.

and i'd always decline.

i don't know why i finally say yes. maybe it was because my day had been suddenly freed. maybe it was because colin asked and he was always my favorite driver. and maybe it was only a matter of time before i had to give another tour. but whatever the reason, i did it.

and it felt great. the wind in my ridiculous hair, the feel of surfing 14 feet in the air, the guests interacting and throwing in their own jokes as we tumbled down whichever road. it was like dreaming that fleetwood mac never existed, and then waking up to find out they totally do exist and i have rumors on vinyl.

around the california academy of sciences, theresa hopped on hoping for a ride downtown. she used to guide tours back when i did-- but similarly found a new job-- and she had no idea i'd be guiding this particular adventure. it was a sensual coincidence.

joel drove by in a different double-decker at that moment, too. he'd switched companies since the last time i'd see him. we both double-took each other, and waved.

and for a moment, it felt like a great big reunion. colin, theresa, joel, and me. like it was. like it was without any of the problems, but all of the fun.

in the end, we split tips and i walked out with $77, handshakes and back-pats. i resisted the money at first, because i'd only given the tour to see colin and for the adventure-- but once i noticed it was quickly passing $50, i felt a fool not to snatch it up quick.

sunday, as accidental as it was, was the first day in a long while, that made this blog nearly accurate in title.

chaos, nonsense & tourists - by president wishnack: the legend, the rumor, the menace, the functioning alcoholic tour guide of san francisco.

and i still made it home in time to meet with irene, draw a few fat cats, and harass her with poems about my penis.

all in all, this was one very haphazardly productive weekend.

Aspiring Author Interview with Lindsay Cummings

Let's start off with something simple. Who are you?

Well, I'm Lindsay Cummings. 19. Blonde with pink/blue in my hair. Left-handed. Christian. Shoe size- 8. Social Security Number is....just kidding. =] I'm a 19 year old writer with Chronic Fatigue Syndrome (author Laura Hillenbrand has this). I write full-time, read, go to writer's conferences, and blog! I also have a strange love affair with my german shepherd, who listens to me WAY more intently than my boyfriend. =]

Could you tell us a little bit about your work in progress? 

Absofreakinlutely! It's a YA Dystopian about a girl who learns she can throw her vision around corners and obstacles. She uses that skill to uncover the secrets behind the disappearances of the outcasts in a world that is completely surrounded by titanium walls. The only problem is... she's next to disappear.

What is the first story you remember writing? What was it about?

It was called Lazynessle. I was in third grade, and it was my own "lazy monster's" autobiography. Weird, I know. =]

Are you more of a “plotter” or a “pantser”?

Definitely a pantser! My characters are real people to me. They live, love, laugh, get into trouble, make themselves look stupid. I let them take the story where they want it to go. And often times, they totally surprise me!!!

All writers need encouragement. Who first encouraged you to write, and who is it that encourages you today?

My father! He is a double amputee without his legs, and an AMAZING writer! He is my complete hero. He's also a kick-butt editor who makes me cry at times with his critical honesty (love you dad) but also helps me take my stories to completely new levels. He's querying his novel right now as well!

Which authors have had a significant influence on your writing?

Oh, where to begin?! First off, my dad. That's a given. But I'd have to say JD Salinger. When he died, I wore black to school and was melodramatic all day. Literally.

What music, if any, do you enjoy listening to while you write? 

The soundtracks to Twilight, New Moon, and Eclipse! And I am SO not afraid to admit that! =]

What are your greatest strengths and weaknesses as a writer?

Strength--obsessing about writing to the point where my word count goal gets done every day. Weaknesses-- obsessing about my writing to the point where I get upset at myself if it's not done right! I'd also have to say that my CFS helps me as a writer, by allowing me to escape from my body and enter new, inventive worlds. So I guess that could be a strength as well.

What do you hope to achieve with your writing?

Oh gosh. There are so many things. I want to change the word. No, not really. I want to be proud of myself! That's really all there is to it. Sure, if I don't get pubbed I will be disappointed. But I write because, without it, I wouldn't be ME!

What was once traditionally a print medium is now rapidly branching out into many digital formats. What do you think of this trend?

Times change! My parents used to have a cell phone in a huge bag..now we have Iphones and touch screen computers. We should just go with it! It might take us somewhere great!

What was the last sentence that you had to re-read over and over again because of its awesomeness? What struck you about it?

I'll get back to you when I can narrow that down! There are so many fabtastic authors out there, I can't just pick ONE sentence! =] But, as a hint, I'll say it's probably from a Dystopian or scifi novel. YA all the way!

What book(s) have you recently read that you would recommend to the readers of this blog? 

Delirium by Lauren Oliver. She rocks, you guys. Also 13 reasons why. It's a tear-jerker, but a life-changer.

What advice do you have to other aspiring authors out there? 

please don't give up. PLEASE. Writing is hard. But it's also a way of life!

An apocalypse destroys the entirety of human literature, apart from the work of three authors that you can magically save with your wizardry--what do you save from imminent destruction? 

oh...my...gosh. First, I curl into the fetal position and pray to the God of literature that Harry Potter is safe. Then, I take my Nook and german shepherd..and boyfriend and surfboard...and run. Like you said earlier, there's a new trend going on with ereaders. My Nook holds every book I could ever need. --takes Nook, holds it out in front of me while wearing a shiny dress. Waves other hand delicately to draw eyes to Nook--Take that,  apocalypse!! (Barnes and Noble should pay me for that free infomercial I just gave them!)

Our time is at an end. For our curious readers, how can we follow your progress?

I blog! Visit me! http://lindsaycummingsblog.blogspot.com/ Follow me, and I will follow you back! I love meeting new people! =] I also tweet @lindsaycwrites

For other aspiring authors out there, keep writing! We can all hold a joint book signing someday. =]

***Are you an aspiring author willing to do an interview for my little blog? If so, click here.***

Sunday, March 27, 2011

The Space Between & Other Things

i left the apartment to get out of the apartment. there is nothing profound about that statement-- but it's important to know i didn't leave with plans beyond getting out of the damn place.

and, as it would happen, my upstairs neighbor was doing something of the same.

he and i decided to wander out toward a delectable secret i'd stumbled across during a delivery a few weeks back.

just at the end of montgomery street, where the financial district pukes up the start to north beach and no ones knows if they should be drinking or filing, there is the space between: an overlooked flat-iron directly across from the scientology headquarters.

their boarded windows are mostly decorated with graffiti that screams the same magical and lovely messages as refrigerator art-- flowers and robots and birds and things, done by shaky but passionate hands. victims of the future, says one red monster on a lime-green board. the main doors have been replaced by plywood playing cards: the six of hearts, diamonds, and spades. and their own website refers to their happening as "unreliably staffed and unpredictably open."


their wall-art is self-described as "A spanking new Spray Paint, House Paint, Kid Paint, Found Paint Mural featuring urban florabunda mingling happily with rainstorm decay and autumnal rebirth." and i am not even going to try and eclipse that delicious concoction of words with my own. i am just going to nod my head and agree.

we nosed around the edges, while snapping photos and occasionally being pestered by a trenchcoated scientologist who'd jaywalked over to preach. but the gallery was closed. in some ways it was open-- if you agree the entire building is an art piece-- but the doors were closed and we couldn't enjoy the guts within.

"helloooooo?" the phone asked joyously.

"helloooooo!" i said back, "i'm outside of the space between and was wondering when you guys would be around and open."

"oh you're out there right now?"

"yeah, i read that you're not always open. but i had to check it out-- i'd passed by earlier in the week and was solidly intrigued."

"oh no way!" the phone said, "i'm usually there on weekdays, but you know what? come by on the 10th-- we're having a party. i'll be there: i've got a big huge beard and i wear a hat. say hi to me."

"totally!" i agreed, "the place looks awesome. i'll definitely be there."

"it's going to be great," he continued, "we'll have a jazz band and my friend is going to read some of his writings. but hey, sorry to leave you hanging out there!"

"oh, no, it's more adventurous this way. peace out man!"

i told my neighbor and scribbled it all down in my planner. i think we both agreed that arriving to find the gallery closed didn't sound so awful after being alerted of the gallery party coming.


we'll be back.

from there we climbed our way to the 48th floor of the nearby mandarin oriental-- the very top of the third tallest building in the city-- took some pictures and tried to charm the concierge.


apparently there is a balcony on the 40th floor that holds THE REAL DEAL. but no matter how many push-ups i offered to do, what forms of identification cards we left, and which names i dropped, the concierge refused to let us to that floor.

another time. another time.

so we swung by pearl's deluxe burgers to eat some good meat and call it a day.

i have to say i'm glad my apartment was feeling rather unaccommodating that morning. i was only headed to have a smoke, and maybe a coffee. but i'm happy i ran into my neighbor and we got to do a little bit of casual exploring. we got a lot in all before 6pm.

i dare say, if you put me at the top of a fancy skyscraper, stuff a great burger down my throat, and invite me to an art gallery party, you will see one happy me who really needs a cigarette and a trip to the restroom.

the end.

p.s. check out the space between's flickr. and perhaps if you stop by their gallery party on april 10th, you'll see me there and we can high-five. eh? eh? kbye.

The Viking by Lars Frederiksen and the Bastards

This song helped me through some tough times many years ago (which I still feel vulnerable admitting even years after the fact). The Viking is truly a beautiful piece of work, and Lars' emotional honesty has certainly earned my respect. 

The song and lyrics are below.


Well how do you do?
My name is Lars
  I'm from Cambell California
You might know that by now
I'm of danish decent
For that I'm proud
See my father was a nomad
I haven't seen him for awhile
Lost a brother
Still got a mother, I aint motherless
For some of you out there
That might be hard to believe
See I've been up and I've been down
I've smiled and I've frowned
I've made every gesture
That a young man can steal
And I know that I'm married to the sea
Well I know I'm married to the sea
You see some people are locked down
And some are free
But I know that I'm married to the sea

Well I've been rich, I've been poor
Spent it all on whores
Got married and divorced to the girl that's next door
Stolen fast cars, dated pop stars
Been around the world
Slept with underage women
Turned tricks for a thrill
Tried suicide but didn't die
Well I'm here to tell
  I don't know a heaven
But I've made peace with hell
Been shot at, been stabbed
Been beaten up real bad
Survived everything without being killed

And I know I'm married to the sea
And I know I'm married to the sea
Some people are locked down
Some are free
And I know I'm married to the sea

Slept in fancy hotels, eaten from garbage cans
Down every highway I grew into a man
Seen my best friend die right before my eyes
Aborted a baby and shed all my tears
Been strung out on pills, slammed my share of dope yea
  I drank all your booze man and I snorted your coke
I've been loved, I've been hated
To me it's all the same
Embraced by a lover, you're cursing my name

And I know I'm married to the sea
And I know I'm married to the sea
Some people are locked down man
And some are free
And I know I'm married to the sea

And I know I'm married to the sea
And I know I'm married to the sea
Some people are locked down sugar
And some are free
And I know I'm married to the sea

I'm married to the sea
You see that great big ocean?
Well that's for me
Sorry ladies, I'm married to the sea
I'm married to the sea
I'm married to the sea

But I'm free
Yeah, I'm free

Saturday, March 26, 2011

Dear Naps

when i was a littler version of me, i never wanted you. i needed you, but i didn't want you.

i took you anyway.

then, when i was a teenager i went without you and without sleep as often as possible. but i was also being pumped full of pubic-testosterone and woodshop classes.

when i was nineteen, i would've never found myself saying, "i'm just going to stay in saturday and catch up on some sleep."

i wouldn't have respected me if i heard him say that.

"if i saw myself dressed like that, i'd have to kick my own ass" - happy gilmore - 1996

but now, naps, now things are different.

i don't know if it was the invention of the cell phone, or the stiffness of my bones that stopped me from jumping off buildings or rolling down cement staircases. but i know there are times i desperately need you, naps.

it could be like when i was a kid.

i need you bad. and every day that passes, i'm growing less and less ashamed of it.


so maybe sometime this weekend, you and i can catch up. we'll put on moon safari like the old days, and i'll have you, naps; i want to visit your land of nod, and taste you in my subconscious. aw naps, imma take you so hard i'll wind up sleeping the entire night.

and i'll regret it in the morning.

but i want you, naps. and i don't care what people say-- i'm going to have you.

bedroom-eyesly,
president wishnack

A Call Out for More Aspiring Authors!

Folks, I've had amazing feedback to the dozen aspiring author interviews we've had so far. The only problem is I have now run out of interviewees!

I make a plea that any aspiring author willing to brave some questions about their journey sign up on this page, and I'll send out your questionnaire as soon as I can.

This is a wonderful opportunity to share yourself with others within our community. I encourage you to sign up if you haven't already!

Audiobooks Now Downloadable Directly Onto Your Kindle

(Source: Graeme McMillan of TIME)

No longer will you have to dig out those USB cables to ensure your audio books are available on your Kindle. Audible has announced that more than 50,000 of its audiobooks are now available for Kindle owners to download via WiFi. For those who need a little convincing that audiobooks are worth spending time and money on, Audible is ready to sweeten the deal, offering a 30-day free trial of AudibleListener Gold Membership along with two free audiobooks for signing up. Personally, I'd go for Sarah Vowell's new one, Unfamiliar Fishes, for the list of readers alone (John Hodgman, John Slattery, Ed Norton and Keanu Reeves? Together?), but that's just me.

Friday, March 25, 2011

7:00 PM

i went straight for my fridge when i got home. whiskey was inside. i noticed one bucky ball stuck to the door and that made me laugh. i grabbed the whiskey, sat down at my computer and turned on a little bit of sam cooke-- work had him ingrained in my head. it was one of those days.
Hello Steven Wishnack,

Just thought you'd like to know Omar Koukaz sent you $10.00 USD.
well, no kidding, paypal.

i had thought the craigslist conversation was just a bored stranger. but that was real.

at the time, i thought the $10 gift was proof i had dreamt the entire day. but when i checked my pockets for trash and found my boss' credit card, i realized i was probably still dreaming.

and that's about when i decided to start writing about the day. before i forgot it all.


this is how the day felt. and i don't know if that's good or bad.

thursday was just weird.

6:05 PM

i closed the shop at lightning speed, said some rushed goodbyes, and ran out the door just in time to receive a phone call from an unknown number.

"hi, my name is omar," they explained, "and you responded to a craigslist ad a few months ago."

"oh?" i asked, "what was the ad regarding?"

"well," he said, "it was regarding craigslist ads. and what you think of them. do you have a moment?"

are you kidding me?

"sure," i said, "i'm just walking home. hit me."

so we proceeded to discuss the success [or lack of success] involved in posting craigslist ads, the missed connections section, meeting strangers online, and a small amount about what it's like to be absolutely broke and live off craigslist.

it felt more like i was talking to a friend than anything else, and throughout the entire conversation i wasn't sure where we were headed-- or why we were headed where ever it was we were headed.

and then it ended.

"so where can i send you $10?" he asked.

"uh," i said, "you can paypal it to me."

that was weird.

4:35 PM

one of the reasons i was hired was so my assistant manager didn't have to work ten-hour shifts five days a week-- we were meant to swap back and forth. on some nights i would work ten and he would work eight, and vice versa.

that usually never happens.

but on wednesday, he left at 5pm-- promising i could leave at 5pm thursday in return. in my mind, i remembered the time he left at 3pm and promised a similar thing only to call in sick the next day and leave me there till 6pm with double the work-load.

"am i good to go at 5?" i asked my boss.

"no," he said, "you need to meet with ami-- she won't meet with anyone else. you know that."

i wish i could say she requests me because i'm magical and special, but it's only because she's paranoid and secretive. it took us two weeks to get her phone number and i still don't know what floor her offices are on. i can't even comfortably tell you what company she works for.

i will say these two facts:
1. her company has visitor name-tags that change colors based on how long you've worn them so security knows when they're expired no matter what you say.

2. she has never been on time when we schedule a meeting.
i should've known i wasn't leaving at 5pm.


the pink behind "visitor" is time-released, and reads "EXPIRED"

so, after calling her office line three times and leaving a voice message, i sat awkwardly in the lobby of her hidden headquarters. i called her cell twice and left a message there as well. and then i waited awkwardly some more.

waiting for ami is like waiting for the god damn commercials to end before a movie in theatres.

but, eventually, she came strolling out with her boxes of new documents and we discussed what needed to be done. i sometimes wonder how someone so unpunctual can be so successful. but i'm sure people wonder how someone so unhygienic could be so disease-free when they think of me.

"so we should be all set," she chirped, "can we have the last 200 binders by tomorrow?"

i've been taught to say "of course" no matter what.

"yeah," i said, "probably."

but i don't always do it.

"hey," she continued, "this might be weird..."

oh, i think i know where this is going.

"what's up?"

"you look a lot like keanu reeves."

i do hate hearing that. it's sort of like a polite way of implying i might be as dumb as i look. but, when i'm at work-- at any job-- i'll take a surprising amount of keanu-remarks in great stride. i don't know why.

"whoa," i said.

3:45 PM

"igor," my boss said, "take this order to battery and front street."

igor sighed a sigh that belonged to a nine year-old boy.

"my foot is wet," he groaned.

"it's not going to kill you," my boss said, "just take out this delivery, okay?"

"yes it will," igor continued, "you don't know me."

yep. that happened. and that's all i have to say.

oh, and also: igor is forty-something.

We Need to Make Books Cool Again


"We need to make books cool again. If you go home with somebody and they don't have books, don't fuck them." - John Waters

3:00 PM

kelly got her stickers, my boss calmed down, and the drenched hipster came by to pick up his bike lock even though it would only be as useful as a wallet during the great depression. and in some ways, the world was back at peace.

"this is not what i ordered," my boss said as he finally opened his barbacco bag.

it was at peace for a moment, anyway.

"i ordered the shrimp sandwich and they gave me duck," he said.

when i first met my boss, he criticized the amount of calories in a white mocha and i took the entire conversation as small talk. it wasn't. he's borderline obsessive compulsive about calories in the same way he's obsessive compulsive about wet-wiping the telephones. when he says, "i'm going to treat myself" it means he's going to have four california rolls and ignore how many carbs they include.

the duck sandwich was too greasy for his taste and certainly not as healthy as shrimp.

"this is ridiculous," he moaned, "duck. duck! i ordered shrimp."

"hey," i said, "it's like ordering fucking chinese food."

i caught him smile. he tried to hide it as soon as it crawled across his face, but i saw it while it lasted and that was enough for me.

"well," he said, "it looks like you're having duck for lunch. it's all yours, steven."

score.

back at peace again.

1:45 PM

once the phones came back to life and the douchebag who accused us of being "like ordering chinese food" realized he was wrong, things calmed down a bit. and because the day was relatively slow, i took my spare time to research whether or not the sea lion was still a mammal or if there was any legitimacy to the whole "insect" claim.

there wasn't. they're mammals.

and also MLA format still requires two spaces after a period. just most people don't care about MLA format.

i opened my mouth to tell my boss about my factual discoveries, but i could tell by his face and the phone in his hand that i should keep comedy to a minimum and ready serious-me for some action.

"kelly didn't get her order," my boss said as he hung up the phone.

"what do you mean?" i asked, "the delivery guy picked it up in the morning."

"call him," he said, "because she never got it."

a part of me wondered how important it was that she ever received her 1,500 stickers which read "CAUTION: DO NOT USE MAGNETIC NAMETAG IF YOU ARE USING A PACEMAKER", but i suppose lawsuits are abound. and a bigger part of me wondered how she never received the package.

"hi," i told the phone, "we had a delivery picked up this morning and it still hasn't arrived. i wanted to check the status on that."

"ohh," the phone said, "yeah. our guy had his bike stolen and he's been running the rest of his deliveries by bus. it's on its way, though."

"but this was a very urgent order," i explained, "i could've taken the bus there myself."

"he had his bike stolen," the phone continued, "i don't know what else to tell you except that it's on its way."

and then it hit me.

"you know what," i said, "he left his bike lock here this morning. damn. man, that just sucks."

when i got off the phone i wasn't sure who i felt worse for: my boss, our client, or the soaked hipster. i think, perhaps, the hipster-- losing his fixie probably felt like jack sparrow losing the black pearl.

"what did they say?"

"his bike was stolen. he's taking the bus."

"my god," my boss whined, "this is fucked. it's fucked."

"well," i said, "not that it's any consolation, but sea lions are still mammals-- i looked it up."

"steven," he said through his teeth, "shut up."

1:00 PM

i've never eaten at barbacco, and so my opinion of the place is entirely based on smell and sight. and it is commonly crowded with an overwhelming number of business people, and an equally overwhelming smell of too much fish. thursday was no exception.



objects in restaurant are more chaotic than they appear.

"hi," i said, "i'm here for a pickup."

i sniffed the air: too much fish again.

"okay," the host said, "under what name?"

"YOU'RE JOKING," a business man screamed, "it's got to be MY hotel umbrella!"

the host and i looked over to see a furious man, tossing through all the umbrellas by the door-- occasionally mumbling, "nope!" or "can't believe this" and looking to see if anyone had noticed him.

"i think it's under my name," i said, "steven."

"SOMEONE JUST COMES IN HERE AND STEALS MY HOTEL UMBRELLA!"

what the hell is going on in this city?

"and do you have your frequent diner card?" the host pretended nothing was going on.

"ABSOLUTELY IMPOSSIBLE! IT WAS MY HOTEL UMBRELLA. JUST STEAL IT! YEAH, OKAY, STEAL IT!"

for a brief moment, i wondered whether or not the man had any right to complain about having an umbrella stolen that was not technically his. even if he called it his, it still belonged to the hotel.

but i did my best to under-think everything and keep the event an in and out adventure.

"...i don't," i mumbled, "i'd just like to pick up the food... and get back to work."

"not a problem at all."

"OH, AND NOW I'LL GET ALL WET. WONDERFUL."

i think that experience is when i realized i am immeasurably more afraid of a business-suited man going berserk than any form of homeless man in any part of san francisco. i almost wanted to give the man my umbrella-- except it wasn't mine, it was my boss'. and i had to get out of that restaurant immediately.

Alessandra Ambrosio

















Alessandra Ambrosio was born in April 11, 1981 in Erexim and Brazil. A Brazilian supermodel. Began her modeling career when she decided to take modeling lessons in Brazil. And of course led to their participation in the look of elite competition in the year 1996, which eventually led to her contract with Elite Model Management.
Alessandra Ambrosio was part of a flood of models that have emerged after the Brazilian supermodel Gisele Bundchen opened the door. One of the models star of that group, of the form that Victoria's Secret colleague (and best friend) Ana Beatriz Barros members, and "5'10, light Ambrosio Brown Hair accumulated quite a career in the late 1990's in the next century. I was born in Erechim Ambrosio, Brazil, a small town in the south. as in their early teens, then joined in the category of modeling and then entered in the search 1996 and Elite modeling agency of the Year competition. Although she had not won, and offered to hold the elite after one year.
Was her first job modeling the cover of Marie Claire Brazilian, and Ambrosio followed with other editorial work, but it was not long after that occurred in Marcianos guess Ambrosio to fall Millennium campaign in 2000. She began her career with being a profitable print Guess? Wife and continued with secret deals with Revlon and Victoria. Ambrosio walked the runway for the first time in 2000 and continued to be a fixture in subsequent shows. And was also selected to be the spokesmodel for the line Ambrosio Pink 2004 by Victoria's Secret.
As for the walking fashion shows, Alessandra has a platform for designers such as Laura Biagiotti, Christian Lacroix, Byblos, Fendi, Issey Miyake, Kenzo, Christian Dior, Nicole Miller, Oscar de la Renta, and others. Guess? The company is not only to see the beauty of Alessandra. Also has contracts with Revlon cosmetics, Gap (as of late), and is expected to appear in ads for Calvin Klein eyewear and Giorgio Armani. You may have noticed, who caught the Victoria's Secret fashion show in Cannes on the Internet Alessandra in the show, the cast of basic goods in the line of underwear, Tyra Banks and Stephanie Seymour.
While the Brazilian beauty was once a girl elite, transformed and agencies and is now Marilyn Gaultier. Although her modeling career is on the rise, Alessandra plans to get a university degree. When it's not modeling, she spends time with her model / club promoter boyfriend of two years and a half, Jason Lee), and although it emotionally compatriot Marcelo model Boldrini). She enjoys the sand and lounging on the beach listening to Brazilian music.
The place of choice in the world is still small hometown, and having traveled the world has not convinced her otherwise. When not in her apartment in New York or busy building a house in her native Brazil, Alessandra left its mark all over the world with the International Organization for the covers of magazines, through advertising campaigns and large fashion designer league.
In this country that seems to breed beautiful women, and there must be something in the water of Brazil. The supermodel's most popular out of the country, South America, Gisele Bundchen, but the beauty long legs and her back with the best Watch Alessandra Ambrosio well on its way.

Arnold Palmer Invitational





Having suffered in Round 1 of 2011 invited Arnold Palmer, it's Tiger Woods of the scoring in the second round at Bay Hill. After the ghost on the third hole, put together the Bretton ghost-free operation, which included four birds. Is now 2 - under for the championship and to near the top of the leaderboard.
Talk about the summit, and Spencer Levin, sitting alone there in 7 - under for the tournament. Built on its strong 6-1 in the round with 1 under - under the second round. Close behind is Steve Levine Marino, followed by a group of players on 2 and 3 - under par.
Many of the big name golfers in the field did not start after the second round, including Phil Mickelson, published on 2 - under in the opening round, and Bubba Watson, who also sits on 2 - under par.
My Ping in TotalPing.com