Group Writing

I am doing something really fun for me. In case you can’t tell, I love to write. It is fun. It is amazing. It is solitary. Now, I happen to like people. A few of my best friends are people. Some of them are not. I have had many meaningful conversations with the rainstick that casually reclines against the wall across the room. He always wants me to write about rain, but I like him because he never criticizes my work. Most of my friends tend to be imaginary, but I think of them as people, too. There is only so much your imaginary friends can add to a story before it gets monotonous. Seriously, the voice in my head that I used for the serial killer in Shrink always says the same things about killing people with screwdrivers. That voice is almost as bad as the three or four who gave me ideas for demons in Angelcide. (I’m am joking here…or am I?)

When you can get together with someone else and write a story, bouncing ideas off one another, it is truly great for the creative process. Since I work alone most of the time, I thought of something different. What if I get my Facebook friends to help me write a new story? If they pick the topic, then I would have a story to stretch my writing muscles. Who would have thought they would go for a gothic story? Well, they hang out with me so I guess that’s not much of stretch.

Now for the challenge. I wanted to include as many of their thoughts as possible. In this Techno Gothic Tale (yes, that is what I called it), I have been able to work in most of their comments and few of their typos that were really funny. Today, I even managed to add in a mention of a very unusual character one person suggested called the Granola Kid. (He’s a hippy cowboy who likes his chili with tofu. Don’t judge him until you have tried it.)

I really have no clue how this story will end. To be honest, I don’t know what’s happening next. This is scary, challenging, confusing and enlightening. My goal is to create a story that people want to read by letting others guide the story. I’ll keep you posted on how it goes and will probably post it on my Sneak Peeks blog. Still trying to wrap my brain around a hippy cowboy.

Feel free to check out the story in the notes section of my Facebook writer page and toss in a few ideas of your own: https://www.facebook.com/DougRomigWriter

April Fools!

Your shoe is untied. April Fools! You missed a button. April Fools and I flicked your nose when you looked. Your house is on fire! April Fools! No, it really is on fire! Oops. Those of you who have read my blog understand my unusual (to put it kindly) sense of humor. I bet you are all on pins and needles waiting to hear about the pranks someone as creative and twisted as I have come up with for this day. First, why are you sitting on pins and needles? That sounds really silly and painful. Second, you are going to love my prank. It is spectacular in its simplicity.

I have friends who plot and plan, scam and scheme, dig and delve deeply to come up with the right things to say or do to irritate and/or amaze their friends and enemies. They try to concoct the ultimate joke or jest to fool the masses and achieve fame and infamy for this glorious day of tomfoolery. For me that’s a normal day between 9:00am and 9:15am. No big deal.

So do you want to know what I am doing for April Fool’s Day? It is big! I’m talking really, spectacularly monstrous. This April first I am doing something that no one would expect from me. The tension has been building among my friends and family as they all walk around with looks similar to Chief Brody when the shark music would play in Jaws. Da dum, da dum, da dum. This April Fools’ Day I am… being serious. I know. Scary, right?

I called a friend this morning and said for April Fools’ Day I am taking a break from the jokes and pranks. “Today, I am going to be serious.” There was silence on the other end of the line. “Did you hear me? I’m going to be serious today.” The silence was spooky. I was worried that news had caused him to panic, thinking he had crossed over into a parallel universe where everything was reversed in the natural order. Maybe I had caused him to have a heart attack at that shocking news! That would totally suck because no one would believe it on April Fools’ Day. “Are you there?”

“Hold on. I had to check my caller I.D. to make sure I was talking to Doug Romig and not some other Doug. Then I had to look behind me to make sure there wasn’t a snake or something sneaking up on me.” My friends are so weird.

“I mean it. I’m going to be serious on April Fools’ Day. It is time everyone else to act like me and I’ll be normal today.” I felt that I had made a good case and explained my point-of-view clearly and eloquently.

“Uh huh. Right. Nice try, Doug. I’m not letting my guard down. Do you think I was born yesterday?” He was starting to sound a little insane. I considered calling a doctor but remembered what day it was.

“No. I was born yesterday.” It was my birthday. “I mean it. No pranks or jokes at your expense from me today. I’m being good.” After I said it, I realized how crazy that sounded.

Do you remember the Vincent Price laugh at the end of Michael Jackson’s Thriller? That was the sound that came from my friend. “Not falling for it. You won’t catch me that easily!” The laughter continued as he clicked off.

I guess that is my best prank of all. No prank. Be serious. Let my friends go slowly insane waiting for the inevitable that will never come. And the cool part, they know me and will be expecting it for weeks to come.

Am I evil? Muhahahahahahaha!

Bad Drivers

You know who you are. I’m talking to those of you who think you know enough about internal combustion to get behind the wheel of a couple tons of metal, plastic and some other things that I’m not sure have names, and drive on the streets, highways, roads and a few sidewalks. (I saw you, sidewalk-driving lady!) Have you considered the fact that most people think they are above average drivers? That means that above average is now the average which means that those of you who were previously below average are now in the “sucky driver” category and those who refuse to drive are in the “brilliant” category. I’m beginning to think Sheldon on The Big Bang Theory may have a point when he says he is too evolved to drive.

Those who think they are good drivers seem to be the ones who are the worst drivers. I wonder if that means those who think they are not so good drivers may be the ones who really know how to drive. My brain hurts trying to figure it out. Instead, let’s look at a few simple, totally made-up (no matter what my driving record says), examples to help you determine if you are a bad driver, a good driver or an amazing driver.

• If you have never successfully parallel parked, you are a bad driver.
• If you have successfully parallel parked on a busy street, you are a good driver.
• If you have ever parallel parked a bus while juggling hedgehogs on the interstate, you are an amazing driver.

 

• If you do not know how to use a turn signal, you are a bad driver, or at least someone who drives in Knoxville.
• If you use your turn signal when changing lanes, turning, or even before parallel parking, you are a good drive.
• If you can psychically convey to the four drivers behind you that you are going to go around the block and come back to get the parking place that is about to be vacated by the little, blue-haired lady with the walker, and if any of them try to get it before you get back you will recreate the big truck scene from Road Warrior on them; then you are an amazingly scary driver.

 

• If you slam on the brakes a block and a half away because you have no depth perception and thought that red light was right on top of you, then you are a bad driver who probably has several dents in the rear bumper of your car.
• If you carefully apply the brakes, giving proper stopping distance between you and light, and are careful to not allow any portion of your vehicle to enter the crosswalk, then you qualify for sainthood and should speak to Cardinal Ferrari at the Vatican as soon as possible.
• If you roar up to the light, skidding to a stop, causing the Boy Scout helping the old man cross the street to break the scout law about being both clean and reverent, then you are an awesome driver who needs to change his tires on a monthly basis.
  

I hope these have helped you see where you stand in the spectrum of drivers. Now if you will excuse me, I need to go take a drive in my Vette. Chevettes count as Vettes, right?

The Sad Can

I just ate the last few Pringles. Weep with me. It is so sad when you pour those last few

crumbs directly from the can into your mouth. It is so funny when you underestimated the number and size of the crumbs and overestimated the size of your mouth. As many of you will be shocked to learn, I did overestimate my big mouth. (Insert your own joke at my expense here.) After filling my mouth to capacity (I know you’re still laughing about that), the crumbs ended up all over my shirt. I did what any other guy would do when there are no women watching. I made a bowl out of my shirt ate the last of the crumbs. Hey, they’re Pringles! You do what you have to do for your favorite chips or crisps or whatever they are. (I suspect they are really made of pig intestines with potato flavoring. Grossed you out, didn’t I? More for me! Muahahahahaha!!)

That can with the mustached, bowtie-wearing man with the strangely egg-shaped head looks sad to me. Now that really I look at it for the first time, am I the only one who thinks he looks like movie critic Gene Shalit if he wore contacts? Anyway, the Pringles man just looks like he has lost his purpose. No more potato products to protect. Just an empty can that no longer has a treasure trove of munchies. Or is it?

Did you know that a Pringles can has far more uses that you ever imagined? As a kid, my dad and I made a crystal radio out of one. When I say “my dad and I made” what I really mean is he made it and he let me watch so he could tell other people we made it together.

      “Here’s the wire cutters, Dad.”

      “Thanks for the help, Son.”  Was I useful or what?

Beyond that I Googled “Empty uses”, but by the time I got that far Google had “for an empty Pringles cans” as the first choice. Pinterest has over 1,000 followers for Pringles Craft Cans. Where have I been all this time? I’ve been tossing them in the trash when I could be making them into holders for all kinds of stuff. The ones that looked like Fourth of July firecrackers had my interest until I realized there was no real explosive power in them. Then again, that could be my contribution. Does a Pringles can filled with black powder qualify as a pipe bomb? Since I live in town and the ATF was already at my neighbor’s the other day, I think I’ll skip that one. (Yea, I live in THAT neighborhood.)

 

Now that I look it over carefully, the man on the can needs a goatee to go with his mustache. There, now he looks happy. Excuse me but I think he needs a friend. Gotta walk over to the corner market to get an orange can to go with the red. Or clash with the red. Never mind. I tossed it. I just want some more chips. Crisps. Pig intestines. Whatever.