26/100: Commercial Break

Day 26: Watch any 30-second commercial online or on TV. Describe the character dynamics and its narrative, then write a short fiction piece from the perspective of one of the characters. How does this exercise help humanize the talking heads? Do they feel more or less real than before? Length: 350 Words

This one was fun.  As one of my favorite commercials of all-time, "Darth Vader Kid" really struck a chord when it aired, as such a simple idea that had all the pieces come together so perfectly.  It was so well written, without even using a single word. I can't decide who I enjoy more, the child who so desperately wants to harness the power of the force, or the father that enjoys a mischievous connection with his imaginative son. Honestly, I almost forgot that it was a Volkswagon commercial.

Darth Vader Kid: The Force - "Hobbes the Dog"

This kid. All day with this kid. I mean, I get it. Darth Vader was pretty cool.  And being able to control things with my mind would be a handy gift for a dog to have. I'd definitely pass myself a few more treats throughout the day than what these two knuckleheads are giving me now. Those bacon strips, ...beggin' strips? I can never understand them when they talk. Just use the word "treat." I get that one.

Oh, look. speaking of treats, here comes one walking in now. And, it looks like the Darth Vader schtick has finally gotten retired. That makes sense, it lasted a lot longer than Indiana Jones and Spiderman. Definitely a lot longer than Jack Sparrow...that began to wear a little thin. So what is this now, Thor? Oh, this ought to be good. He's got a hammer, great. I can't wait to see what he breaks next. Oh man, I hope it's that glass jar of cookies on the counter.  Yeah, kid...go Thor-up that big jar of deliciousness. Hobbes is hungry.

He is a fascinating child, though. I often wonder how long his imagination will hold until the inevitable exposure to the burdens of adulthood begin to creep though and the innocence of youth slowly disappears. I wonder if I'll still be around to see that transition.  I'm not sure I would want to, I think. I enjoy this time of his life. I find that, watching his ideas and personality grow exponentially with the passing of each day offers a bit of a reward for these aging bones. The essence of youth in some ways, has turned out to be suspiciously contagious, as I feel younger in his presence now than I had when he wasn't as active, and barely crawling. Does that in fact mean one lives longer by harnessing the energy of those he choses to surround himself with? I suppose, the evidence provides as such, but such a hypothesis could never be completely proven.

In the meantime, I suppose I will just have to continue enjoying his company. All twenty versions of it.

25/100: Rant

Day 25: This is a chance for you to let go. What is one product or thing that you hate with a passion, and why do you hate it? Do you feel more confident writing now that you have a particular target in mind? Length: 500 Words

I know, I know...I've abandoned this for a while.  Instead of making it to 100 days of anything, I dropped off at 25.  I literally couldn't even make it a quarter of the way there. Honestly, it's not realistic these days as life tends to get in the way more often than it used to.  That's not a bad thing, because life is fairly grand right now, but can also get a bit draining when you have an urge to create and your schedule doesn't always seem to want to allow it.  So here, we've arrived at the rant: 500 words of something I hate.  Which, in all honesty, was a reasonable place to halt me in my tracks, because I don't really hate anything. Though, I will proceed to describe something that has recently gotten under my skin to the point of extreme frustration.


"You Can't Do That."

What? Go fuck yourself. Seriously. Go down to the river, find a nice little quiet spot, somewhere romantic and tranquil, a peaceful place, then bend yourself over, stick a dildo up your ass, or any other hole you're able to find down there, and fuck yourself. Make it violent. Don't hold back. Do it until you bleed, then continue to fuck yourself until chaffing sounds like a pleasant sensation.  Afterwards, proceed to jump in the river and drown yourself. That way, I never have to hear your bullshit negativity again.

I can't do that? I can't do, what? Go back to school? Move my happy ass to Amsterdam? Hike to the summit of Kilimanjaro?  Fuck you. It's my life and I can do whatever the hell I want.

I know...aggressive. I get it. However, I've worked too hard in my life and taken too many risks and chances to know that I can do whatever I put my mind to. I'm a dreamer, I'll admit, but I tend to follow through on my dreams, at least the ones that really matter. Those dreams have gotten me this far, and I have to say, I'm pretty damn happy with the results. Life has never been easy for me. Things come my way because at some point, I decided I was going to accomplish something wild and unprecedented among my friends and peers. Some of those friends told me I was crazy, that I would fail. And in some ways, I did. I failed at first, but kept picking myself back up until I found my way. That's life, and my life has made me a better person for it.

Recently, I've been thinking about the career I've begun to build and what's really important to me. Currently, I work in an agency that build digital experiences. My role here deals significantly with the connections people are making with technology and how they behave and interact with technological growth. Psychology and understanding those behaviors are a huge part of my job, and in many instances, a part of my role that I have to guess at. It's actually fairly fascinating to explore people's relationships with technology and use those insights to build experiences with psychological markers in mind. This has led me to consider the option of returning back to school, specifically for a Masters or even a Doctorate in Psychology with a focus on innovational impacts.  And recently, I was told by someone close to me that I couldn't do this, that it was unrealistic. Never-mind that it could open the door to a world of new opportunities. Fascinating ones, at that.

Don't tell me I can't do something. Don't tell me I'm incapable or that it's unrealistic, because I will work even harder to make it happen. I will prove you wrong. I will carve my own path. Either support me, or stay out of my way. I have no room for negativity in this life. Not anymore. End rant.

24/100: Twitter Feed

Day 24: Write ten tweets from the perspective of the main character of a major novel or play? What does Jay Gatsby tell cyberspace that he might not tell us? How would this affect gossip and intrigue in a Jane Austen novel? 

Length: Ten 150-character-or-less tweets

23/100: Translator Collar

Day 23: Imagine you receive a pet collar that can translate everything a pet thinks. Using a cat, dog, chameleon, or whatever pet of your choosing, write a two-page dialogue where you communicate with them. Do they say anything beyond the food they like, and why? Length: two-page dialogue

A Moment with Kino: 

FAMILY ROOM - LATE EVENING

BC:

Hey

KINO THE DOG:

Oh, hey. 

BC:

What are you doing?

KINO THE DOG:

Licking the empty sack where my balls used 

to be. What does it look like?

BC:

Well, stop. You're giving yourself another 

hot spot.

KINO THE DOG:

What? No I'm not. 

BC:

Actually, you are.  I can see it. Knock that 

shit off or it's going to get infected. 

KINO THE DOG:

Ugh, fine.  Just don't take me to the vet 

again, okay?  I can't stand your worrying. 

BC:

Hey bud. I'm just looking out for you. 

KINO THE DOG:

I'm part wolf, remember? So, really...who's 

looking out for who? 

Kino slowly starts to get up. Mild arthritis and 14 years-old in Dog years makes it a bit difficult. 

KINO THE DOG:

Unnnhhh...

BC:

Dude, are you okay?  Do you need some help?

KINO THE DOG:

No, man. I got it.  I'm just as old as dirt. 

BC:

Yeah, I know.  I'm just trying to– 

KINO THE DOG:

Thanks. I appreciate it. I do. I'm just going 

to move my old bones over to your side, where I 

can lay down and silently encourage you to 

scratch my ears and rub my belly. 

BC:

Got it. The passive aggressive approach. 

KINO THE DOG:

Honestly, I'm not sure how I can be any more 

direct. I don't have time for this 'passive 

aggressive BS' in my old age. 

BC:

Good point. Well, make yourself comfortable. 

Relax. I'll give you a belly rub. You 

don't even have to ask. 

Kino lays down next to where BC is sitting and rolls onto his side.  BC starts to rub his chest and belly as Netflix's "Daredevil" switches to the next episode in the background. Minutes pass without either saying a word, until Kino moves to rest his head on BC's thigh. 

KINO THE DOG:

I don't say this enough, but thanks for a great 

fourteen years. 

BC:

Well, that goes both ways. I'm not sure I 

would've made it through 2010 without you.  

KINO THE DOG:

I suppose you're right. That was a real shitty 

year. What was that girl's name again?

  (BC answers him with a stern glare)

But look at you now; Husband. Father. Mentor. 

You built yourself a great little family here.

BC:

It's funny how those things work out, huh? 

KINO THE DOG:

Hysterical. Hopefully they'll be able to continue 

to look after you as well as I have. 

BC:

I think they'll manage. 

KINO THE DOG:

I'm not too worried about it.

 (pause)

Love ya, buddy. 

BC:

Love ya too, bub. 

22/100: Your Own Fashion Show

Day 22: You have to put on a fashion show using only clothing you own. Write down a blurb on 5 different pieces of clothing, telling your audience about the merits and the mystique of each article. How do you effectively convince your audience? Do you think you could make them wear it? Length: 5 short paragraphs

Sporting a brown suede jacket, white button down shirt, grey graphic tee and a pair of rough-hewn blue jeans, Jeff tips his fedora and casually walks down the catwalk towards the blinding snaps of a wall of flashing bulbs.

The jeans are straight-fit levis that have the slightest bit of whitewash to them.  The edges are frayed and worn, as if they've been through the wash more times than one could count.  The waist rides low, following the trends of today's younger generation. Red boxer fabric can be seen through a worn down patch below the left pocket.  The cuffs are rolled up twice above a pair of red high tops.

A slim-fit, medium-sized grey tee is half-tucked into the waist of the jeans.  An old Polaroid logo spreads across the chest, faded away to almost nothing. The fabric looks soft and comfortable.

A white, button-down shirt covers the tee, open in the front, and un-tucked so that the bottom hangs just below the suede jacket.  The collar is lightly starched, so as not to look stiff and boarded, the tips flaring out over his clavicles.

The vintage jacket fits slim and sleek over the layered shirts, it's black lining creating a perfect contrast between the white button-down and the light-brown suede. White stitching patterns sharply line Jeff's slim form. It moves perfectly with him, as if he walked straight out of the frames of Starsky and Hutch.

Perfectly completing the ensemble is a small, straw fedora with a blue band circling its head. The narrow band barely sits above his eye brow.  It is stylish and sleek, yet a fitting tribute to the classic gentlemen of days past.

The bulbs continue to flash as Jeff turns his back to the cameras.  He walks back towards the rear of the stage, confidence following him wherever he goes.

21/100: Reminds Me of This One Saying

Day 21: The next time you hear someone saying a popular expression, write it down. Then, write a short story that disproves the “point” of that expression. How does reality differ from conventional wisdom. Length: 400 words

"You're so full of shit."

Okay, one; I'm not.  I mean, I can sometimes, you know, in the heat of the moment, stretch the truth a bit.  I think everyone tends to do this from time to time in the excitement of the moment, some worse than others.  I would describe myself as landing slightly onto the center of this scale. However, “full of shit,” may be a bit of a stretch, especially by reality’s standards.

We all have “shit” in our system. Feces. Poop. Human waste. It’s in there. And it’s always (ideally) moving along down the tunnel to make its way out.  Interestingly enough, there’s only a small percentage of actual poop that’s in our system at any given time, 5-20lbs of it to be exact.  Considering that I’m 165lbs on average, and that I’m mostly on the lighter range of the weight spectrum, my body is incapable of being composed of no more than 33% and no less than 8.25% of waste at a time. Furthermore, that composition of waste is made up of about 75% of water, the rest being a combination of soluble and insoluble fibers, bacteria (live and dead), other cells and of course, mucus.  That means that at any given time, the actual amount of physical waste existing in my body ranges anywhere from 2.06-8.25%, more likely leaning towards the lower number, as I’m not an exceptionally big eater.

When one thinks of how to define the term “full,” it’s easy to picture a glass of water, filled to the brim, the meniscus seemingly ready to break at any moment. I could not possibly fill up that glass any more, for fear that it would pour over the edges and get everything around it wet. Fortunately for everyone around me, my poop is not designed to behave in such a way.  Scientifically speaking, I’m completely incapable of creating a scenario in which I would be literally full of shit. Unless of course, this was done manually, in which case I would be unlikely to survive such a catastrophe.  I imagine this scenario being carried out by the Cartels as a warning. Note to self: don’t mess with the Cartels.

So next time someone tells you that you’re full of shit, just remember–you’re not.  Not even close. Actually, they’re full of shit for even suggesting that you are, being that they’re off by around 95%. Take that, haters.

20/100: One-Sentence Story

Day 20: Based on the image below, write a one-sentence story. What parts of the image do you pick and what parts are unimportant? Why did you pick the parts you did?  

Consider the most famous example of this prompt, Ernest Hemingway’s six-word heartbreaker: 

For Sale: Baby Shoes, Never Worn

They perished that evening on the ice, cold and exhausted, tethered to one another by a single strand of hope that neither had the strength, or the resolve to pursue.   

----------------------------

For me, the strongest element within this image is the connection between beast and man. The two here may not be emotionally bonded, but the rope represents as much, as well as the lengths one would go to in order to aid the other, in spite of the risks.  That idea spoke out to me, moreso than the literal depiction of an environmentalist in the midst of an animal rescue over thin ice.