HEYYYYY! Hello, I said!!
Oh, sorry — you trying to get my attention?
Only for the last ten minutes or so. Good mornin’!
Sorry, bit distracted here. I’m trying to figure this damn thing out.
What is it? Maybe I can help.
Wait, almost got it…now, how do I send this tweet?
Oh no, don’t tell me…
Yea, I’m twittering. This is, like, totally fun!
I had no idea how addictive this little program is!
Yes, it appears to be quite popular with the “in” crowd.
What or who is an “in crowd”?
Hollywood. The celebrities. Anyone who needs to feel more important than they really are.
You know, the famous stars who make millions and millions of dollars?
Doing what? Helping others?
Hardly! Oh I’m sure there’s a charity drive or party or function in there somewhere, but usually it’s a five minute appearance, followed by an all night booze and sex fest.
Heh, sounds a bit like Mt. Olympus on any given night. Especially when Bacchus is DJing.
Well, I’m sure someone is screaming “HERCULES” somewhere in Hollywood after another one of those types of parties…wink wink
Back to innuendo?
No, not really. Today I thought we could talk about technology and the writing process.
Ooh, that sounds kinda interesting. Hang on first though, I gotta update my status on Twitter, and check my Facebook page to see if anyone has sent me any of those latest quizzes. I want to know which ancient mythological person I’d be. I’m putting that quiz maker to the test, know what I mean?
You’re on Facebook now too? Geez, you really get around, don’t you?
Ummmm, yea. It’s my job. Hang on a second…
And there she goes…
Okay, back — my Facebook page now says “In multiple relationships”, and I sent the following tweet out to all my peeps:
“RT: @wordly nerdly sitting down, drinking coffee and thinking about technology. BBS. Hugs to my writers!”
Wow. I can’t get over how far you’ve come just in the last two weeks.
Yea, I’m pretty worn out. It’s tough going from one end of the globe to the other —
No, ya dumb ditz — I was talking about how far you’ve come, technology wise.
Technology wise? Huh?
Need more coffee? Or are you too distracted by your shiny new toy to pay attention? SHUT THE DAMN THING OFF AND TALK TO ME.
Okay, but I just got a retwee-
Let’s start over, before we start yelling at one another, okay?
I’m cool with that. Topic again?
I can see you were paying close attention these last several minutes.
Ha ha ha, Ms. Smarty Pants.
Oh, now I get it — if I were to ask you your age right about now, what would you tell me?
Aha! That makes more sense then.
What makes more sense? Like, I am getting so confused!
Exactly. Hey! Didn’t I tell you to put that damn phone down? I hear it vibrating. I’m old, not deaf, ya know.
But, I’m waiting on a very important text to come in…
What is so damn important that you are willing to interrupt this talk?
Care to explain?
Yea, I’m a little bored with this toga thingy I’m wearing. It’s so “BC” ya know. And it is starting to fray a bit around the bottom. So, I’m bidding on something on Ebay.
Ebay? Who the hell gave you access to a credit card and told you about Ebay?
Some guy I met in Texas. He kept talking about all this oil stuff. Sounded rich, so I went for it.
Ah. Ya know, there’s a name for that type of woman…
Well, he was really, really cute and, like, has — a gazillion dollars — so I thought I’d just “happen” to mention my poor little clothing problem.
I suppose you also wiggled your ass a little bit, fed him some grapes from a golden goblet, and offered him a quick peek at your kneecaps too, huh?
But I want new clothes.
Ah, and there it is. In a nutshell. The problem with youth today.
Where? Did my text come in? Did I get retweeted? Hold on, lemme check!
STOP. SIT DOWN. LISTEN. And give me that damn phone. You can get it back when you leave.
Oooooh..you seem a little upset with me…?
How old are you again?
Well, lemme see..I was around before Jesus, so I know I’m at least more than 2,000 years old. Not as old as the dinosaurs — I learned about them in school, ya know. Younger than Aristotle…I “think”.
Okay, I get the idea. You are OLD.
Yep, pretty much.
Well, two things you need to learn — smarty pants.
Yes. First, you’re acting like a modern day pain in the ass. That needs to stop.
Your grammar. It needs to improve.
Remove all uses to the term “like” for starters. That annoys the crap out of anyone who still gives a damn about the English language. Especially teachers, of which I am one.
But, I’m an ELL student. My first language is Greek. What’s wrong with the word “like” anyways?
It’s indicative of a very limited vocabulary. And sorry, but need I remind you what your job is exactly?
A muse. I help others to write poetry, music and song.
Uh huh…And how does good grammar play into those genres?
Well, I’m assuming that it’s essential to writing good poetry and song lyrics.
Exactly. Because you do realize what happens when you help someone write a song and the lyrics aren’t all that great?
Yes, they win a lot of money on American Idol.
Precisely. And the next day, that same assinine song is released to the public airwaves then I have to sit around and remind myself how shitty the music industry has become.
Yes. Damn industry is so interested in spewing out garbage songs, they’ve totally missed the whole point in music being “art”.
Now that I think about it..I did help some cute little thing write a song the other day — she’s a relatively new recording artist….Milly, Miles, something like that?
You mean Miley Cyrus?
Yea, that’s who! Who is this girl anyways?
Gawwd. The wet dream of every middle school boy in the world. She’s the daughter of a former one-hit wonder, Billy, whose only claim to fame was “Achy Breachy Heart”.
That sounds kinda catchy.
It was, twenty years ago. Now it’s just a pathetic excuse to wear a mullet and do outdated line dances.
Tell me about it — the official body art of rednecks and Nascar fans. Add a series of tattooes, a cooler of beer and you got yourself a full-out redneck vacation. Throw in an Ed Hardy shirt and a pair of camoflauge pants, and you’re officially in standard-issue redneck uniform.
I better go cancel my Ebay bid.
Sighhhh. I did. Someone convinced me to buy one of those.
Oh no! Who the hell convinced you to buy one of those piece of shit shirts?
Some guy named “John”.
Yea, should I know who he is?
Stay away from him — he’s a scumbag.
Oh? I have a friend request from him waiting for approval on my Facebook page.
Any guy who leaves his 8 kids to date a woman ten years younger than he is…
He did THAT?
Yea, sad to say.
Ohhhh, yea, that’s, like, so not cool.
There ya go with the “like” again. Stop that.
Sorry, it just slipped out..
Well, for Christ’s sake, knock it off. And as far as Facebook and Twitter go, I have a little piece of advice.
Twitter is inane. There are a lot of people “tweeting” things that, personally, no one else gives a rat’s ass about.
Well, I really don’t give a shit that some goth guy named “Glenn” is sitting in a Seattle Starbucks drinking a non-fat mocha latte and thinking about clouds.
THAT is what they post on Twitter?
Yea, pretty much. Or dirty pictures, or links to webpages of dirty pictures. A whole bunch of useless bullshit that means nothing to 99.99% of the rest of the world.
But, don’t you twitter?
Yes, I do.
Sounds a little hypocritical then, huh?
I use Twitter for the sole purpose of expanding my creative writing abilities.
Yea, yea, and I’m the “new” size 10…
No, seriously. If you looked on my blog, down in the right corner, you’d see my “tweets”.
Oh! Those are your tweets? The ones from the animals’ points of view?
Yes, doofus. I know no one gives a shit about my status, so I thought “Hey, people enjoy reading about what animals think, so what the hell?”
Some of them are really funny.
They usually come to me after I’ve just spent some time with one or both of the animals.
Cool. So that is all you do with Twitter?
Yes, that’s pretty much all I do. How about you?
Well, I have a legion of followers, ya know. Kinda comes with the job territory.
I get that.
So, I figure it’s important my co-authors and I are aware of my status, just in case someone is expecting me to show up. I’ve been known to arrive late a couple times recently, and that’s not looking very good for me.
I hear ya.
It really isn’t that I’m sleeping in until noon or anything — I swear. Sometimes, the guy or gal I’m working with just needs an extra few moments of my time, just to polish off their writings.
So, one quick tweet to my peeps and voila! No more guilt or trouble.
That makes good sense.
Speaking of which…..just got an urgent RT from @mentalblock..
What’s it say?
Hmm…kinda fuzzy…”@mentalblock nds words 2 feel pgs. asst now pls!” Do you have any idea what that means?
Yes, your superhero powers are needed elsewhere.
Superhero? You calling me a superhero now?
Sure, why not? Isn’t that every teenager’s fantasy? To have superpowers?
I suppose so…
Okay, we’re done here anyways. You better fly. Hugs?
Like, sure, whatever…
Hey, don’t get me started on “whatever”.
Jeez, what’s wrong with “whatever!”???
Nope, not going there today. Later, chickie.