I just breathed out of my nose. Not forcefully or anything, just simply exhaled through my nostrils, and the biggest glob of god-knows-what flew out of my nose and landed on my desk. It was so big and horrifying that I didn’t even clean it up right away— I stared at it. It looked like Gloop from The Herculoids.
I wondered if it had its own genus and species. I wondered if it had a name and a family. I wondered if I had exorcised this protoplasmic sentient being from my sinus cavity against its will and it was mentally preparing to mount a counterattack. I wondered if I should put sunglasses on it and introduce it to my classes as my friend Bernie. I wondered if I should feed it pita chips. I wondered if it could help me grade my papers, or perhaps teach the class. I wondered if it had the capacity to create a Powerpoint on the meaning of life that would win it a Nobel Prize and a honorary doctorate from Cornell. I wondered if it breathed out if it would exorcise a protoplasmic sentient being from its sinus cavity.
Then I cleaned it up.
But I’m keeping an eye on that trash can.
Time to write. No after-school activities for almost a month. That means it’s time to finish my two screenplays that are near completion and try to crank out at least the majority of the draft on another.
Without a large number of specs completed, I will have fewer things to show people when I move to LA on the off chance I bump into someone who wants to read my stuff. This will make me look less impressive and less committed to being a writer. This is unacceptable.
Now to log off Tumblr. If I don’t finish enough writing this week, I may not allow myself to go to Snark. I need fucking discipline.
Goodbye for now. Wish me luck.
The students are putting on plays they wrote. I have one contribution in one of the plays… but boy, is it a doozy.
I took a character, played by a 5’1, 98 pound ginger kid, and turned him into the most badass white boy in the history of theater.
Toughest character on stage? Check.
Doo rag? Check.
Fly Jordans? Check.
Ripping his shirt off before battle? Check.
Mike Tyson tat on his face? Check.
THUG LIFE tattooed across his thanks-to-makeup rock-hard abs? Check annnnnd check.
He barks like a dog, tosses desks, and bites a kid’s ear off. Before me, he was supposed to be “a jock,” and the character made no sense. Now, he steals the show.
I’m not a big fan of “hey, that white kid is acting like a black kid lulz” humor. This kid, because he’s so sweet and Southern and completely oblivious to how black people behave, doesn’t do that at all. He has zero slang in his talk, zero fake limp walk, zero of the normal traits you see in the usual unfunny YT-acts-black roles.
He simply exists as a tiny ginger Mike Tyson/2Pac hybrid. And it is fucking glorious to behold.
I’m gonna try to get a photo tonight before the last performance. Shit is pure theatrical GOLD.