A bad bunch of ramblings

There are many times when I really think my writing is really horrendous.  I find it boring, I start and something just goes on and on and on and nothing really ever happens in any interesting manner.  I find that I start sticking pieces of movies and TV shows together just to get something going and then I end up with a poor cliché of Saving Private Ryan and an episode of Seinfeld and The Simpsons (the good Simpsons from years ago, not the new stuff).

Ryan: Oh dear I’m stuck in the middle of this war, where is Tom Hanks to tell my I get to go home?

Jerry: That button to me, Ryan, is in no mans land.  It makes or breaks the shirt.

Homer: They have Internet on computers now.

The dialogue ends up leading me to nothing but an uninteresting end and I know I don’t write enough as I should if I want to make anything out of it.  I felt like I used to be good, that I used to be able to come up with new and fresh ideas but nothing is happening now.  I sit and look at the screen and find that nothing is really ever happening that makes me excited or interested to keep the piece of work going.

Five years ago I was good but now I’m not.  I think my brain has decided to just quit and give away all it’s good ideas to someone else.  Perhaps I can mount an expedition to find out what happened to all my good ideas, the Government might pay for it.  I can call it an Art Project and with PM Steven Harper scrambling to show people he likes the Arts I’m sure I can get a grant for it.

Why is Howie Mandel on the radio right now.  Yesterday I heard a show about how he told his son that sometimes when his heart beats to fast that its called a Boner.  So his kid went to school the next day and told the gym teacher that he couldn’t do gym because he had a boner.  The school called home and talked to the woman of the house because Howie was laughing too hard to come to the phone.

Maybe I should be a white rapper, it works for Eminem and J-rock on the Trailer Park Boys seems to have something going for him, he’s on the CBC radio right now.  Why do I care about celebrities, I don’t but the world makes me feel like I should and I really don’t find most of them interesting.

Oprah has a big head and I am waiting for it to pop and cover her audience in a bunch or ‘enlightened’ brains.

This snow is still coming down and I desperately want to erase everything I’ve written above because all I’m doing now is writing my strange observations on my own bad writing, isn’t that like a nexus where the ends of the universe meet and nothing can be real anymore.

Re: A bad bunch of ramblings

GLORY HALLELUJAH BROTHAS AND SISTAS THIS IS SOME FINE, CRAZY-ASS BAD WRITING!!!!

Thank you thank you thank you for not editing out the weirdness in your head.  It is a spooky and wonderful place.  You tell us you have nothing to say, but you say it anyway and I totally freaking love your voice.  I loved not knowing where you were taking me, like you had covered up my eyes and led me into a place I'd never been, but you steered me around the furniture and then, voila, the blindfold came off and I felt like I was home.

Just keep on shooting your mouth off, Cleve, you and Ryan and Jerry and (OMG that was so effing funny) HOMER, and whomever you wish to channel for us.  The less you think you have to say, the more I want to hear it.

Rock on, Buddy!!!

Sparrow

yes, Harper is a weinie!!

Re: A bad bunch of ramblings

Weird and random seems to be the majority of what actually goes on in my head.
I had just finished my mess of bad writing and posted it.  No sooner had I walked away and I saw a 'Little Petshop' pony sitting on the mantle near the sink, it was wearing a pair of Barbie glasses (one of my daughters put it there).
My wife said it looked cute.
I thought quite different.  I was concerned that the horse, being myopic, might not be able to live a full and effective life.  What good is a show jumping horse that's blind?
Besides the blind horse and possibly the Blind Melon that would obviously have to go with him I thank you for your words of encouragement.

Re: A bad bunch of ramblings

Okay, so now I would like to hear the story of The Plight of Little Petshop Pony, a tale of overcoming seemingly insurmountable obstacles.  What about his show jumping career?  His self-esteem?  The constant torment from the other horses because of the Barbie glasses he cannot take off, having no opposable thumbs?

Will he aspire to a life of mere ornamentation?  Will he attempt some kind of community service?  Are there homes for horses like Eddie? (Sorry, he needed a name)  Does he know there is a human creature in his dwelling that understands his suffering, and is there a way he can bridge the communication gap to speak to this human,  being a horse made out of plastic and probably only able to speak Chinese, due to his country of origin?

Ramble forth, Sir Cleveland!!

Re: A bad bunch of ramblings

yes yes yes - a myopic pony story, please.  See, you still have plenty to say, you just needed to start writing! 

Like Sparrow, I found this bunch of bad ramblings hilarious!  I actually saw Oprah's head explode and the lights go on in the faces of everyone in her audience!

Ramble on, please.

xo Ayla

Re: A bad bunch of ramblings

Eddie the Horse

I’m a bloody plastic horse standing here on a desk staring at the back of someone’s head as they punch away at a computer.  Why in the world was I put here?  This is incredibly boring and I really can’t think of anything else to do.  I rather like my English accent though I’m glad someone showed me a documentary on the life and times of The Who so that I could learn to speak something other than Plastic Horse.

God these glasses are horrible.  If I didn’t have these stars in my eyes I would probably be able to see properly.  I don’t understand why nobody else has to wear glasses.  They’re all cute little pets that seem to have an idea of what is going on.  Well they seem to get more play than me.  I’m a bloody horse.  There’s movies about horses and girls love them.  Why the hell are these glasses purple?  I didn’t expect that I’d have to wear a pair of Barbie spectacles.

I’m honestly trying to come up with stuff for this horse to do and it’s really not happening.  I read the request from Sparrow last night and I decided I’d think of something clever to write and even then all I could do was come up with all kinds of stuff that really didn’t seem original.  I could make a reference to the Horse Whisperer.  Did he really talk to horses or was it just a woman called Horse that he Whispered to?

That’s really not original.

The only thing that I figured would be any good was a quote from Lewis Black…If not for my Horse I wouldn’t have spent that year in college.

Why in the world is this man talking about a comic this is supposed to be about me.  I’m the star here, I have stars in my eyes, a star on my shoulder and a set of eyes that are way out of proportion but that’s supposed to be my appeal.  I’m supposed to be cute.

Do I suffer from Random Blackouts.  I guess I will never know unless someone tells me.  Apparently there’s a water shortage in Kabul, not like a plastic horse can solve that in any way.

I’m off topic time to get back to where I was going.

A horse with opposable thumbs.  I might as well be called a monkey  because that’s what I’d be if I had thumbs and could physically remove these blasted glasses.  Why Barbie, I would look cool if I had specs like John Lennon.  He was great.  Why do I know about John Lennon I’m a plastic horse.

Perhaps the horse could have had a life of decadence and expenditure.  He could have been owned by a rich old lady who loved horses and when she died she left him her fortune and simply because he could he bought a pair of glasses.

Now that doesn’t make any sense.  How could a horse tell anyone that he would want a pair of glasses.

Why is this whole thing fixated on the glasses.

Kabul still has no water.

I’m stopping for a minute I think I’ll make some tea.  No I just had some.

Could a horse with glasses fight zombies?

That’s the universal question these days, zombies.  Everyone like or wants or is obsessed with zombies.  Why?

If I was dead I don’t want to come back as a half assed version of myself.

This horse is really starting to annoy me.  He just stares in one direction and he never blinks, ever.

I’ve just moved Reggie.  He’s now in front of me and he really looks….well plastic.  Was he actually made in china…yes, it says so on his stomach.  That’s a shame.

If I could come up with a nice back story then I might be able to sell this to someone.  I can’t steal the one from Black Beauty.  Maybe Benji could be altered to fit a horse, he was a dog that’s just a short horse.

I can’t make the horse an action hero, nobody would buy a book about a horse that runs around like Rambo, though if he could remove a bullet from himself with a super heated commando knife they might want to use his DNA for show horses.

Can’t stud him, he is after all only plastic and I don’t think that a female horse would be too pleased with her stud having vision problems.  Show horses have enough issues with in breading and stuff, the last thing they need is bad vision.

I think there was an episode of Mr. Ed where he once wore glasses.

What is with all these horrible horse jokes.  Really, I think I’ve hit a new low here.

This really has no topic.  The horse just seems to appear and then wander off to the back of my mind as new stuff surfaces.

Why?

Why am I asking questions I should be telling a story.

Really, I have hit a new low.  I can see it now.  Lowest story in the history of the world.  Starts off about a horse names Reggie turns into drivel and nonsense about comics and no water in Kabul.

Time for a commercial break.

If you don’t have Quaker State oil in your car then you might as well not drive it.

Re: A bad bunch of ramblings

If I can find the camera I should probably post a pic of the horse.  An English horse made in China.  I really don't know where that came from, lol.

Re: A bad bunch of ramblings

this just got better and better for me. Hard to stifle the giggles.  I particularly loved the back and forth btw narrator and horse ( Why in the world is this man talking about a comic this is supposed to be about me. ) This combined with the wry self-reflection of the -I- character (What is with all these horrible horse jokes.  Really, I think I’ve hit a new low here.)makes the whole thing, believe it or not, gripping. I think it's particularly gripping because the self-refection is refreshingly not myopic (?!). We hear about Kabul (more than once, I loved that); concern about inbreeding of show horses, the knowledge of pop (and other) culture etcetera. ”Why do I know about John Lennon I’m a plastic horse” could make a terrific title.

I'd say keep going - something here, that's for sure. My bet is all it needs is some sustained writing, not caring how bad it is or whatever, maintaining a certain focus (the plastic horse, such a great and funny thing to return to every so often)… maybe the horse actually does start to take over.. and meanwhile the 'back story' is this -I- character at once feeling down about their writing and at the same time having things to say about the world that are funny and interesting.

Don't worry about what or why etc, just keep at it, ok?

Love,
Sandra

Re: A bad bunch of ramblings

Loved it loved it and, by the way, loved it.

Great that Kabul's water issues made it into a piece written by a plastic horse from China who speaks with a British accent and cannot remove his purple sunglasses.  I really would follow this kind of lunacy anywhere, because the voice is present and assured, even though the I-character openly admits that he doesn't know where he's going with it. 

Maybe there should be a DD assignment called, “Sinking to a New Low”.  The bottom of the barrel, worst crap we can come up with–betcha there would be some great stuff.

Thanks for this, Cleve!!

Sparrow

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I never laughed so hard in my life.  These are truly awful and yet so gloriously graphic and yes, I did see Oprah's head explode as well.  And the horse, incredible.  I can just see him pondering a human being tapping at little blocks on a board…must be quite boring in his English accent.
Loved every bit of it.
Kudos.
Gina

Re: A bad bunch of ramblings

Why do I know about John Lennon I’m a plastic horse

I think this might be coming to and end.  I’ve found the plastic horse has been played with.  He’s not on my desk anymore he’s across the room on the TV stand.  He was the driver of a city bus but got downsized and became depressed.  This is actually making me depressed why is the best I can come up with recreating the story of my daughter Ayla playing with her plastic horse.  I really need to come up with some ideas of my own here.

Now I’m staring at a wall.  There’s a lady here typing on her computer but she’s not as frantic as the guy.  He seems upset about something.  I was played with today and bloody hell it was good.  I was important for a while.  The girl who gave me the glasses played with me, she has glasses kinda like mine.  That girl who laid me off from my job is a wanker though.  I don’t know what that means but Pete Townsend said it once in the documentary I saw.

Honestly I have to really be reaching to write about this plastic horse.  I read peoples comments and now I feel like I have to come up with something.  This really isn’t good because now there’s pressure on me to be good.  This was supposed to be bad writing, it should be bad writing.  I’m not presenting something new I’m not discovering a new colony or celebrating the anniversary of some fantastic new voyage.  I think…I don’t know what to think actually.

I can see the horse from here.  Maybe I should give up on the horse.  There’s other things around here to write about.  There’s a pen on my desk from the North Bay General Hospital.  Maybe it can be a magical pen that draws the wishes of the people who pick it up, or can give people great insight into their future.

That’s just as bad as the plastic horse.  It’s a pen with a cheap rubber grip that rubs off on your fingers when you use it.  All it does is fill out my time card for work and then sit there until I need to add another line to my stuff from work.

I really can’t be serious about being a writer.

That bloke is getting more and more frantic at the keyboard.  I’d like a nice glass of port and a fine cup of tea.  This English is really working for me.  I think that increased my value with the girl.  She sat with me and told me something special.  I can’t repeat it, it’s just for me and her to talk about.  I don’t know when she is coming home.  Its cold outside and I really want a hat, a hat would make my glasses even better.

This isn’t any better than any of the other stuff that I wrote earlier.  I’m just going over all the same things I already have.  There’s nothing interesting in the news today.  Wikipedia turned 8 but that’s about it. Now I’m staring at my fingers on the keys and wishing that they would produce something that was more creative.  The Q just came on, I can’t spell his name but he’s taking about Syrian Lingerie.  That could be interesting.

That horse, I’m done with him.  I can’t come up with an good storylines he’s out.  The zombie on my desk is in.  NO, I’m not doing that, everyone talks about zombies.  I talked about zombies last time.

Ricardo Montalban died, that’s not right.  Now I want to know more about him, he was a latin lover and got a Tony Nomination.

My mom just dumped a bunch of newspapers in my door, I don’t ‘think she wants to talk to me today.  The wrath of Khan, that’s where I knew him from.

Could I write a story about Panasonic Batteries?

I’m a horse, I’m a horse.  I can sing and I can dance and I love to be British.  I’m made in China but that’s not a concern anymore.  I once wrote an album of ballads dedicated to the pursuit of cabbage.

Vibrating Thong, I bet that CBC is going to get some letters about that.  It’s a shame that some people just don’t want to believe there is a world beyond what their eyes and ears normally hear.  This is pointless.

I’m a horse, I’m a horse.  I once produced an opera about the life and times of the man who named dirt.  He was a poor man but once the name dirt caught on he was rolling in money.  He died in poverty though because Boeing came and stole the name from him before he was able to properly acquire the rights.  It happened in the transition from Silent Films to Talkies.  Anyone who wrote the name dirt had to pay him royalties but once people started saying it Boeing bought the rights now all royalties go to them.  I guess people stopped writing when Talkies came around.

Apparently mothers buy their daughters vibrating underwear when they are going to get married.  People on the internet don’t need to hear me talk about this.  I noticed there were some new people saying hello on the message board.  I feel like I should say something to them but I’m not well known enough to feel like I can welcome them.  There’s a singing Tweety Bird Thong, that’s wrong.

I’m always afraid that I’m going to say something on a message board that someone won’t understand and they’ll have to ask questions or think I’m rude and that would be bad.

I’m not rude, really.

Alright, this is enough.  I have to come up with something.

I’m a horse I’m a horse.  The world was mine once.  I can rule the world be tying a string to the end of a stick and using it to prop up a box.  I will then wrap a steak in burlap and when the world comes to take this steak I will pull the string and catch the world and then I will have to do what I say.  Bloody hell that will be a good day.  I will show then I can’t be downsized.  I’m a horse, I wear glasses and I can rule the world.

I don’t like this.  I’m stealing topics from current conversation on the radio.  This is when my left brain turns to my right brain and says it’s dark in here and I’m scared.

I stole that also.  Lewis Black is going to come to my house and shoot me.

No he won’t do that, he’ll yell a lot he’s good at that.

Of course I’m a horse.  I could have been something else but I’m not I’m a horse.  Was I ever something else?  Did my plastic come from a Cuban Missile or a Coke Bottle.  Maybe.  If I had to choose where I came from I’d like to be partially made up of plastic from a toothbrush and the stuff that comes inside pumpkins.  That’s plastic isnt it.  No, Twinkies are plastic.  That’s what I want to be when I come back, I want to be a Twinkie they are the only things that would live through a Holocaust.

I see a Data figure on my desk, I could write a story about him.  There’s lots of back story there…but they killed him off in the last Star Trek movie.  I’m done.  I should just listen to the radio and find a way to live a life of quiet reflection away from a computer and a word processor and just pretend I never wrote anything.

For a horse I’m ravishingly good looking.  I should be a movie actor.  I could star opposite Susan Sarandon, she’s in movies about anything.  I once heard if you can get a role as a nun in a movie about war you’re sure to get an Oscar. 

Re: A bad bunch of ramblings

Okay, here is proof that you are a good writer:  I read that whole damned thing from start to finish without skimming, and I really struggle with on-screen text. 

Ricardo Montalban died?  They killed Data?  What the font is going on here?

grateful for your weirdness,

Sprw

Re: A bad bunch of ramblings

I read peoples comments and now I feel like I have to come up with something.  This really isn’t good because now there’s pressure on me to be good.

God I hate that. It's happened to me a few times here and the worst is when after a while no one comments so you know you've failed and they are just being nice by not saying anything.

I'm trying to think what to say that doesn't come off as pressure. I love this story. I don't think you can go 'wrong' whatever you say. Believe me, some people are just like that. Not many, but I've known one or two. So the main thing is.. what can be said to keep them writing (as opposed to clamming up)?

Maybe if you really really try to be bad (again), like push it to the limits, maybe you'll get reinspired? Thing is, clearly we love what you write. But that matters not a hole in hell (?) if you don't get something out of writing. Some sense of achievement - but not to be good. But to be truly bad, that is an achievement. If I said it's virtually impossible to be bad if you try to be bad, does that tickle your fancy? to see if you can do what I say cannot be done?

Please. write really badly, please. Just awful. The worst crap ever. That's what I want. So bad you have to get your kid to hit the send post button and you dread coming here to read what people say ( or don't say).

Please?

xo

Re: A bad bunch of ramblings

I will find this bad writing.

I will then steal his wife and make him cry.

ClX