Sock puppet theatre

Ladies and Gentlemen,

below is an example of what happens when one is studying a course in how to make television and one needs to create content. Sock puppets; i have found are endlessly engaging and actually are quite amusing. below is what happens when a couple of nerds combine a couple of old socks to lovingly recreate pivotal scenes from famous movies.

Story from the old blog: The Notebook (not the film)

Story from the old blog: The Notebook (not the film)

I’d often write things down on little bits of paper, ideas mostly. Things that I would one day type of my computer to share with the wider world.The trouble with doing this is that I would invariably loose the little scraps of paper on which I wrote upon. I would be the back of an envelope or the back of some printed document the I would most likely never read again.

I would hope that theses scraps of paper with the golden words written thereon would be recycled and perhaps turned into something useful. A pizza box for example though I would disgust me greatly if it were a pizza box for La Porchetta as I loath both their pizza and their restaurant however I shouldn't be too hard of the pizzas, it was after all the gnocchi that gave me the food Poisoning.

In counter the lost paper scraps, i bought a series of notebooks. i have boxes of notebooks  brimming with skit ideas, scripts and other random musings. it was quite hard to find the right notebook, on that was the right size with the right spacing between lines as well as the right leaf thickness. Too thin and the writing on the other side of the leaf would show Through, too think and it was less of a problem than to thin but the pages would be just too cardboard like.

After years of different notebooks form a humble exercise book to a cloth bound hard cover A4 tome, I found my baby bear book; it was just right. A little black mole skein book unlined and bound in black leather. It may not have had vellum pages though at least an animal was sacrificed to the god of writing to encase the whitish yellow pages. 

Now that I had the ultimate notebook, I needed the ultimate pen. No cheap stick would suffice. My top drawer was filled with pens that were no match for my moleskin and superior intellect. I had tried fine liners, gel pens, kilometricos (of which I only got half a kilometre out of, poor milage) I'd even considered a quill and ink.

Surely there must be a happy medium. There was. I found my ultimate pen to match my ultimate notebook, in the form of a fountain pen. The variety of pen that many of the great novels had been written with and various treaties signed with. The cursive script from this pen looked amazing in my notebook.

Now I had all of my words in one place and depository of in that I could share with the wider world. Only I didn't. ‘ write in my note book and forget about it, which is why I'm now typing this on my computer, for its easier to copy and paste from a document than a notebook. 

I'm never shopping here again

This is a word to all of the people who actually think that minions who work at national or multinational retailer actually give a fat rats clacker when you say, "I'm never shopping here again."
For us, it's not a negative thing, it is the polar opposite. If you never shop here again, we never have to deal with you again.

A couple of points as to why we don't care.

1. We get paid regardless of whether you shop here or not. Luckily for me I am paid by the hour, you, dear customer just happen to be passing though one of the many hours that I get paid for. I don't care if it is you or someone else, I still get paid.

2. I am at work because I get paid to be at work I have no vested financial interest at all in the products. Actually this is similar to the previous point., though regardless if I'm selling coffee or machines for counting hubcaps on a freeway, I don't own the business.
I am a contracted employee, who legally has to be paid for their time.

3. I actually want to help you. I want to give you the best service you can get and I will do that to the best of my ability however I am bound by certain rules and guidelines set out by my employer.
If these do not match up with your unreasonable expectations I will trying my best to find a mutually agreeable solution. If you decide to go down the whole "I'm never shopping here again" tanti, I suggest you grow up. Sometimes in life you don't get what you want. Suck it up. Life is not about you and the customer is not always right.

When a customer does this in front of their children what example is it setting?
Its the same as the classic temper tantrums of a two year old when they want something that the parents are big going to give them. They think in their young minds that if they yell and scream that they will get what they want. Parents will say no to teach them that life is not about getting what you want all the time. Which is quite reasonable as life is not always fair.
Unfortunately this lesson is forgotten in a consumerist society in which "consumer rights" is bandied around like a capitalist magna carta. The truth is that the customer didn't get what they want and will piss and moan until they get it Claiming that it is "not fair."

Life is not fair. Deal with it.

Let's make a deal dear customer. I see myself as an upright man. A man of my word. If I say I will do something then I will do it.
If you decide to use the, "I'm not shopping here again" line, I will hold you to it and do what I can to make sure you are honest in your statement.

Driver

This is a short piece that I wrote in a creative writing class. enjoy.


Driver

“You can drive,” said Tom as he threw the keys to Mike

 “No, you can drive” responded Mike, throwing them back

“Are you sure? i always drive and i think its about your turn.”

Mike stood still in the car park next to the passenger side door waiting for Tom to unlock the car.

“its easier if you drive, its already late and i’m not used to driving your car.”

“You’re not used to driving any car,” retorted Tom.

Mike stared at Tom in stony faced silence.

“C’mon,” continued Tom, “Its an auto, its easy to drive. Driving is like riding a bike. you never forget. What has it been? two years?”

“three,” answered Mike Curtly.

“Why wont you drive Mike?”

“Its Too Dark”

“Dark!” Tom looked at Mike mockingly. “Have you seen the headlights on this baby? Blue LED’s. they turn night into day.”

“Your car doesn’t have passenger airbags.”

“So?”

“I don’t want to kill you!” yelled Mike in a panic.

“OK,” reassured Tom, “I’ll Drive again.”