Facebook... Part III

Can you believe it, here we are again, talking about facebook. Simply amazing.

I watched the movie and was entranced by the main character, Mark Zuckerber. I am sure hollywood dramatized him a little bit, but I just kept saying to myself, "Genius. This man is genius, and a jackass." Great movie though. The real Mark gets facebook. He understands what people want from facebook. Remember we discussed how you can be a detective? Well, he has managed to make this so much easier. You are friends with a person, you can click 'See Friendship' and you are given a history of all the interactions you have had with this person. The scary thing is that you can access this friendship link on another persons wall without being friends with them. Like lets say I am friends with Ray. Ray has this smoking hot friend tagging up pictures and commenting all over his wall. I want to see if they are more than friends. Boom. Got you Ray. You little carpetbagger.

There was this whole hoopla that facebook had designed an app to track who exactly was viewing your profile, but come to find out, Mark doesn't want that to happen. The whole point of facebook is to allow strangers to look at strangers and rank them. Right? I mean, for me it is about talking about Kobe, but people got all upset cause he doesn't have a moral fiber in his body... Go Kobe.

Rewind to five years ago. No facebook (I think). Back then girls wrote in their journal or diary, at least up until they were done with middle school. They usually wrote who they had a crush on, that was the only real hard evidence a man could obtain to know where he stood with this little lady. The problem is that facebook has turned adults into diary writing and picture taking fiends. Here is why I am so fired up. I am losing a battle to a guy that is over three thousand miles away. I've seen the evidence, but the predicament is that I can't really address it. How can I?  I basically looked in this girls journal and saw another mans name written on the pages. Now that I have this knowledge I do not know what to do. You can never really begin a constructive conversation with, "I saw on your facebook..." Then again, that could be old news. I tend to over analyze things, so I have been told. Lets say I did start that convo... then automatically I come across as a jealous, controlling, over analyzing freak. And even if that is partly true, no one wants to have that label on them. Kiss of death. I do know two things: 1. I am a fool. and 2. I need to quit living my life on facebook.

And the Categories are...

First of all, Happy Thanksgiving. Be grateful, you capitalistic pig.

Red, Blue, Yellow, White. Four in all. Four simple colors that define the personality type of every single human being on this planet. Dr. Taylor Hartman, the guy who came up with this book, theorizes that if we understand others personalities and our own, we can have more substantial relationships. I have not completed the book, I have glanced over most of it, mostly reading the sections about my personality type. I just find it interesting that we have to put labels on things. For whatever reason it makes us feel more comfortable. It is practical. I mean, imagine going into a store and none of the aisles are labeled, uh annoying. But the problem is when we categorize people. Put them into a box and say, "This is you. You are good at x,y,z, however, you are not good at a,b,c." Sometimes the category that Joe Shmoe was put into was right, spot on, however, there are obviously exceptions.

I guess what really got me thinking about this is the crisis of relationship labels. The dreaded D.T.R. This talk will make or break whatever kind of thing is going on. This is the point of no return. As soon as you say or hear, "So, what are we?" there is NO going back. Don't even try to grab a Twix, it is just too late. I do it. I wanna know. I guess that is part of human nature, curiosity? -- but curiosity killed the cat. So should I really even ask or talk about it? Cause how dumb does this sound:
About a year ago, maybe more, I am dating this girl. I like her a lot. I ask her, "Do you want to be exclusive?" As soon as I said that I felt this stinging sensation in my mouth and felt brain cells die inside my head. I found out that day that there is such a thing as a dumb question, and when you ask dumb questions, brain cells die. She says,"Like be official?" with a tone saying, 'Oh my gosh, you are like so middle school.' *AWKWARD PAUSE* I am trying to come up with something sweet/cute/smart, but nothing is coming. "Yeah...." I said. "Of course David" with a snide tone, as if I said that her choice in toilet paper was poor.

I felt from that day forward that it was dangerous to put a label on any kind of a relationship. If I call you to play basketball, we are friends. Just assume. If you are questioning it, don't. My actions let you know where I stand.

There are two types of people in this world, men and women.

Pound for Pound.

This past weekend I went to Mesquite and learned some valuable lessons. 

1. America needs to have some kind of hero. We do not have a hero. LeBron had a chance to become our icon, the man that everyone can root for. Look at Manny Pacquiao. The world has never seen a boxer like Manny. Never. No one can really even compare to his splendor. The Filipinos delayed mass so that they could watch him fight. Look at the streets, lined, everyone there, rooting their champion on, from thousands of miles away. 

     a. Watching a PVP fight for free over the internet is awesome. 

     b. Watching sports with English commentators is SO better. 

     c. I wish boxing was more popular. 

     d. Boxing needs Manny vs. Mayweather. 

2. When you gamble, let loose. Just let your hair down. It is your chance to become apart of the movies. You can live the storyline of the great gambling movies. And when you let it go, the experience is so much better. Then again.... do not gamble. Gambling is bad. 

3. Feeding ducks bread with nieces is surprisingly fun. Ducks are neat too. 

4. Michael Cera is hilarious. 

5. Good lists must be divisible by 5. 

Hobbes.

This blog, inthecornerwithfiveten, is my baby. This is my Hobbes, Calvin's stuffed tiger. He could confide in old Hobbes, imagine wonders with him, that was the beauty of Hobbes, he wasn't real. Follow? Lost you... alright, bad analogy... backtrack. Baby....

You know when a baby is brand new, the parents are REALLY hesitant to let people hold em? If you are allowed to hold them, which is a feat in itself, you better not breath on them. The audacity to breath on a new born human baby! Then as the child grows older, the parents let em wander and play with more and more people. The key to all of this is maturation. As the kid grows up, the parents become more comfortable with the idea that the child can have its own identity, therefore more and more people are permitted to hold and play with the child. 

I am not ready for this baby to be exposed to those individuals who will drop my baby on its head. I am protective of this little page that has my name on it. I worry that many will not appreciate what this blogger has to say. I am not saying that this blog has the potential to be viewed by hundreds-- but I almost can't bear the thought of five more people reading this. 

Black Cards Club Called Heaven was a featured video on youtube the other day. It was pretty fun to listen to. Chiddy Bang is featured in it, and I like him.

I'm not from Hersey, but I do the H-town boogie.

Advice is kind of like a text book. You can read a text book, but don't really understand its context until it comes time for a practical. People love to give their own pointers, acting like that is the only way to handle a situation. I am kind of being vague. Lemme explain. All of us ask or have asked for dating advice, music advice, shaving advice, but how many of us have actually taken it? I think it is all an act. We just like to bring that kind of drama, like the help of our friend is going to save the relationship, find some cool artists, or prevent the irritation. We have already made up our mind. We just like thinking out loud.

However, when it comes to kissing (I have no idea what is on that website, seriously), you better ask someone if you got the VL's. A bad kiss at the end of a perfect night is like a car wreck at the end of a Wendy's run. The damage is insurmountable. No one wants the value frosty, or the spicy chicken sandwich, which is so good. Everyone just wants it to be over. So, for the VL's, ask someone. A friend of yours that is considered a lip whore. They will know. I do want to state that kisses shouldn't be handed out like herseys. Save those bad boys, make them mean something.

But if you do not have a lip whore friend, then listen up, cause I have a guest, who will remain anonymous, but I can assure you he knows what he is talking about.

Me: What makes a good kiss?

Great kisser: Passion. 

Me: Do you want to elaborate?
GK: Yes, I would like to elaborate. *chuckle* Uh, hmmm, *walks out of the interview area, and brings back a piece of paper* 

Me: I am so confused right now. You're writing this down? Why?

GK: I don't want people to listen. It's weird.

Me: So if you were to rate yourself, as a kisser, what would it be? Numerical value, 100 is the best. 

GK: Easy 85. 

Me: Huh, that is kinda low. I hope your being humble... Please just talk. This is dumb. Quit writing your responses down, no one in the tutor lab is listening.

GK: The secret behind any good kiss is the level of passion behind it. The greater the feelings, the more memorable the kiss... Also teasing; go in close enough for your lips to touch, but don't kiss! Just whisper... make em want it... remember, anticipation heightens emotion.

Me: Couldn't agree with you more. But let's say you are new to the kissing scene, how should you handle yourself? 

GK: Practice makes perfect.

Me: I'm saying your going to have your first kiss, what then? Should I use a pillow, to practice on?

GK: If it helps build your confidence, sure. *Shoots me a dirty look* But you can't expect to be a Casanova on your first kiss. Some people are naturals. Make sure it is with someone you know well, that will help eliminate nerves. 

Me: Interesting. So, should you choose someone you know well so that they will be more eager to forgive you if you totally suck?

GK: *Scough* In that case, honesty would be more helpful. Don't be afraid to tell someone they are a bad kisser.

Me: Another hypothetical question, let's say I am bad kisser, what can I do to avoid being a bad kisser? Like, what makes me bad? 

GK: Identify the problems and then fix them. If you are a teeth knocker, back it off, quit smiling so much. If you are a tornado tongue, slow down the cyclone. If you are a lizard, try and find a rhythm. Too much saliva, bad breath, and spear-fishing all need to be identified and handled accordingly.

Me: That was insightful. Can you show me?

GK: Nah. No. Uh uh. *Shakes head*

Me: Just testing you. Last question. What do I do with my hands?

GK: Keep them from wandering. Back scratch, more like a tickle, or arm tickling. If you are feeling lucky, throw in a butt smack. Ask Cox about that.

B-League.

I have taken the liberty to assume what these individuals would have said if they were asked about my competitive nature. These comments may not reflect how they truly feel.

"David is extremely competitive. I remember in the church ball he was called for a foul. It was at the end of the game, which was close, and he was called for reaching... just some tic tac call. He got really upset. If memory serves me correctly he said some obsinties." - Brandon B. (Church basketball coach, mentor)

"One time we were playing 'Catch Phrase', and Dave said part of the phrase. I don't remember what it was, but he was called out on it. He got really upset. He didn't remember doing that. He spazed out. Left the room. I even think he slept outside that night." - Steven. (Younger Brother)

"When he was a sophomore he had a cast during most of the football season. To shed defenders, he would use his cast as a club. He used it to his advantage, that craziness to win." - Nate M. (High School QB)

"When he was little, we put him in a elementary basketball league. He always had his mouth wide open... just so intense.When he would box out kids, he would put all of his weight into them. He is one of the most competitive children we have" - Anne. (Mother)

Uhh.. I was a fierce competitor, but somehow, somewhere, I lost that fire. I have been trying to bring it back. I cheat during card and board games, but that hasn't translated to the playing field. I could care less. I listen to Lincoln Park, and still I don't get hyped. I'm back to B-League status-- the guys who play for fun. But games are not played for fun, we play them to win. I guess I gotta start drinking raw egg shakes in the morning, cause I don't recognize the face in the mirror.

Here is what I miss: Two thanksgivings ago, there was a huge flag football game. One of my teammates got an interception. I was running up the field, providing blocks for him. Mowgli was there. He was gaining on this dude from behind. I came in from Mowgli's right, he never saw me, and I put a ear-hole block on him. It wasn't hard, but it was a hit during flag football. I took out my best friend during a semi-competitive game, which was definitely a non-contact game.

Close your mouth when you talk. Please.

There is a term that more people need to know about. I wish I could take credit for making it up, but once again, here I am taking someones terminology, and making it my own. "MOUTH BREATHER"

The world is filled with these parasitic, awful creatures, that were spawned of disgustingness. You pass them on the streets. I know you hate them, cause I do, and you and I are more alike than you want to admit. Let me paint you a picture of a mouth breather. They come from all cultures and backgrounds, but usually they are white-- pasty white. They have a smirk that makes you want to write bad letters on walls. Their laugh is a sound that the angles cannot even stand. These are the people who think trident layers suck. The NERVE. Oh, I almost forgot the most crucial part, they cannot seem to breath out of their nose. Hence, the name, mouth breather. And when they breath, they almost have to bear their gosh awful Jon Header teeth.


Usually mouth breathers (MB) feel the need to talk extremely loud on their phone NO matter where they are. As if their conversation is of so much importance that I must hear it. Occasionally they look over at me, just making sure I am listening. I am not listening. I am glaring, trying to use my telekinesis and shoot mind bullets, or casting spells (death eaters..mouth breathers.. Harry Potter? Oh never mind). Mad dogging doesn't seem to work though, it only encourages the MB to be more obnoxious.

Even as I type their is a MB in the room. He sits a few feet from me, yet his presence radiates inside of me. He is a toxin that must be expelled. He carries on his conversation much too loud with his MB buddy. He laughs much too loud at his youtube videos of kitty cats singing. I guarantee that he walks so slowly when crossing the street... ewww. Shoot I bet he sits in his classes at the front, raises his hand at every question, and still is wrong 75% of the time.Other common elements: B.O., self-righteous, ignorant, bigots, harry, sarcastic, angry, and good at excel.

Is it better to be a MB or a BF? That's like asking if it is better to be a sparkle or a glimmer.

Blood, Cleavage, and Darkness, all found in spook alley...

I have not been a fan of Halloween for over 10 years. Mom wanted us to go trick-or-treating, but I didn't want to. I just dressed up to look like my older brother, Scott and called it good. That was the last time I dressed up for Halloween. That was the last straw, and decided to be my own man. Since that day I have been trying to figure out why I hate this "fun" holiday. Can we agree on one thing, it is a weird holiday. I'm not even sure where the tradition came from. I heard that Halloween comes from Ireland. They used to carve turnips and dress up. Then I heard Halloween came from the carnival celebration in Spain, in honor of the dead. The problem with this holiday, as with most holidays, we have created so many new traditions that the original idea (which I am not even sure what that is... I didn't check Wikipedia) and holiday has been all but abandoned.

One new tradition (feel free to correct me) is the obsession with the scary side of Halloween. I truly dislike the blood, carnage, and all creepy things associated with Halloween. Where do people get this passion for looking like they have been mutilated or decapitated? The most common costume is the vampire and zombie; both kill and use humans for food. That is really fun and cool. I wish I was like that.... Demented beings that must be servants of the devil. Then again Michael did a really good job. 

Then you have those haunted houses and scary movies....evil and gross. Call me a party pooper, but personally I don't find either of those things fun in the slightest. People dressed up in masks, covered in blood, walking up on you, or blocking your way, just moving in an ominous way, then others scream and yell... or are crawling on the ground, like they are going to grab your feet. It is true, that usually I want to pay some fee to go into a place that makes me uncomfortable. (Personally I think the Catholic church got that figured out... you know... paying for... oh never mind.) Then again, I can just go on a date. But haunted houses give a fear that isn't fun. Going on a roller coaster - fun fear. Getting scared - Crappy fear. 

Then at night, after the partying is over, everyone wants to watch a scary movie. The only reason I can even watch a scary movie is because they are so surreal that it is hard not to watch, like an accident, or looking at Jocelyn Wildenstein. Then when I'm home, all alone, it's dark inside, I get out my shotgun and sleep with it in my bed for fear that leatherface is gunna come get me. 


Maybe I just hate dressing up. I think some costumes are really clever. I saw Joaquin Phoenix, Alan Garner, Tim Lincecum, and even an Avatar. Then, as with all things, I saw the opposite-- obtuse. I don't think that word does justice to what I saw. Immodest? Perhaps, totally inappropriate? Girls were dressed as sluts and boys as gigolos. Notice that I said girls and boys... cause that is their maturity; an adolescent who is foolish and insecure. The whole episode of the howl was very telling of people's inner commitment to a moral code. I may sound judgmental, I guess I am, but I think that when people claim to live a certain lifestyle their actions and dress should mirror what they "believe" and "preach." I do not feel that the excuse, "It's Halloween right? We're just having fun!" works. Justification is the grease on the slippery pole to hell. All I am saying is walk the walk. And even if they do not have the predominate set of moral codes, they should at least wait to get dirty behind closed doors, isn't that a given? At least respect the individuals around you enough. I wondered if people misinterpreted where we were. A gymnasium is not a brothel or a private bedroom. Big Ben made a similar mistake as to where he should act like a "boy". 


Overall I think Halloween is a dark day. The traditions that come with Halloween are not uplifting. Look at all of the other holidays, they are fun, filled with joy and laughter... maybe not president's day... but at least it's patriotic. Halloween is nothing more than a carved facade that is disturbing. Cakes are decorated with realistic looking fingers and eyeballs. Orange and black, dreadful colors, intertwine themselves everywhere. Blood smears itself on the faces of ugly candy eaters. Horror is sought after like a destructive drug. Standards are surrendered to the darkness that engulf the night. Halloween is the worst holiday of them all. But Nevada day makes up for it.