Anyone Read This?

Another night at the theaters. So far I’ve chased of 5 shady groups of teenagers, kicked ten people out for not having tickets, and stopped a man from murdering the ticket taker for saying his wife was hot. These are normal situations for this theater. I’m not complaining, all the commotion helps the time go faster. Six hours goes by like nothing if you are sprinting from incident to incident. Being a movie theater, this place is a magnet for teens. This usually isn’t a problem, except when the teens are gang affiliated.
These guys are the most difficult to deal with. They talk about how you should give them respect, yet they themselves give no one the respect they demand. Personally, I was raised to respect my elders/Property management/The Police. These guys will deface the property with crudely drawn graffiti, which is just a step up from using urine to mark their territory. I think if you are going to do something, do it right! These kids should Adopt A Highway. Nothing says,”Step off SON!” like a perfectly manicured highway. Forget 1000 dollars for littering, an angry gang member with a knife is a much better deterrent. This would also work well with a neighborhood watch. Who’s going to break into a car when 8 armed teens could be waiting in the bushes. The only thing scarier would be a landmine.
Sadly, these ideal situations are just a fantasy of mine. So thus I have to check cars to see if their tires have been slashed. I think that is the ultimate insult. Sure, slash one and they have a spare. But slash two and a tow truck is mandatory. Well, I gotta go. Someone is asking for popcorn at gunpoint and the bathroom is on fire.

Wish me luck!

Tagged: wow tags how fancy

29th August 2011

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I Wanna Write! (for money)

Have you ever had writers block? I know I have! In fact, this entire brick of text is a pathetic attempt to cure my writers block on a spec script. I think I have a really good idea, but I just cant seem to flow the story out of my brain hole. I really want to write the script, I really want to submit said script to studios, and I really want a job where writing silly stuff that makes me giggle is a daily occurrence. I try, I really do! But I seem to get sidetracked by the stupidest stuff, like work, sounds, and staring into the middle distance.

I think the worst problem I have with writing things is the fact that I prefer actually writing instead of typing. Sure, if I was a monk in the 1500’s, this would be the best way of sharing my thoughts (and possibly transcribing the bible from Greek to Latin). Sadly this is the year 2011 and people almost exclusively use computer screens to consume text. I don’t even know why paper is even made anymore. I also don’t know why handwriting recognition software isn’t a better thing. Didn’t apple have it in the 90’s?

But I digress, writing is what I want to be paid for. Heck, I would love if I was published without pay on a website that I didn’t create myself! I would probably have a stroke if someone paid me for anything I did creatively. I’ve done some stand up in the past, for free, for disinterested people. I didn’t get any “exposure” either, all I received where hurt feelings and maybe an ulcer. I once did an open mic at a beauty parlor, not even kidding, wish I was. They didn’t even turn off the 42in TV showing hair care ads. Again, wish I was kidding.

So if you where paying attention, I cant get my brain hole to spew script stuff onto a page, but this now tirade seems to just appear as I lay my pen across paper. I really wonder if anyone would enjoy my words or find them amusing. Because this is my main goal, to amuse and maybe inform. I do know a thing or two.

I do! Really! I was a barista at the coffee corp that shall not be named, I was a peon for a large telecommunications company, I was even a key holder at a gigantic toy store chain. I can tell you how to pull a perfect shot of espresso, use a complicated archaic billing system, or even how to clean vomit off teddy bears. I just want someone to ask!

Currently, I am what is considered to be the red shirt of home protection, a security guard. I guard an unfinished overpass one night, million dollar homes the next, then on the weekends I kick teenagers out of a movie theater on the corner of rape street and murder ave. if there was a night where I wasn’t in fear for my life/possessions/job going away, I would probably feel pretty contented. I really just want a job where I don’t have to worry about my allergy to knives and hot lead.

Well, I’m going back to staring at the middle distance… er, working on my spec script. If you want to contact me for any reason, I’m @flynn_1 on twitter, Clifton Seay on Facebook, anyonereadthis.tumblr.com on tumblr, and Clifton Seay on Google+.

Wish me luck!

16th August 2011

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The Podcast, mine, here, now!

2nd July 2011

Photo reblogged from Gleaming Cubes with 144 notes

ianbrooks:

Ray by Bruce White

14″ x 18″ acrylic on velvet for the new group art show “Crazy 4 Cult 5: I’m Getting Too Old For This Shit” opening July 8, 2011 at Gallery 1988. Another one of my favorite artists for her ultra-realistic depictions of great geek icons. Everyone go follow Bruce immediately!

Artist: website / deviantart / twitter

(via Bruce’s tumblr: velvetgeek)

Source: velvetgeek

11th June 2011

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A Writing Sample + Schilling

The blank page is my worst enemy, best friend, constant reminder of my shortcomings, and all around horrific evil entity. When I have a flash of creativity, I am over the moon! I love filling it with all sorts of thingmibobs and whosiwhatsits. But when it’s staring at me with its stark white emptiness, I feel full of anguish and horror. My mind seems to empty itself of all creativity, my stomach full of bile and spite. One would think this would put me off of creative writing forever, but like so many other masochist’s out there, I chugg along.

I believe this all started when I was in third grade. It was music class, and the teacher was demonstrating how music can convey an emotion/feeling. She had us tell stories, using the creepy music as cues as to where the story’s narrative should go. As you would expect, most of the stories where dull and dark, bereft of vim, vigor, or suspense. That was until I came up. My story was dark and foreboding, but never gory or truly horrific. I twisted the story into a twilight zone-y conclusion, creating doubt that the narrative was the character’s true reality or just a daydream of a child’s overactive imagination. This really shocked my classmates, so much so that a few of them wouldn’t talk to me for a week. This was a reaction I wasn’t expecting, but one I loved.

The reaction, the thing that keeps me doing stuff. The thought that someone will laugh, cry, feel uncomfortable, scream, or even just change their mental state a small bit. This is what will always keep me going. I don’t know why, maybe I’m just wired wrong. Normally, a person feels awkward or wrong when their work is criticized or knocked down a peg, but I love it! The negativity is a reaction. Sure, positivity makes me feel better, but the reaction is what does it for me. I think that this feeling affects my standup, my writing, my art, even my conversation with friends. I say with friends because I still need to get jobs.

Jobs, non-creative things that seem to be easy for everyone else to tolerate except myself. I have worked in food service, retail, customer service, and security. In none of these jobs have I ever been required to be creative. Sure, I’ve needed to use critical thinking skills, but not once have I been needed to make anyone laugh, cry, scream or otherwise. The only time I’ve had job satisfaction was when i’d made homeowners and customers laugh. A reaction. A good reaction. A great feeling. And that’s why I need standup. That’s why I need to make art. That’s why I brave a blank page. To let me release my stress and pressure, to give me hope that I can change my situation, to keep me sane.

So why don’t I just quit my job, move to LA, and start pursuing a career in creativity? Responsibility. I have some. I have rent to pay, I have a need to eat, my car has a need for gas, and all this requires currency. If I quit without steady work set to move to, currency goes away. So does food, gas and possibly my wife. That’s why I’m doing this essay, to try and show my writing skills and hopefully get a job in a creative field. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy comedy the most, but doing anything creatively would be a step in a better direction.