Tag Archives: texting

It’s Awards Season!

Photo by Anastasia Kotycheva

With the Grammys and Oscars and all the other end-of-year-awards ceremonies upon us, we here at the blog wanted to recognize some of the unsung overachievers in America who are never offered the chance to walk a red carpet. They still won’t, but at least they’re getting their due in a public forum.

After a very careful and thorough review of all the nominees in all categories, we’ve culled the list down to these ten very lucky winners. Congratulations everyone, your Arby’s coupons will be arriving second-class mail at the end of next month.

THE BRYANHILSON.COM TEN BEST OF 2014:

Best Hug Lasting Longer Than 3 Conspicuous Throat-Clearings – Pastor Gary Trumble and the widow Stevens, Kansas City, Kansas

Best Non-Fatal Text ’n Walk Over 1 City Block – Bob Dollort and his Samsung Galaxy s5, Boston, Massa—nope, he just walked in front of a bus.

Next Best Non-Fatal Text ’n Walk Over 1 City Block – Tammy Goodwin and her—oh god there goes another one!

Best Off-Label Use of An Antipsychotic Drug – Claude Evans, “Jurydutitis,” Rifle, Colorado

Best Quote From A Government Official Not Authorized To Speak Publicly On The Subject – “XXX XXXX XXXX XX XXX XXXXXX”, XXXXX, XXXXX, XXXXXX

Best Non-Anthropomorphized Cat Behavior In a Domestic Setting – “Feline Groovy” shitting in a cake pan, Jacksonville, Florida

Best Water Cooler Conversation About Water Coolers – Steve Ricketts, Erica Caldwell, Vince DeGuinn, Portland, Maine

Best Fake Amnesia Story To Explain Overdue Quarterly Budget Report – Allison McBane, Dublin, Ohio

Best Co-Opting Of A Wholesome Family-Run Food Brand By A Multinational Corporation – “Debbie’s Veggie’s” by Nefaricorp Global Partners, Houston, Texas

Best Photo-Bombing Of An Anesthetized Subject (Indoors) – Morris Stintannen during Hal Irwin’s vasectomy, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

Did your favorite nominee not make the cut? Leave a comment and let us know and we’ll tell you why we thought otherwise.

Ask A Post-Apocalyptic Dystopia

9 Replies

Photo by oregonmildep

Dear Post-Apocalyptic Dystopia:

My great aunt recently died and left me her antique armoire, the same armoire that my sister had always commented on and pretty much coveted from the time she was old enough to care about such things. I told her she could have it but no, no, she said, Berta left it to me, all’s fair, right? Wrong. I can’t prove it but I swear the small but deep scratch in the cabinet door wasn’t there before the last time she and her family were over. I’m not saying it was her because she could have bribed one of her ingrate kids to do it. But I don’t know what to do. Should I confront her about it or just pay to have it fixed and never speak to her again?

CONFLICTED

Dear Conflicted:

When the Earth’s core temperature reaches 12,000 degrees Fahrenheit, dismantling the magnetic field and leaving the planet exposed to the Sun’s unfiltered radiation, the oceans will evaporate and the reserves of boiling oil beneath the crust will explode to the surface. Those still alive to see the great lakes of petroleum aflame will sing briefly of their vicious beauty.

Dear Post-Apocalyptic Dystopia:

My mom is soooo annoying!! I just know that when she dies she’s going to hell and somebody’s going to be standing over her shoulder like every second reading her text messages and saying who’s Evan? what’s that mean? why don’t I ever get the emoticon with the winky face?

4COL

Dear 4COL:

For the next century the few scabby but callused survivors and their descendents will tread ground as brittle as the graham cracker pie crust from the days of yore. They will search for a new water source with which to impregnate the stagnant soil. In the meantime they will learn to eat ash and wear clothes made of bone and hope.

Dear Post-Apocalyptic Dystopia:

Apparently it’s not common knowledge in today’s society that you don’t just plop yourself and your g.d. Macy’s bag in the middle of the escalator. If spending the day shopping for a juicer you’ll never use turns you into a mouth-breathing lunk, park it off to the right so the rest of us who aren’t slaves to automation can move past you on the left. Do you think it’s better to start a petition to change state law and require all public escalators have the rules posted, or should I just post them myself and write off the expenses on my taxes?

ESCALATING

Dear Escalating:

1,ooo years after the core and crust fires have erased the old, a new civilization is born. People are divided into colony-pods based on smell and ruled over by a tyrannical elite odorless class. A brighter future soon looms, however, when a headstrong young heroine from Mentholated Lint and a delinquent young buck from Forgotten Broccoli embark on a perilous search of the outer wastelands for the Missing Stink: the one entity that could unite the tribes and lead them in rising up against their scentless masters.

Distractions

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Illustration by El Gordo

If you’re like me and write from home, you know there’s no shortage of enticing distractions that desire to consume your attention and pull you off course. You’ve got your Internet and its evil henchmen Facebook, Twitter, and YouTube. You’ve got your emails, your texting, your IM’ing. If you’re old school you’ve got your TV, your radio, or a phone that actually rings that you actually answer and use to talk to people. And of course there’s always a shelf that needs dusting, a rug that needs beating, and a very persuasive bottle of glue that needs sniffing.

Despite these challenges, I’m proud to say I’ve done a good job over the years of maintaining focus while in the act of writing, of steeling myself against any unnecessary divertissements. And yet the universe continues to test me–taunt me is more like it– with no end of new diversions.

Lately it’s the talking birds.

You know what I’m saying, writers, you’ve heard them too. So many opinions about everything, right? From how to turn the economy around (giant bird feeders on every street corner would require a huge workforce to pull off) to saving the US Postal Service (carrier-pigeons work for worms, unemployed postal carriers can build the giant bird feeders), to reversing climate change (allow more nests to be built in more smokestacks).

Sure the world can always use more problem solvers, but their timing is awful. It never fails. There I am tapping away on my computer having locked in on a steady rhythm, and there they are tapping their beaks against the window near my writing desk. I don’t want to acknowledge them but they won’t stop tapping until I do, and oh look, it’s Mr. and Mrs. Crow all fluffing-feather-excited about something. “Hey Bry, you busy? Wanna hear about our brilliant new low-cal regurgitation diet? That’s okay, you go ahead and bang your head against the desk and we’ll just tell you anyway.”

I remember the bumper stickers that said KILL YOUR TELEVISION, and as stated above TV is most definitely a distraction. Using this logic I guess I should shoot all the talking birds; however, a very similar strategy didn’t make me many friends in the neighborhood back when talking squirrels weren’t extinct.

What’s the solution here? I need help. How do you deal with your talking birds?