This is Conlan » Short

The man in it

Conlan — Thu, 05 Nov 2009 21:26:13 +0000

On my bathroom mirror, I have written in permanent marker, “Tomorrow I will begin being more positive, more active, and more productive.” Each morning for the last three years I have looked at it and thanked God that I didn’t write “Today…”

Logo of some sort?

Conlan — Sun, 15 Mar 2009 01:32:02 +0000

12DB, Day 2: Sophomore Slump

Conlan — Fri, 02 Jan 2009 08:55:00 +0000

Everyone hates the second of something. Usually because it sucks. For example, beans.

ATTN: Book of Face Users

Conlan — Sat, 27 Dec 2008 22:15:16 +0000

–BEGIN TRANSMISSION–

FACEBOOK USERS – PLEASE UTILIZE NETWORKED BLOGS APPLICATION – BECOME A READER OF THIS IS CONLAN – IF YOU ARE NOT MY FRIEND BEFRIEND ME (THIS MEANS YOU, NEW YORK) – THANK YOU GOOD NIGHT

–END TRANSMISSION–

Poetic Justice

Conlan — Tue, 25 Nov 2008 23:54:22 +0000

My senior year in high school, in my Literature class, we had a unit on poetry. We had to write a bunch of poems to be turned in, at the end of the unit, in a unique and creative way (i.e., not stapled together in a report cover). I think some of my classmates wrote all their poems on a T-shirt, or made a paper bouquet out of them (I don’t know, I’m making stuff up) or stapled them together in a report cover—but, like, a neon pink one.

I elected to be creative and make a bold statement about poetry in the process: I scribbled my poems on scraps of paper and tossed them—along with some empty Gatorade bottles and candy wrappers—into an $8 wastebasket from Walmart, which I proudly handed to my teacher. It was probably the most poetic portfolio of the bunch.

The following day in fourth period I received a panicked note from my Lit. teacher. As it turned out, the previous evening the janitor, doing his job, had emptied all of the classroom’s trash cans—including my creative poetry portfolio.

It was definitely the most poetic of the bunch.

Me, Over There

Conlan — Thu, 20 Nov 2008 20:40:39 +0000

Today I am a guest blogger over on the hugely popular dominiquerose.blogspot.com. Click on over to read about some of my exciting adventures. There are some em-dashes missing, but I think you can still get the gist.

“Yes We Can!”

Conlan — Wed, 05 Nov 2008 06:05:44 +0000

Hopefully people will stop saying that now. It’s so damn annoying. I much prefer my own political catchphrase: “Suck on democracy, bitches!” It pretty much means the same thing, I think.

Update 11/10/08: Damn, The Onion is so good:

Obama Win Causes Obsessive Supporters To Realize How Empty Their Lives Are

The Fresnan

Conlan — Sat, 01 Nov 2008 23:06:13 +0000

The Fresnan is a cool blog with a bunch of weird Fresno stuff. But what I like most about it is, I can find out what the hell is going on. The Starline website hasn’t been updated in months; I could try to become MySpace friends with a hundred different venues and promoters, and then sift through the cluster-eff of bulletins and updates; the Beehive makes me glance over a bunch of stuff I’m not interested in to get to what I want. But The Fresnan just gives it to me straight: what’s happening where, with just enough background info to get it done. Then I can go party. Which is what I do.

Slightly related: I saw these guys play twice. They sum up our city pretty well.

NaNoWriNo

Conlan — Sat, 01 Nov 2008 22:17:15 +0000

Longtime readers will recall that last year I participated in National Novel Writing Month, quitting halfway through due to exhaustion and/or ambivalence. This year I will not be attempting to write a novel in 30 days, although I probably should. You know what else I should probably do? Get a job. But I’m not going to do that, so why don’t you keep your condescending comments to yourself, OK? You know, sometimes you people really get on my nerves.

The Bookshop

Conlan — Sat, 25 Oct 2008 20:43:26 +0000

When I was in college, I worked at the college bookstore. One day a girl came in, took a pen off the shelf and brought it to the register. Then she took an old pen from her pocket.

“I used up all the ink in this one,” she said, indicating her old pen. “Can I trade it for this?” She pointed to the new one.

“What?” I said.

“Can I give you this old pen, and you give me this new one?”

“Is this some kind of sociological experiment or something?” I asked.

Turns out it was. And I ruined it.

I didn’t give her the pen.