If we are notified that a Twitter user has turned into a Zombie, we can remove their account or assist family members in posting and, if possible, translating their loved one’s moans and death rattles into 280 character Tweets.
Please contact us with the following information:
1. Your full name, email address, and your relationship to the Zombie.
2. The username of the Twitter account, or a link to the last Tweet they made suggesting that they were bit and feeling ill.
3. A link to a news article or video of the Zombie eating brains.
You can contact us at privacy@twitter.com, or by mail or fax:
Twitter Inc.,
c/o: Zombified
795 Folsom Street, Suite 600
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Fax: 415-222-9958
Please note that Twitter cannot fix the formatting for long Zombie words like Mmmmmmhhhhhhhhhgggggggggggggggggggg, Arrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrgunh, or Rwwwwwwwwwwrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrraaaaaaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrgh.
Please note that we cannot do anything about loved ones who turn into vampires. We don’t deal with that shit.
I Love Me. Who Do You Love? – The Not-So Audio Book
I compiled a number of HolyJuan
stories, postings, cartoons, and some new writings together in a book called, “I Love Me. Who Do You Love?” At the time, I thought about recording an audio book to go along with it. As part
of my work at Roto, we did audio recordings all the time. We would screen the voice
talent, and then with a recording engineer, the talent, and with me as the
producer, work together to ensure high-quality recording and to catch errors / make on-the-fly changes
to the script. It was enjoyable work, so I thought I could handle it myself by
just reading through my book with some simple recording equipment.
Oh boy,
was I wrong.
First
off, they call them “talent” because it takes a lot of practice and experience
to read well, even when it is in their own voice and not a character voice. Reading
naturally, without screwing up a word or skipping a whole line is difficult for
someone doing it by themselves. Even if you think that you’ve read a few lines
perfectly, the engineer and producer is there to catch if there were “pops” or
background noises. In a studio environment, you’ve got two people making sure
that the words are right and that they sound perfect. Being able to sit back
and have a second take on something with a few modifications might squeeze
something unexpected from everyone working together.
Secondly,
the engineer is doing several other tasks that have nothing to do with the performance.
They are tracking the takes, monitoring the equipment, catching subtle modifications
the talent can make to how they are speaking into the microphone, and then
wrapping it all up in a nice package for which I can take credit.
Lastly,
it is very difficult to produce your own work. It’s hard to massage a 5th
take out of the talent when you are the talent. There are missed words. Missed
paragraphs. No direction from a 3rd party. And after trying to get
one passable chapter complete, all you want to do is have a drink before moving
on, and drinking while recording a downhill cheese wheel chase of compounding
trouble.
I tried
to record my book. I borrowed audio equipment from Hugh. Prepped my file
folders. Booted up the Adobe Audition recording software. And promptly gave up
after the first three chapters. About 75% of my recordings had the word “shit”
in them when I recognized I had screwed up a word. Literally every recording
would need an edit in the middle. And even when I thought I had a perfect
recording, I’d catch a pop or slurred word. I was miserable, realizing that I
am the laziest perfectionist in Ohio and the book would never be recorded without
paying for an engineer, a producer, and studio time.
When I
returned the audio equipment to Hugh, I explained my predicament. He knows a significant
amount about recording and couldn’t help but agree. But in that sad discussion,
we came up with a great idea: The Director’s Cut Audio Book – Now With 100%
More Alcohol Consumption.
Here’s
the pitch: I read and record my own book. I use at home equipment. If I want, I
drink beers before and during the recording. I read without stopping for simple
errors or I call out when I’ve glitched. If I want, I add commentary. I read
the comics. I describe the photos. It is story telling of my stories. You buy the
audio book knowing what you are getting and buying it because you know what you
are getting.
What do
you think?
Compare and Consternation
A few weeks ago, I got a message on my Fake Dispatch Twitter account from a local publication asking if I would be interested in collaborating on some humorous political commentary. Absolutely. I went to their offices and we decided I would write as Fake Dispatch and write humorous content that would be published at their online channel. I would wait until the last minute to write these pieces so that they could be as relevant as possible.
We did a test the first week to see if my content was what they were looking for. I sent them three extended Fake Dispatch posts. Their response was that they were not looking for me to write fake news but to comment on real news. I said I would make an attempt.
For me, it is difficult to write funny commentary on real, local topics, because at some point, someone's feelings are going to get hurt. When I write something made up, there is a buffer of lies between my jokes and others' emotions. But I gave it my best. That next week, I sent them a new set of Fake Dispatch "hot takes" with real, humorous commentary.
Between that first week and the second week, something unexpected happened at this local publication where they reconsidered publishing political commentary. It was an unfortunate coincidence, but Boy was I Proud of the opportunity to try this writing challenge. They said, "thanks, but no thanks" and my work was never to see the light of day.
So here it is in the light of day! Here's what I would like to do: I'm going to post the first "fake" article and its complimentary "real" piece. The last two don't align on topic, but you get the idea. Let me know what you think.
--------
Teh Ohio State University
We did a test the first week to see if my content was what they were looking for. I sent them three extended Fake Dispatch posts. Their response was that they were not looking for me to write fake news but to comment on real news. I said I would make an attempt.
For me, it is difficult to write funny commentary on real, local topics, because at some point, someone's feelings are going to get hurt. When I write something made up, there is a buffer of lies between my jokes and others' emotions. But I gave it my best. That next week, I sent them a new set of Fake Dispatch "hot takes" with real, humorous commentary.
Between that first week and the second week, something unexpected happened at this local publication where they reconsidered publishing political commentary. It was an unfortunate coincidence, but Boy was I Proud of the opportunity to try this writing challenge. They said, "thanks, but no thanks" and my work was never to see the light of day.
So here it is in the light of day! Here's what I would like to do: I'm going to post the first "fake" article and its complimentary "real" piece. The last two don't align on topic, but you get the idea. Let me know what you think.
--------
Teh Ohio State University
Just this week, Teh Ohio State
University applied for copyright protection on the word, “THE.” At least they
thought they did. Because they allowed a graduate from Ohio University to fill
out the application, the woman accidentally put “Teh” on the application over
37 times. When asked about the error, the woman replied, “Oops, that must have
been a typo. Go Bobcats!” Legally, Teh Ohio
State University must use the word “Teh” until the matter is settled in court.
The The The Ohio
State University
Don’t get me wrong; I love Ohio State. Outsiders to Columbus
are not forced to don the scarlet and grey. (Though I think babies born at any
university hospital are swaddled in OSU blankets and receive a block O tattoo.)
But if a non-alumna does accept Ohio State into their heart, they will find themselves
invited to more tailgates, asked to go to lunch more often with co-workers, and
high-fived a lot in public. It’s either that or give in to the dark side and wear
Michigan gear. Honestly, Michigan fans should get a lot more credit than the
folks that wear OSU gear as camouflage.
I love Ohio State. But damn do they test my patience.
Originally, people insisting you say, “The” Ohio State University was just
silly. I refuse to do it. But then they go and try to trademark the word
“The?”
I think this means that if you have four people to spell out
“OHIO,” you are going to need three more to spell out the “THE.”
Well, I’m sorry to say that “The” is already taken. (A song
by the group JYJ.) And "The The" is taken by the group The The. Luckily, The The
The is available and that’s what I am going to call The The The Ohio State
University from now on. The The The Ohio State University.
And now I can’t figure out how to form the H in “The” with
just one person’s arms. You might need eight people. Shit… sixteen if you spell
The The The OHIO.
-------
Alternative Transportation
Energy
A Columbus man was injured last
night after attempting to create a perpetual motion machine by taping two
rental scooters together. Allen Mordigio Baskins, who asked that we would not
use his name, rented a Bird and Lime scooter. He aligned the wheels, front to
back and back to front and then taped the accelerator handles down on both
units. The resulting explosion generated an EMP blast that erased all the high
scores from the video games at 16-bit Bar. Allen Mordigio Baskins, who asked
that we not reveal his name, was thrown several hundred feet and landed on,
believe it or not, a Spin scooter which he then used to scoot his busted ass to
the hospital.
Electric Rental Scooters
are the Devil
In Columbus, you literally cannot swing an electric rental
scooter without hitting another scooter. By last count, I think there are 1,335
scooter companies in Columbus. (Lime, Bird, Lyft, Spin. OK there are four.) No
one says anything about it in the Bible, but electric scooters were the 11th
Plague of Egypt. (And also how the Israelites got out of town so quickly.) Scooters
are everywhere in Columbus. They are here to stay. They are the Devil.
They are
the Devil because have you seen the people riding them with sheer glee and
abandon? As they ride on the street/sidewalk/parking lots/grass/into fire
hydrants, their faces are filled with exultation. They laugh. They whoop. They
slalom from side to side. Even the people on their way to work have a micron of
an upturned lip as they whizz down the street. Anything that provides that kind
of selfless happiness can only come from the Devil. Scooters are the Devil. And
I love riding every mile down the highway to hell on them.
NOW QUIT LAYING THEM ON THE SIDEWALKS YOU PUNK KID HEATHENS!
-------
Anxious for Weed?
The State Medical Board of Ohio
committee, which is empowered to recommend what qualifying conditions would
allow residents to purchase medical marijuana, has decided against adding
autism spectrum disorder and anxiety to the Ohio’s list of qualifying
conditions for purchasing the drug. Previously, they also ruled against
allowing prescriptions for opioid use disorder, depression, and insomnia.
Currently, the only covered
conditions for medical marijuana are golfer’s elbow, injuries obtained during equestrian
dressage, and stress induced from being a State Medical Board of Ohio committee
member.
Dangerous
Intersection Remediation Underway
According to Columbus city officials, there have been 68
accidents at the intersection of Livingston Ave. and Barnett Rd. between 2015
and 2017. Columbus is throwing $1.4
million at the intersection to make it safer by modifying the road width,
adding turn lanes, and crosswalks. Folks, this is not going to put a dent in
the number of accidents. Or I should say there will still be dents, and that
number might have one, but it will still be the same number. I’m sure they had
the best intentions, but I don’t think it is going to work. You know what would
stop accidents there? A traffic circle. You drop a traffic circle in there and
I guarantee there will not be a single accident as people drive 2 MPH in the
same circle over and over and over. How do you get people to avoid accidents in
the intersection? When completely avoid the intersection. I understand that
many of the residents in Hillard over the age of 60 would gladly donate one of
their city’s traffic circles.
If It Works, It Works (Updated)
(Author's note: I've updated this story with some new revelations and photos at the end. You can skip down if you wish, but this story is good enough to read again.)
There is the right way to do things, the wrong way to do things, and then the wrong way that is the best right way you have. My favorite type of wrong/best-right is the one that comes through getting cornered and fighting one’s way out of the problem.
There is the right way to do things, the wrong way to do things, and then the wrong way that is the best right way you have. My favorite type of wrong/best-right is the one that comes through getting cornered and fighting one’s way out of the problem.
In September of 2015, a team of folks from our company traveled to Turkey
to help install interactive exhibits at the Kocaeli Science Center in İzmit. In
preparation for this trip, we thought long and hard about the tools and
hardware we were going to take. The tools were an issue due to the 220 V / 50
Hz power standard incompatibly. The hardware was troublesome because both
the metric system and we knew were going to leave the unused hardware behind
and didn’t want to blow the budget buying 100 of everything we might need. Our
recon team went out a few months early and discovered we would have no problem
buying the tools we needed locally. The hardware we would need was also available,
but our scout team said we’d need a guide to navigate the maze of hardware. We brought
the hardware we knew needed, some standard hardware we knew we might need for troubleshooting, and knew we could figure something out with whatever we could find locally.
When Alpha Team One (I know that’s redundant, but it sounds
cool) arrived, they surveyed the museum space, assisted the client to understand how
the space was laid out incorrectly, helped to modify it, unloaded the shipping containers,
and ventured into town to buy the tools we needed. AJ went with Metin, our local interpreter,
to the hardware store where AJ unwittingly became a local hero. We
needed a lot of expensive tools and AJ was a long-haired, full-bearded kid in a
candy shop. As they drove off with the van’s shocks aching under the weight of
his purchases, I imagine all the store’s employees on the sidewalk waving
goodbye with big smiles on their faces and then jumping up and down and hugging
one another once the van turned the corner. Word of AJ got around and for the
next few weeks, because he was so beardedly recognizable, seemingly random people would
yell out his name and wave to him as he walked around the city streets.
Once Beta Team Two (I know) arrived, we were fortunate to follow
in the footsteps and the path cleared of brambles by the first team. They knew how
to get around, when to drink tea, how to get food, and that any hardware run was
going to require a dusty leather jacket, a fedora, a bullwhip, a shoulder bag, a map,
and Metin. And several hours. The hardware store had hardware, but it was spread
out over three floors of their building and seemed to be grouped by some arbitrary
organization system that put bolts next to paint and nuts above the cast iron pipes.
I’m assuming the heaviest items were located near the loading doors because when
a worker tired of carrying something, it was dropped, and that became its
location in the store.
 |
| Metin and Keegan at the hardware store. |
Along the way, we found out that plumbing in Turkey is
different from plumbing in the United States. Aside from the metric system and the
normal issues that come from pipe/thread size, we learned that they use horse
hair and Teflon tape in many applications where we might use two correctly
sized fittings. If two pipes were not coming together as expected, they would wrap horse hair
around the threads, keep it all in place with a few wraps of Teflon tape, and force the two
pieces together like a couple in an arranged marriage.
I laughed at this until my final days on the project when I
had my own plumbing issue. Due to a miscommunication, our team had dissimilar clear
braided PVC hose pipe that came from a structure in the ceiling and needed to
connect to the house water supply on the ground. The 1” tubing from the ceiling needed a reducing fitting
that would take it down to a ½” tube. We could not find anything in Turkey that
could make this transition. We ordered the piece we needed, but it was three
days away and we had a sign off with the client the next day. Chris let me
troubleshoot this issue and here’s what I tried:
- apply various metric fittings (failed without even turning the water on)
- shove the smaller tube inside the larger tube (it fits tightly, but the water pressure pops it out, with water shooting out like a rouge fire-hose)
- shove the smaller tube inside the larger tube and use a hose clamp to compress (still pops out, water less everywhere as we were prepared this time)
- all the above and use two hose clamps (STILL POPS OUT)
I needed something to keep the tubes in place and time to do
the right thing was long past and I was almost to the point of doing the wrong thing. So I said, “screw it,” literally. I found a few
screws and compared them to the vinyl pipe wall thickness. I took the screw
with the coarsest thread and joined the two tubes together, making sure I didn’t
pass too far through. We turned on the water and the hoses stayed together. Because
the screw’s threads were far enough apart, they stayed sealed in the hose wall.
I think I covered the whole mess in Teflon tape, not to keep the water in, but
to hide our sins from the client.
 |
| Court and Chris working on a boiling water fountain |
Then I left the county, missing the client review (we passed the review and got paid), hoping that I would not be stopped at the border (a story for another time.)
Later, the correct part arrived, Chris cut out the offending
plumbing, and installed the proper fitting. Instead of throwing my little Frankenstein’s
Monster away, he brought it home.
This little guy now lives at my desk. It’s a trophy. If it
were mounted to a walnut plaque with a little bronze plate, I think the inscription
would say, “If It Works, It Works – September 2015”.
(But then, on a small piece of paper rolled up on the inside
and held in place by that screw, there would be a message to the curious. What would
that message say? I don’t know… how curious are you?)
UPDATE:
Since writing this article in March, I've taken a new position with another company. Last night, we had a going away party at a bar and many of my co-workers showed up to say goodbye. AJ was one of those folks and he said he had a gift for me.
The day after I told people I was leaving our company, AJ secretly came by my desk, took the "If it works, it works" hose assembly and replaced it with a decoy. You can see from the image below that the decoy was so close the the original that I didn't notice and brought it home in a box with my other desk crap.
UPDATE:
Since writing this article in March, I've taken a new position with another company. Last night, we had a going away party at a bar and many of my co-workers showed up to say goodbye. AJ was one of those folks and he said he had a gift for me.
The day after I told people I was leaving our company, AJ secretly came by my desk, took the "If it works, it works" hose assembly and replaced it with a decoy. You can see from the image below that the decoy was so close the the original that I didn't notice and brought it home in a box with my other desk crap.
 |
| The decoy - damn good! |
Just in case I did notice, AJ slipped a note in his decoy.
So last night at the going away party, AJ presented me with this:
And like I said above, "If it were mounted to a walnut plaque with a little bronze plate, I think the inscription would say, “If It Works, It Works – September 2015”.
Quite possibly the most thoughtful gift I have ever received. Thanks, AJ. And goodbye. I will miss you.
The Step at the C.I.
I went to Ohio University from 1988
to 1992. Technically it was 1993, but I wouldn’t want it to seem like I flunked
a grade or that my parents held me back. The friends I made then are the
friends I still have now. We are planning a reunion for the end of June and
there are about 24 of us coming back to Ohio University. More than likely, we
will end the night at the C.I.
The C.I. was and still is our
favorite haunt. I know many of my friend have individual bars they like to go
to for other reasons, but for when we are all together, it’s the C.I. Our
favorite pastime is to get a basket of peanuts, halve the shell, eat the
peanuts, and then secretly place a half shell on someone’s shoulder as they
stood at the bar or walked by. Bonus points for getting a shell on both their
shoulders. That was a good way to make friends. We also like to run and try to
jump on the high shelf that runs the length of the front wall parallel to the
bar. Few could do it then. Fewer now.
In 1993, I was at the C.I. with
Crazy Jill. We were manning “The Step.”
Before renovations, the C.I. had an odd step up to a platform at the end of the bar and then
step down about 20 feet later. I assume there were pipes running under the
floor or possibly treasure. Either way, The Step was a hazard to many a drunk,
both stepping up and stepping down, and someone needed to help! Jill and I
would stand on either side of the step and ensure that C.I. patrons were aware
of the step. I, being a boy, would focus on telling the girls to watch their
step, usually offering a hand to help them up or down. Jill would help the
boys, usually frisking them on the way past. Both of us always with a, “watch your step!” The people sitting on the
shelf behind us probably wondered what we were doing, but enjoyed the show. I
just thought it was a good way to possibly pick up a girl for the night. Jill thought she might find her future husband, but that was silly.
On one particular night, Crazy Jill
and I were both very drunk and very helpful in escorting people up and down the
stair. At some point, Jill began to help the boys down the step with a solid swat on the butt. This continued for several minutes
until a boy, staggering to the exit, happened to the top of the step. He was quite drunk and,
surprisingly, carrying a camcorder in the palm of his hand. In 1993, a camcorder you could
cup in one hand was expensive and not something you haul around drunk at an
Ohio University bar. He approached the
stair and began to step down. Jill said, “Watch yer step!” and as he started to descend, she swung and
hit his ass. At least she tried to. She missed his butt and instead hit the
camcorder in his hand. He was not holding on through the strap and it went
flying forward. It missed everyone in front of him and hit the floor with a noise
that sounded like five or six pieces of plastic breaking Without missing a
stagger, the guy lumbered forward, picked up the largest chunk of camera, some
of the plastic bits, and walked out the door without a head turn backwards or an
angry word out of his mouth.
We stopped manning the step after
that night. I don’t think it was because of the camcorder incident, but the
quarter was over for me and we never found time to do it again. You never know
when your last night at a bar is going to be. Later the C.I. went through some
renovations and The Step was removed and now there is no The Step.
There is one last bit to this
story. On that last eventful night, one of the people sitting on the shelf and
watching Crazy Jill and I help people up and down the step thought to herself,
“What the hell are these people doing.” And then later, “They just broke that
guy’s video camera!” It wasn’t until my wife and I were married for a few years
that the story of The Step came up and that I was that guy standing in front of
her helping ladies up and down The Step and she was the girl sitting behind me, knowing that was the wrong way to try to pick up girls.
Me and Dr. Kathy Sullivan
This photo:
In 1999, COSI, the Center of Science and Industry, moved from one location to another. On the last day at the old facility, we marched down a few blocks to the new location, which was still under construction. At the new digs, there was a big event to celebrate the move. Everyone on the COSI team had an opportunity to go up on a platform hand get a handshake and a photo with our CEO Dr. Kathy Sullivan and Dimon McFerson, CEO of Nationwide Insurance.
As you can see from this other photo from the event, Stuart (a man who knew beards before they became popular) is posed in the proper position with everyone following protocol.
I had a different plan.
I knew that Kathy and Dimon would continue to follow the procedure of:
1. position team member between the two
2. thank yous
3. hand shakes
4. pose for photo
5. push them off the platform and wait for the next person
My plan was slightly modified in that right before the photo was taken, I was going to turn and kiss Kathy on the cheek.
It was the perfect plan. All my other co-workers were following the rules and doing a great job of keeping the process flowing. I knew that no one else would think to do the turn-and-kiss and once I did it, no one would be able to copy it.
It was finally my turn.
Up on the platform.
Thank you. Thank you.
Handshakes.
Pose for photo.
And...
At the moment that I turned my head to kiss Kathy on the cheek... SHE DID THE SAME.
Our lips met. We both recoiled in surprise with laughter. CLICK!
So now, take a second look at that first photo. We are laughing and wide eyed in surprise. Dimon didn't know what had happened and was a little confused.
I was shuffled off the platform and we all had a good laugh.
I didn't know for a few weeks that the photo was not of us kissing. That's what you got back then with film. The photo was taken just a second too late. I was disappointed that there was no kiss photo, but the picture I have still tells the story.
I wonder if she tells her friends about the time she got to kiss me?
In 1999, COSI, the Center of Science and Industry, moved from one location to another. On the last day at the old facility, we marched down a few blocks to the new location, which was still under construction. At the new digs, there was a big event to celebrate the move. Everyone on the COSI team had an opportunity to go up on a platform hand get a handshake and a photo with our CEO Dr. Kathy Sullivan and Dimon McFerson, CEO of Nationwide Insurance.
As you can see from this other photo from the event, Stuart (a man who knew beards before they became popular) is posed in the proper position with everyone following protocol.
I had a different plan.
I knew that Kathy and Dimon would continue to follow the procedure of:
1. position team member between the two
2. thank yous
3. hand shakes
4. pose for photo
5. push them off the platform and wait for the next person
My plan was slightly modified in that right before the photo was taken, I was going to turn and kiss Kathy on the cheek.
It was the perfect plan. All my other co-workers were following the rules and doing a great job of keeping the process flowing. I knew that no one else would think to do the turn-and-kiss and once I did it, no one would be able to copy it.
It was finally my turn.
Up on the platform.
Thank you. Thank you.
Handshakes.
Pose for photo.
And...
At the moment that I turned my head to kiss Kathy on the cheek... SHE DID THE SAME.
Our lips met. We both recoiled in surprise with laughter. CLICK!
So now, take a second look at that first photo. We are laughing and wide eyed in surprise. Dimon didn't know what had happened and was a little confused.
I was shuffled off the platform and we all had a good laugh.
I didn't know for a few weeks that the photo was not of us kissing. That's what you got back then with film. The photo was taken just a second too late. I was disappointed that there was no kiss photo, but the picture I have still tells the story.
I wonder if she tells her friends about the time she got to kiss me?
Should I update my birthday on Twitter? No.
If you lied about your birthday when you started your Twitter account, don't ever update it. Twitter will lock your account until your age is cleared up and that can take months or possibly forever.
Under The European Union’s General Data Protection Regulation (GDPR), Twitter is locking the accounts of anyone who may of posted anything while they were under 13 years of age. If you update your birthday, they run the math backwards, see that you were under 13 when you posted, and lock the account so that they do not get into trouble. It's dumb, but it's the easy way to make sure they don't run into trouble.
Q. Should I update your birthday on Twitter?
A. No.
Q. What if I have updated my birthday and I am not locked out of my account.
A. You are screwed.
Q. No, really, what should I do?
A. Follow these steps as suggested by Twitter: https://help.twitter.com/en/managing-your-account/locked-and-limited-accounts
Under The European Union’s General Data Protection Regulation (GDPR), Twitter is locking the accounts of anyone who may of posted anything while they were under 13 years of age. If you update your birthday, they run the math backwards, see that you were under 13 when you posted, and lock the account so that they do not get into trouble. It's dumb, but it's the easy way to make sure they don't run into trouble.
Q. Should I update your birthday on Twitter?
A. No.
Q. What if I have updated my birthday and I am not locked out of my account.
A. You are screwed.
Q. No, really, what should I do?
A. Follow these steps as suggested by Twitter: https://help.twitter.com/en/managing-your-account/locked-and-limited-accounts
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