Here’s my script for the romantic comedy I’ve been working on:
Character Descriptions:
Guy: Relaxed, maybe sometimes a little too relaxed. Handsome but doesn’t milk it. Loves babies and building things with his bare hands while reading and earning money by doing some unspecified yet incredibly lucrative job that gives him an enormous amount of free time.
Girl: Drop-dead gorgeous, but hidden by her pulled back hair and glasses. Uptight and very work-oriented, a little too work-oriented. Wants to be loved, but is too focused on her career to realize that. Klutzy, but only to the adorable, not pathological point.
Guy: Hi
Girl: Hi. I don’t like/trust you OR I don’t have time for a relationship.
Guy: Come on
Girl: You are so infuriating!
Guy:…Come on….
Pause.
Guy talks to comedic best friend (less attractive/bald nonthreatening guy friend) about Girl.
Guy: I really like her
Friend: Go for it man. (says something funny)
Girl talks to her comedic best friend (less attractive/shorter/full-figured nonthreatening girl friend) about Guy.
Girl: I really like him.
Friend: (laughing) If you don’t want him, I’ll take him. (They laugh)
Guy and Girl meet again. Girl does something klutzy. Guy watches bemused/helps her up. They laugh. Dramatic pause. They kiss. Montage of falling in love.
Girl and Guy kiss again.
Guy: I have a problem
Girl: I have a problem too.
Guy: Oh no.
Girl: Oh no.
Sad montage without each other. Respective comedic friends try to cheer them up over wine (for the girls) and beer (for the guys).
Guy and Girl run into each other at coffee shop/top of iconic building/in New York City.
Guy: Wait, I’m okay. Love you.
Girl: Me too. (Pulls hair down).
They kiss. Comedic friends say something funny.
Roll credits.
…for world domination.

Diamonds are, for the most part, total dicks.
Speaking the truth since 270,000,000 B.C.E.,
Rock

1) Planning any sort of gathering between friends is fraught with peril. Instead, invite only enemies or people that irritate you, and all the scheduling hiccups and lowered expectations can easily be blamed on those jerks you invited, rather than your complete inability to organize a thought, let alone an event.
2) Printers only fail when you really REALLY need them to work. Therefore, do what I do, cut out the middleman and develop a photographic memory instead (pun absolutely intended).
3) “Blockbuster”/Action movie posters use too much blue and orange together. Seriously, take a look the next time you see a poster or billboard for the latest superhero prequel/sequel/trilogy/parody (or just see below). Instead they should utilize more purple and gold (go Huskies!)
4) Bloody Mary will always be either an extremely disappointing sleepover game for tween girls or an extremely disappointing drink for vampires.
5) Any sentence that starts with the phrase “in this economy” is going to suck.
6) The Prius looks like a really lame alien’s used car. They should bring back the DeLorean instead.
7) Listening to others’ opinions is ill-advised, except if you are you listening to me.

When did 9 to 5 become 8 to 6? I’m just curious, because that song got stuck in my head today and I realized that, as I hummed along to the 5 second section of the melody I actually remembered, 9 to 5 is a rarity these days. G has 9 to 5 but M has 9 to 6 and when those two lovebirds lived in the desert hell of LaLaLand it was more like 8 to 6 each day (not including commute times of course). Granted it was nice for me, all that blissful alone time, but they came home every day exhausted and grumpy, which ruined many an otherwise pleasant evening.
Also, what happened to the now mythical lunch hour? Nowadays it is not only acceptable, but rather expected that you take short lunches, or none at all, resorting to the joy of eating a lean cuisine at your desk. That sounds like hell in a cubicle to me (of course, “hell in cubicle” is redundant). What happened to taking a break from work to clear your mind? I know after several hours of hard work surfing the internet I need time to step outside, gain some perspective, then dive back into the joys and perils of YouTube.
One last question, since I’m on this “fascinating” topic - why only two weeks vacation? Why do children get an entire summer off, while adults, who are older, slower, and closer to dying, have to get by on a measly two weeks? And some don’t even get that? And the ones that do, don’t even take the two weeks at all, because if they do, the work will just pile up? What the f?
I’m just one rock, and I certainly don’t have any desire to change the world for the better (for the worse, that’s a different story), but in my not-so-humble opinion, you stupid humans are working yourselves to death. Stop it! You guys are hard enough to deal with when you’re well-rested, let alone when you’re over-worked and underpaid. So do the rest of the earth a favor and stop being a martyr for your stupid company (they won’t appreciate it anyway). Take a long lunch, take a day off, and please please please take a fricken’ vacation! And if your boss doesn’t like it, well I don’t know what to say about that other than that guy/girl is a prick.
It’s Sunday. The day of battle. The day where my fate as rock is decided. Where I muster all my strength and lift my heavy month-old burden onto my shoulders and bravely face the world of tomorrow with the waste of the past, trying desperately to wash it “fresh again with true love tears” (thank you Shakespeare).
Today, I carry all the pain of life’s weary days on my back and traverse the treacherous slope of stairs out into the harsh sun of the outside world. My sweat and tears mix with the effort and pain of anticipated battle. I walk the blazing sidewalks, dodging speeding cars and crazed mothers with strollers. I cry out in pain when the blinking hand of fate tells me to yield to the minions of the street. Finally the angel in white tells me it is safe to pass. I do so with steel-faced courage.
Finally, after what feels like a fortnight, I make it to a towering entrance ominously painted in serpent’s green and the blood of lost souls. The doors open with a mighty roar. I breathe what may be my last breath, close my eyes and enter the abyss.
Will I make it out alive? Will I die a warrior’s death? Only the fates can tell. The war has begun.
It is laundry day.

Entry from rock’s journal dated June 15th, 2010 (please note, that due to the fact that rock believes my entries are boring, rock will be taking over most blogging from this point forward)
G left me at home today and I’m bored. There is only so much internet surfing, Cracked.com reading I can do before I become completely saturated with useless information. Plus, my email, which is usually overflowing with new messages from cool people (I’m very popular, in case you don’t know yet) is surprisingly empty. I keep hitting refresh, expecting a new email to flash out in bright, white bold, but instead I am stuck staring at the banal, regular font of old, checked, and discarded emails.
I could, of course, read, or meditate, or try to better myself in some way. I could even condescend to do some chores, but I don’t want to. To be honest, I’d rather sit here steeped in inactivity, then bother getting up and doing something to alleviate this ennui (I took French a while back - another thing that makes me awesome). Alas, (I can wax poetic too) all too often, laziness rides in on the back of boredom to paralyze.
I think I’ll watch some tv.

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