A cheesey work kumbaya thing.

I thought about doing the drug-dealer-in-the-bathroom-with-the-drug-dog scene from Reservoir Dogs. A friend said i should just start singing Purple Rain and crying.

All that you project comes back in.   Especially in facebookiness-space, the space between meat-space and cyber-space, cordially awkward social encounters and interactions.   All that you project is a massage of a memory and a wish, and the nature you’re stuck with. How do you project yourself?

• I have smuggled wild animals across the US-Mexican border
• I built a backdoor into Ticketmaster’s ticketing system that would enable me to get access into any event.
• I was saved from exhaustion in the San Juan Mountains by a van full of political extremists, and I asked them to let me out
• I missed getting killed in the 1993 WTC bombing by 5 minutes
• I got a tattoo of my daughters’ birthdays from a professional MMA fighter

 

I have smuggled wild animals across the US-Mexican border

TRUTH

I built a backdoor into Ticketmaster’s ticketing system that would enable me to get access into any event.

LIE. I did not build it. I designed it. It doesn’t exist.

I was saved from exhaustion in the San Juan Mountains by a van full of political extremists, and I asked them to let me out

TRUTH

After 2-3 min of pleasantries and where ya froms, they dive into shooting all those wetbacks and Jan Brewer the Philosopher King. Miles I did not have to slog up in my bike shoes ticked off so slowly.

I missed getting killed in the 1993 WTC bombing by 5 minutes

LIE. Happened to one of my very best friends.

I got a tattoo of my daughters’ birthdays from a professional MMA fighter

TRUTH