Tuesday, January 31

Blog Becomes 'Unholy Bitch Mistress' After 1 Week

CHICAGO (AP) -- It seemed like a good idea at the time. Luke Penca was going to post his witty rants and preposterously fake wire service stories to his new Myspace.com blog on a daily basis.

"I felt I could bring a refreshing point of view -- my view -- to the millions of readers who stumbled onto [my blog]," said Penca. "But then I ran out of ideas after only four days. Jesus, maybe I'm not as funny nor nearly as deep as I originally thought!"

Now that his blog situation has become untenable, Penca is clearly at his wit's end.

"Perhaps, I was a bit too ambitious and really should have researched this whole blog idea a little bit better. I do read other people's blogs everyday but I guess I never really thought about how they have to feed their unholy bitch mistress, too."

Friends of Penca are equally dismayed at what the blog has meant.

"I have to clam up whenever he's around for fear that what I say is going to wind up quoted on that [blog]. Or, let me be frank, misquoted!" exclaimed Andrew H., one of Penca's closest friends and a collaborator on past projects.

However, hope remains for Penca's blog and he isn't ready to fold it in quite yet.

"Somewhere in my messy room, there is a little black book that has ideas jotted down," said Penca. "Plus, I could always bring in a guest blogger for a fresh perspective. But the real 'coup de grace' for writer's block is that I can always do sh*t jokes if need be."

To be sure, plenty of writers have survived on scatological references and behavior, so why shouldn't Penca prostitute himself as well for an easy laugh?

Only time will tell.

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Monday, January 30

"Center-of-the-Picture" Guy?

I've been searching my digital archives looking for photographs to upload to MySpace and, as many readers know, the process can be a difficult task. We search and search for that right picture, the one that conveys us perfectly and then we censor and crop until only we remain. We draw in the borders so tightly that all context and environment is lost. The picture has been distilled down to its barest elements, so that in its simplified form we'll stand out. We're only amplified because we've muted all else.

But I'm not really a "center-of-the-picture" guy and there is valuable information that I've been lopping off my pictures. I rationalize that it's just a technical constraint placed on the medium that we're all employing so we can differentiate ourselves and engage in a little self-promotion.

And that's all that we're really trying to do here: cut through the clutter, rise above the din. We do it in the most vainglorious of approaches: "look at me, see only me". We shine the klieg lights so brightly upon ourselves in the hopes that our lines and faults will be washed away in a sea of white, redeeming light.

But it shouldn't be like that really. We're human beings, replete with our many facets and inclusions whose complexity constitutes our uniqueness as individuals. And that's what I love about others: something gritty and real not plasticized and sanitized existences.

This will be a recurring theme here and I'll revisit it soon. And interesting closing thought is that while I seek the "realness" of others, I cannot always accept it in myself.

(To be continued.)

Sunday, January 29

Friend Who Recommended 'AMLP' Rebuked, Relapses

CHICAGO (AP) -- When Chris T. battled his addictions he found solace and inspiration in James Frey's "A Million Little Pieces", the now-discredited book about drug addiction and recovery.

"A year ago, I had my demons and 'Pieces' really helped me get through a tough time in my life," said T. "This was way before that Oprah bitch got her grubby paws on [the book]. And because it was so powerful I recommended it to my close friends, boy, do I feel stupid now."

One of those people who T. recommended AMLP to was Luke Penca, his roommate.

"I felt that I had to read it because T. was so profoundly affected by it and he's a good friend," said Penca. "But the truth is, I couldn't get past Frey's unique grammar; it was too distracting. Nevertheless, I told T. that I finished it and what's worse is that I recommended 'AMLP' to my friends, in turn."

Now Penca is angry because he feels misled in light of TheSmokingGun.com investigation which illustrated key fabrications of the book and Oprah's public admonishment of the author for his lies.

"There was betrayal everywhere and I took my anger out on T. In retrospect, that was probably a bad idea."

Indeed it was as the turn of events has exacted a heavy toll on T. leading to his relapse.

"There's no more whiskey in the house and even the bottles of vodka in the freezer are gone," said a frustrated Penca. "I guess it's only a matter of time until he's [vomiting] out the passenger window of my car again."

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Saturday, January 28

Coming Soon to a Theatre Near You

[Interior of speeding RV, Jodi in supine position clearly pregnant and in labor. Zoom, her husband, is next to her trying to help. Friends Kevin and Luke stand aside somewhat confounded but ready to assist in any way. Hank is driving erratically]

Zoom: Hold on, honey, we're almost to the hospital.

Jodi: (between Lamaze breaths and sweating) I'm not going to deliver my baby in a goddamn recreational vehicle in the middle of f*ckin' nowhere.

Zoom: It's not 'nowhere', honey. It's Iowa.

Jodi: There are f*ckin' cornfields on the f*ckin' left and f*ckin' cornfields on the f*ckin' right! We're f*ckin' nooooowhere, okay!

Zoom: It'll be okay, hon, We're almost there. Iowa City is just over this hill... See?

[RV crests hill only to be engulfed in more endless corn. Jodi glares at him]

Jodi: Face it, Zoom, we're lost. Oh, this is not how I imagined we would bring a baby into this world.

[Jodi has another contraction]

Kevin: (reading his watch) They're getting closer.

Luke: What?

Kevin: The contractions. (holding watch up) See they're only three minutes apart.

Luke: (to Kevin) Man, that baby's imminent. (louder) Hank, where are we?

Hank: (from the front seat) Dude, we're getting close! Oh man, when we get there it's gonna be like salvation. Mark my words: salvation.

[Confused, Kevin and Luke look at one another]

Jodi: (to no one in particular) Why God? Why? All I want to do is have this baby. IN A F*CKING HOSPITAL! WITH GODDAMN DOCTORS AROUND! (begins to cry) And here I am in the most surreal set of circumstances: lost in the middle of Iowa, driving down a dusty road in a rented RV navigated by an idiot during the hottest f*ckin' week of the year. Why? Why me? ... I could have stayed home. I could have had my family with me. (directing her anger to Zoom now) But, nooooo, you had to go ride RAGBRAI with your friends. "Come along, it'll be fun," you said. "We'll have a great time," you said. (coldly, setting the dagger) Well, Zoom, I am not having a great time.

Zoom: (trying to reassure her) It'll be okay, dear.

Hank: We're here!

[Jubilation erupts, Zoom, Kevin and Luke ready Jodi to the RV door, it swings open and ... instead of a hospital emergency room entrance, they are staring at Panchero's, a burrito joint.]

Jodi: Oh my God!

[The sound of Jodi's water breaking]

Luke: (to Kevin) I don't think Zoom's getting his RV deposit back.

[Fade out]



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Friday, January 20

Area Man Sends Self Email

CHICAGO (AP) -- A Wicker Park man has been spamming his own mailbox in order to fill the void of a boring day at work. Luke Penca, 30, works as a technology consultant for a local firm and has entirely too much time on his hands it would seem.

"I just can't get through a Friday afternoon without the 'ding' of arriving messages," said a frustrated Penca. "I'll add my buddies to the distribution list in the faint hopes of a courtesy laugh response email."

Mr. Penca's latest drivel examines the mundane minutiae of a life unfulfilled. His work, while prodigious, lacks any overall structure or meaning and often serves no purpose but to exist for its own sake.

Andrew H., an attorney and acquaintance of Penca, is exasperated by the emails he has received. "I bill out upwards of $200 per hour and I've got to wade through this torrent of email. I mean, come on, I can't ignore my Inbox. What if a client sent me a note or TheOnion passed along a teaser message? Really."

The productivity loss of Penca's emails are staggering says John H., a valuations expert who received his M.B.A. from the University of Chicago's elite business school and is also a friend of Penca.

"I figure that each message wastes a half hour of lost concentration for me personally," he said. "When you extrapolate that amount across the list of friends receiving the email, and some of those guys barely know [Penca], it's overwhelming."

Addiction cited

But all may not be lost for Penca as his friends plan to hold an intervention.

"We're going to sit him down and tell him how his actions hurt us all," said Chris T., another one of Penca's friends. "If that doesn't work, I'm going to break his thumbs so he can't type. Or at least type as fast. Hell, I've punched people in the face for less."

Until that happens, however, Penca's friends will have to endure a steady stream of meaningless messages being cast into cyberspace, where they have little choice but to delete them as fast as they can.

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Cat Emancipated From Shut-In

CHICAGO (AP) -- Heralding a sea change in American jurisprudence, a domesticated pet has successfully petitioned to be emancipated from its owner.

"Zoe", a prepubescent Siamese cat and catnip aficionado, has cited "irreconcilable differences" between her and her owner, Andrew.

"I mean, I know I'm like a Siamese and all, but it's unnatural to be so connected at the hip," purred Zoe. "Come on, we're not [expletive] Cheng and Eng!" she said, referring to famous performing conjoined twin brothers of the early 20th century.

Zoe asked that her owner develop his own interests on the weekends to which Andrew curtly replied, "My friends are bastards."

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Area Man Missing Amid Foul Play Concerns

Chicago Tribune link

CHICAGO (AP) -- It was not unusual for Drew V. to take off for a few days without telling his friends or family. He always came back.

But nearly two hours ago, V. vanished after sending an email suggesting his very disappearance. Now V.'s friends and the Weekend Party police are asking for the public's help in locating the 29-year-old man, who was last seen Jan. 27th.

About 1:00 P.M. that day, V. emailed a very terse reply, according to a friend who received a copy of the message, police said. V. told his friends he'd be up to "whatever alternative activities I can entertaim myself with", said police spokesman Roland S.

Despite the cryptically worded message and prepositionally-ended sentence, V.'s friends remain cautiously optimistic about a reunion this weekend.

"I've got a wife at home and a baby on the way, and I'll still be out," said Dung B., a friend of the missing man. "So if I can do it, damn it, V. can do it, too."

B. also goes by the name Zoom, or the nickname "Cheeseburger."

"He's a nice person," said his brother Kevin, who added that Drew doesn't drink or do drugs. "He used to go to the church on Sunday. ... He has a lot of friends. We don't know what happened."

Police waited to release information about V.'s disappearance until they had exhausted all other leads, S. said.

V. is described as 6 feet 2 inches tall and weighing 180 pounds, with black hair and two eyes. Anyone with information is asked to call 773-425-xxxx.

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Wednesday, January 18

Nightswimming

I'm sitting here with tears streaming down my face.
My iPod has "Nightswimming" on a continuous loop.
I remember how alive we felt in the water's embrace.
The rush of adrenaline and the vagaries of youth.