Share All the Things

I think Google+ should be more than it is.

Right now it’s basically another Facebook with better features. The social grouping is better, the messaging is better, and the video conferencing is better, but each of those can already be found in good enough quality on Facebook. Unfortunately, better messaging isn’t going to get Joe Average to sit down in front of his computer and try something new. Circles are great, but they aren't going to get Joanne Normal to dump her 300+ strong social network.

Esque

Hey, non-nerds, did ya enjoy Marvel's The Avengers? You did? Well, that's great. Us nerds are glad to hear it.

Did you know that one guy co-wrote AND directed it? His name is Joss Whedon.

Geraldo Rivera Doesn't Care About Hoodies!

I know, non-existent reader, I know. I've been gone for a long time. I should leave blogging to the people who actually blog.

And you might be right. I haven't written anything for Jasonocity in a long time.

I would have stayed away.

But then this happened.

The Fun in Fundamentals

I was in sixth or seventh grade when my English teacher told us we had to read Lord of the Flies. Big mistake.

Here’s what twelve-year-old me thought about that book: It sucked. There were a bunch of boys. Most of them didn’t have names because they weren’t important. One boy was good. One boy was bad. One boy was really fat and out of shape. And there was a conch. I had no idea what a conch was and I wasn’t about to look it up. I yawned when I found out the fat boy died.

Gay Chickens Are Gay

There's a Chick-fil-A down the street from my townhome. I haven't eaten their food in over a year.

I Hate New Year's

Most people really like New Year's, and I get that. I really do. I'm just not one of those people.

New Year's is another excuse to party. Wonderful. I do it too. Partying is a great way to seem somewhat normal, so I shower, I get dressed, and I remember to put on deoderant. I drive to where the people are and I get my party on. Sometimes I even smile.

Jobs

There must have been at least a dozen of us standing in the playground. We'd just barely learned how to dress ourselves in the morning, but there we were, pumping our arms, hooting and hollering, and hoping the driver would see.

And he did. He blasted his horn just as his ginormous semi-truck rolled by. Again and again he pulled down on that handle, letting us know he'd seen us and we'd connected. He honked and we hollered and echoed his roar as he disappeared down the street.