Relevant Links


Hello friends and followers. I’m plotting to move to Chicago in the next few months, and am currently on the job hunt. I’ll have more information about my search and an updated LinkedIn page to boot coming shortly. In the meanwhile, here are all the links to my currently relevant information, in case you want to keep up with what I’m doing.

Follow me on Twitter:  (@shorester)

I am posting new chapters of my family friendly fantasy story, Spellbound Sword, every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday on Wattpad. Click here to read Spellbound Sword. You can also read my other posted Wattpad stories here.

I’ve started a Discord chat page. If you’d like to chat with me about my writing or other hobbies, join here. It’s just a fun place to share information and gifs and have some laughs. I’ll also be posting updates there too, but it’s a good way to talk to me directly.

I’ll probably update this post with more information soon, so please check back.


New Short Film – Thunk in Public

I play Billy the hot-pocket addled techno-geek in the new short film “Thunk in Public” by Ryan Maples. I had a really good time working with this particular cast and crew. The entire movie was shot on the new Nokia N8 cell phone as part of a festival sponsored by Nokia. I hope you enjoy.

Botched Pick-Up Lines

Sometimes on Twitter a magical thing happens. People, unified by love for one particularly comical idea create a hashtag pitch session in which they all contribute the funniest zingers they can imagine to a particular trend or topic as annotated by the formula ‘#bullshit.’ With this in mind, I’d like to share with you my entries into the genre of #botchedpickuplines.

“Is that a mouse in your pocket, or are you just happy to be a transvestite? Either way, I’m interested and desperate.” #botchedpickuplines

“A woman is like a work of art. Inevitably, she’ll be clinging to my mudflaps.” #botchedpickuplines

“Say, who’s your fat friend over there?” #botchedpickuplines

“Are you tired? Because you’ve been running from me in my mind all day.” #botchedpickuplines

“This is the first time I’ve seen a creature as beautiful as you outside of my uncle’s barn.” #botchedpickuplines

“Top five rape fantasies! Go!” #botchedpickuplines

“You’ve never seen Eraserhead ’til you’ve seen it on Roofies.” #botchedpickuplines

“I seduce women like a dairy farmer. How appropriate! You look like a cow.” #botchedpickuplines

“Is your father a baker? Because I’m into anal beads.” #botchedpickuplines

“KNIFE to meet you!” #stab “Whoops.” #botchedpickuplines

“Let’s go see ‘Eat, Pray, Love’ together! I hear bitches like you love that shit.” #botchedpickuplines

“If you were a laser gun, you’d be set to ‘Calibrate Internal Heat Function’ for four hours.” #botchedpickuplines

“ACCEPT MY SEED.” #botchedpickuplines

“You’re the kind of girl who’d like to hear a dark secret revealed immediately after sex, I can tell. So bend over.” #botchedpickuplines

“When you walked in, the entire room lit up. And all the roaches scattered.” #botchedpickuplines

“You’re the most beautiful woman in this entire outhouse.” #botchedpickuplines

“Can I buy you a drink? You look like the kind who’d need one after whatever her father did to her.” #botchedpickuplines

“Do you come here often? To Confession, I mean.” #botchedpickuplines

“Pre-op or post-op?” #botchedpickuplines

“Of course I’m pro-choice. Pulling out is MY choice, isn’t it?” #botchedpickuplines

“Are you an orphan? Because I would kill your parents to bang you.” #botchedpickuplines

“No, I was never actually President. But I did travel around the country with a very interesting slide-show.” #botchedpickuplines

“I just saw the vagina monologues, and you’ve got something I’d like to re-reclaim.” #botchedpickuplines

“Your face reminds me of a great ‘Three Stooges.'” #botchedpickuplines

“Do you believe in love at first sight? Try making eye contact with that other chick over there…” #botchedpickuplines

“I know it seems far-fetched, but I would really like to hump you.” #botchedpickuplines

“Do you believe in soul mates? What about Sasquatch?” #botchedpickuplines

“You remind me of that one song by The Police. EEEEE-OOO-EEEE-OOO!!!” #botchedpickuplines #loudsirennoises

“Hey, you seem mentally retarded. My name is Edward Cullen.” #botchedpickuplines

“Hey there, nerd. Might I interest you in my Big Wang Theory?” #botchedpickuplines

“The only thing that could keep me away from you are the steel bars that currently are.” #botchedpickuplines

“I’m a Shakespeare scholar. Mind if I Ophelia?” #botchedpickuplines

“When I look into your eyes I see the reflection of a very handsome man staring back.” #botchedpickuplines

“You’re the reason cavemen chiseled on walls. One look at you, and you left them no escape.” #botchedpickuplines

“When I’m alone, I feel like half of a sack of shit. You complete me.” #botchedpickuplines

“Did you ever notice your deformity?” #botchedpickuplines

“Love is unpredictable. My psychic told me to tell you that.” #botchedpickuplines

“You could win a beauty pageant, even if no one else entered.” #botchedpickuplines

“What’s a White Castle parking lot like you doing around an okay-looking woman like this?” #botchedpickuplines

“Foreplay can be exciting, so long as you don’t muss my TRON bedspread.” #botchedpickuplines

“The brain is the sexiest organ. Which raises the question – your brain or mine?” #botchedpickuplines

“As long as you’re not into strength or duration, I think we could have something here.” #botchedpickuplines

“Let’s just both keep drinking ’til one of us turns pretty.” #botchedpickuplines

“Ever frenched a guy with detachable teeth?” #botchedpickuplines

“You ladies into bad boys? Hand over your purses. Now.” #botchedpickuplines

“Nice cheekbones. Only they’d look a lot better crumpled up on my bedroom floor…” #botchedpickuplines

“Bet I can guess your weight to within three hundred pounds!” #botchedpickuplines

“You remind me on an Angel. Yep, Angel “Hot Rod” Sanders, fastest dirtbike racer on the track.” #botchedpickuplines

“You’re like Danny Devito’s character in Space Jam. Unforgettable.” #botchedpickuplines

“You’re old enough to be my mother, and it never stopped me before.” #botchedpickuplines

“I couldn’t help but notice you from across the tomb.” #botchedpickuplines

“Your hair smells incredible. Even just this thick clump in my hand…Ahh…” #botchedpickuplines

“Your eyes are like the stars. The light inside them died long before they reached me here tonight.” #botchedpickuplines

“Bet I can guess your race in three gestures!” #botchedpickuplines

“You’re like the Sinead O’Connor of women.” #botchedpickuplines

“I bet you’ve never seen a car like mine before. It’s invisible. We’re in it right now.” #botchedpickuplines

“You remind me of a battleship. Tall, majestic, and soon to be covered in seamen.” #botchedpickuplines

“C’mon, Hillary. I just think after all the campaigning I did, you could wear the beret ONE time.” #botchedpickuplines

Thanks for reading. Hope you enjoyed them. If you’d like to Retweet any of these and share them with your followers, simply click the linked hashtags next to the joke you want to Retweet. Once you’re on the Tweet’s page you can click ‘Retweet’ from there. Let me know if you actually use any of these!

My Breakfast with Wyclef

We are badasses.

This morning I woke up semi-groggy from the aftermath of Brittania karaoke and a hugely successful improv show, vaguely remembering that yes, today was the day I was supposed to meet Wyclef. Still skeptical and shocked that the whole thing was possible and reeling from a day full of friendly jokes about the situation, I shot out of bed and stumbled to the shower unsure of what to expect. One of my comrades cleverly suggested that I was about to be punk’d, that the whole thing was a scam set up by Ashton Kutcher’s twitter account. I brushed those thoughts aside, threw on my best Mr. Sparkle t-shirt and headed toward Sunset. I remembered that Jay, Wyclef’s assistant, had told me the place was right near the House of Blues. (At this time I am willing to divulge that the secret location of our meeting was in fact the perfect place for Wyclef’s new worldwide social movement: the international house of pancakes!) I dropped my car off at the meter and strolled by the Comedy Store to ask a guy where the iHop was. He pointed down the long hill south on Olive Street. It seemed wrong, but the guy worked at the Store so he had to know the area fairly well. Time was running short, and Wyclef had just sent a message to his followers saying “don’t be late!” I headed down the hill and after asking a supermodel-ish brunette for further directions, I found myself on Santa Monica right near Barney’s Beanery. There stood the glorious iHop, and I headed inside.

The place looked deserted. Aside from a few dining families, there was no sign of an international hip-hop sensation. I asked the hostess if there was another iHop in the area. She said that there was, but that it was on Sunset and Orange. Something triggered in my memory, and I recalled that Jay had mentioned Orange Avenue. “Is it in walking distance?” I asked. “No. Not that place,” she replied.

Like a bolt of lightning I shot back up the hill on Olive Avenue, sweating and panting like Chris Farley on a treadmill. Through asthmatic puffs of breath and beads of sweat dripping down my glasses I managed to jog uphill while Google mapping the intersection on my phone. Most disappointingly, the real iHop was even closer to my home than the one I’d just visited. Sweltering from the heat and my own physical inadequacies I surmounted Olive Avenue, jetted back down Sunset, popped in my car and cranked the A/C. Last night’s late night drinking hadn’t helped my hydration any, and I was definitely feeling it now. I called Jay to let him know I’d be a few minutes late (the clock had just hit 10:00 AM on the dime). Jay seemed laid-back and let me know he’d pass the message along to Wyclef. I felt a little more at ease.

When I rolled into iHop (the one across from In ‘N Out near Sunset & LaBrea, NOT the closest one to the House of Blues, although I can see how an out-of-towner could easily make that mistake) I was a sweaty mess. My Simpsons shirt was clinging to my body like a baby marmoset, and I was dripping beads like a slutty girl at Mardi Gras. I walked inside and saw a long table of about twelve people. There at the center, like a hip-hop messiah at his own last supper, sat the man himself, Wyclef Jean. He was looking slick in a white button down shirt with close-cropped hair and I looked like I’d just been on the Rotor at Geauga Lake. I sidled up to the table and strangely enough, Wyclef recognized me from my twitter picture. I reintroduced myself and shook his hand. They added some extra spots at the table and I sat down next to some adorable little girls, maybe six and eight years of age. Wyclef came over briefly to inquire about my background. I gave him a little run-down of my travels from the past four years and told him that I was sorry I was late but I had to run uphill to get here. He was calm cool and collected, as you might expect, and seemed to have little need for apologies or formality. The more time I spent in his company the more I realized he was a man who respects honesty and generosity of character, that no amount of schmoozing could ever win this guy over.

After downing five glasses of water and meeting a few more people, the lady in charge of Wyclef’s new website started broadcasting a live streaming video of our breakfast. I briefly got to do a shout-out to the web where I pimped my blog and stated my appreciation for Wyclef’s approach to Twitter and social media. I wasn’t sure if we were broadcasting live at that point, or if I was being recorded for a future video montage, so I apologize if I seemed unprepared, awkward or incredibly sweaty. According to most people, I am less sweaty in person, I promise.

Wyclef bought us all breakfast and I got to chat with a guy named Grafiki about his idea for a new webisode series. It sounded pretty cool so we exchanged contact information and promised to keep in touch. Noticing Grafiki had left his seat across from Wyclef to talk to me and had now sidled over to a nearby table featuring two very attractive ladies, I took the opportunity to pop closer to Clef and ask him a few questions.

Me: So what’s the next step for this online community?

Wyclef explained that gathering more support, followers (or Warriors, as we like to be called) and creating a real community is the next step. Wyclef envisions a world where artists and fans can interact directly without big business getting involved. While labels and traditional marketing companies have been helpful throughout Clef’s career, there have been times when they have failed to promote certain events correctly or have misread his intentions. Clef dreams of cutting out the middle man and connecting to people directly, so that the true fans can share their messages and stories with the world and also experience the music firsthand. He wants to create more autonomous flash-mob style events rather than big corporate stadium shows.

Me: How do you feel about file-sharing? Has it affected you directly?

Wyclef replied, “With the economy the way it is, you can’t expect people to buy something without giving something away for free.” Yesterday Jay sent me some of Wyclef’s newest tracks. Not only were they incredible, it was a great taste of the things to come on his latest album and they definitely made me hungry for more. Wyclef believes that if you let the people sample the music, they’re more likely to buy the album when it drops.

Me: I think people really respond to your honesty on Twitter. I follow a lot of celebrities, but most of them just crack jokes and you don’t feel like you ever get to know them as human beings. That’s not the case with you.

Wyclef thanked me and said that for him “Twitter is a lot like a psychiatrist…sometimes you’re feeling sad and you don’t want anyone around you to know that you’re sad, so you just- [pantomimes typing on phone]”. We laughed and it was clear that many people at the table could relate. It was interesting that he thought of Twitter as a cathartic release, a form of expression. I didn’t get to follow up on this point, but I would have assumed that his music was his primary form of catharsis. Perhaps the nature of the music industry, big business and traditional marketing had changed the nature of music in his eyes, that what was once performative and expressive had become a full-time job. Twitter and Clef Zone seem to be Wyclef’s method for combatting that stagnancy and despondency that often follows the stress of work. Now he can connect with fans all the time, whether or not his album is getting press.

I asked a few more questions, but the answers were mostly covered by Wyclef’s toast at the end of the meal. He thanked everyone for coming and for their support (especially the wonderful woman who constructed his new website and ran the webcast) and then reiterated that anything is possible with this sort of grassroots movement. He used to ride a donkey in Haiti and now he lives in a McMansion in the states. Anything is possible, but it all starts from communities like the one sitting around him at the table and the gathering masses online. He envisions outdoor shows in parks and creating new content for the streaming video on his website so that it runs twenty-four/seven like a real television channel. Clef suggested that everyone records everything, films whatever they see and shares it with the world (a sentiment echoed by my newfound friends at Found Magazine).

We took a few photos and said our goodbyes. As we were parting I asked the question I’d been dying to ask since I’d started chatting with the man: When are we going to see another Fugees reunion? Clef cracked a slight smile and said that I should look for it sometime next year. Yes. God Yes. I’ll be blaring Fu-Gee-La all day, every day until it happens! Thanks, Clef!

If you haven’t already signed up for Clef Zone, started following @wyclef (or me: @shorester) on Twitter, I suggest you do so now. If this isn’t a story about the magic and wonder of Twitter, I don’t know what is.