Mindflowers reader Grafthis politely asked me to repost these instructions. Please hold the screen and cough.
Self Improvement
Archived Posts from this Category
December 12, 2008
Flowchart: How to live your life
Posted by j.j. under Adventure, How to, Self Improvement[3] Comments
November 24, 2008
Wanna see my new tattoo?
Oh, you could already see it since I’m wearing a tank top?
Yes, it did hurt like hell…or that’s what my friend who watched it go down told me after I sobered up.
Its not much to look at right now, I know.
This one just sets up the characters you know. Kinda introduces the archetypes that will be appearing. What I like about this first one is that it works as a stand alone project.
Its got its own merit.
But this isn’t the end. No. There’s gonna be a sequel.
Dude. Check out my new tattoo! Oh, you could see it since I’m not wearing a shirt?
I forgot that I wasn’t.
This one is a little darker isn’t it? You see, I knew that my audience had aged and would be a little more jaded than last time. There’s definitely some surprises in there huh?
Well, as if you couldn’t guess, there’s gonna be another one. Kinda to wrap up the loose ends.
I know, I know, it’ll be hard to wait but it’ll definitely be worth it when it all comes together.
Hi. What’s up?
Not much. I just uh, been hanging out.
What? A tattoo? The last installment of my tattoo trilogy?
Yeah. Uh…Its done. I uh gotta run and pick up my niece….okay, okay.
Here. Look.
There were production problems. I don’t know where it went wrong.
The story was there, but I guess its just past its time now huh?
Shoulda struck while the iron was hot. All the themes that seemed so
pertinent under the Bush administration just aren’t as applicable in today’s new culture of “hope”.
I blame it on the lighting. It just looks fake. The first Hulk movie had better graphics.
Oh well. Hey! I got this great idea for the next tattoo though: A remake of my first tattoo but this time set in the future!
July 14, 2008
Advice Column For The Dregs of Society: Ask Ryan
Posted by Ryan McGivern under How to, Questions, Self Improvement | Tags: Advice and Wisdom |No Comments
Here at MindFlowers, our editoral staff are constantly receiving questions such as “what’s the best way to wipe? Frontside Ollie or Backdoor Hufflepuff?”
So to help you, the average internet-dwelling, light-aversive, fanboy, we’ve decided to take your questions and pitiful pleas for help in a new endeavor called “Ask Ryan”.
Here’s a few questions from the ol’ vault to kick things off.
Thanks to all the contributors to this first installment of
“Ask Ryan”.
Question #1: “I have questions. Do you have answers?” from Hilda
Answer #1: Yes, Hilda. I do.
Question #2: “I seem to have lost my mind. Can you help me find it?”
from Brenda
Answer #2: No Brenda, I can’t. But a good first step would be cutting back on the shrooming and scat play just a little bit. We love you, and when we confront you in your intervention, at some undisclosed but surprising time, we will bring snacks.
Question #3: “I am retired and suffer from emphasema, lymphoma, and heart disease. My doctor is asking me to quit smoking before I undergo my trachectomy in August. My dear wife of 28 years Nadine died last year of cancer and I want to kick the smoking habit in memory of her. Ryan, please help.” from L.W., Athens GA
Answer #3: Smoking has come under fire (no pun intended!) of late by bleeding heart liberals who seek to tax it more and more to fund Welfare Queens who have twelve kids. A word to the wise, Mr. and Mrs. Democrat-I am smoker and I vote! It is true that cigarette smoke smells like dried diarrhea, and it is also true that dried diarrhea smells way better than farts. Why do you think so many people start smoking? To cover up the smell of their farts. Think about it: anyone who has ever sat all day at their desk working a temp job will tell you that holding in farts is painful and distracting. Once they find that they can go outside and release said pressure and use a cigarette to mask their atrocious odor there is no going back. After sex? Cigarettes to the rescue. At a party? All I can say is that as long as there are people eating dairy products, people will have gas. As long as people has gas, they will always choose to smell like dried diarrhea over farts. So, light ‘em if ya got ‘em. Thanks for the question!
Question #4: “Beatboxing seems really hard.” from 
Answer #4: I’m not sure there’s a question there, but I’m sure you feel that way about a lot of things.
Question #5: “What is the capital of Oregon?” from DarqueSyde
Answer #5: Eugene. Population 12,804. State Bird: Marsh Finch. Oregon is a state in the far northwest of the continental United States prone to gloating over not being Idaho. Famous residents include the woman who played Blanche on “The Golden Girls” before she graduated from High School and moved away. The house from “The Goonies” still is located in Oregon, but once it gets its act together will probably move to Cheyenne Wyoming where it has heard there are opportunities.
Question #6: “Are you my mommy?” from Billy
Answer #6: Smoking pot in Oregon is legal if you can think up a good story to tell your doctor. “I feel funny” works, as does “My tummy and/or eyes hurt”. It is also legal in Oregon to have your doctor kill you if you can think of a good story to tell your doctor. “I feel funny” works, as does “My tummy and/or eyes hurt”. They also will give you a prostate exam if you ask hard enough. It is illegal in Oregon to pump your gas at a gas station. You must have a gas station attendant run out to your car like its a NASCAR pitstop and then pump your gas. A doctor can also do this if you ask hard enough. Bestiality: legal. Pumping gas: way out of bounds. Smoking a doobie at your Pap test: Condoned by law. Pumping your gas: Please don’t even ask. Backhanding a senile invalid? Better be a doctor. Pumping unleaded gasoline into your Honda Civic? The police have been called and are on their way. Sasquatch have also been sighted in Oregon.
Question #7: “Do conjoined twins count as one or two in a census?”
from ‘Worried’ age 29
Answer #7: In Oregon, conjoined twins are revered as gods.
Question #8: “I am pregnant. How do I tell my parents?”
from Kaitlynn age 14
Answer #8: Easy. Go to a school dance, have baby in a toilet and then go dance the rest of the night away. Get caught by the cops and have your parents see you on the TV and figure it out for themselves.
Question #9: “How do I tell my conservative family that I am a Democrat?” from rittenword@yahoo.com
Answer #9: See answer number 8.
Email us here at Mindflowers, or just add as a comment to this page. Thanks again diligent readers!
Ryan McGivern
March 16, 2008
Will to Power
Posted by Abby under Nostalgia, Philosophy, Psychology, Self Improvement, SupermanNo Comments
“Why did we choose this insane task? Why have knowledge at all?”
- Friedrich Nietzsche
Didn’t you notice? Notice how people say exactly what they don’t mean when they are trying to say something - what they really mean, I mean. Just as shy is one letter away from sly, even if by chance, so is that something we try to communicate a slippery thing. Or a blind rigmarole of sorts: muffled laughs which sound like sneezes, anonymous scrapes by chair legs at dinner, and pants crossing legs. It is a knowledge, it is, it seemingly isn’t. But it is. So I heard. I once told this to my boyfriend - my old, old boyfriend. And that wasn’t exactly what I told him.He, this boyfriend, was everything I wasn’t attracted to. He had a criminal record and family issues, gangling limbs, profuse sweating, a habit. Lots of habits. I continued to date him anyway. He was everything I wasn’t, and never wanted to be. But, I’ll be damned if it wasn’t that self-same incongruity between us that started the whole thing in the first place. It was a conversation, a movement of lips.”I’ve seen prettier,” he said, putting his face near mine. Nose-to-nose, he wanted inside, no bones about that. Would I crack? With the grin of an evil innocent, I put my lips right on his and inhaled just as hard as I could. Actions and intentions were always tangled and a-blur.”But I can take your breath away.” He puzzled his body in congruency with mine. I grimaced and turned away. I had done it again. Despite myself, I was storing all of these resentments away. The niggled, like worms in sand tunneling underground. And how they turn the soil upside down.And breathing out, he whispered, “You did really good.” He rolled off the top of me. What is going on, I wondered, so petrified inside myself I could feel the sweat drying to my skin. Where are my clothes and my - I was bleary and drunk. What is this ache? And why am I burning up? Why does everything familiar look so different? This room in the attic, the sweaty socks and posters torn from walls. Where does this fire come from? Why is everything so hot? How does a flame ignite in something so empty on the inside? “I’m so glad you finally said yes.” He lifted my deadened hand and kissed it on all sides. There doesn’t have to be smoke for there to be a fire.
.
Needless to say, we didn’t date long, even though it looked like a million years worth of baggage when it was all over. From the inside, that is. Like looking at the systems of an ant farm, I suppose. They are amazing not because ants will make themselves at home whether under glass or under ash, but because we can marvel at a little piece of what we don’t normally see. For a person who tried to give as little as possible to the relationship, I seem to have acquired a lot. You can’t see any of it, but it’s a mountain.What do you do with the extra pieces of the puzzle? I always wondered that. You can’t throw them away. What if they belong to another you have yet to put together? So what did I do? Dropped them into a box, watched them pile and dune in the back of the closet. Collection was easy with him. I told him this.
.
I told him, “Did you ever notice that there’s always someone dominant and someone submissive in a relationship? Like there’s this competition, and it’s mean, ’cause there can only be one person always calling the shots.”
He may have been unattractive to me, but I would never say he was dumb.
.
“What are you, some kind of fucking feminist? You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
.
Clever. I felt - I knew, smilingly - that I had crossed a line. Needling people in the brain my version of an extreme sports hobby. I was working him while riding in his car, and he was already using only one hand to steer since he was smoking. We were going pretty fast. We always were. Little pair of cons. Like artists, how many do you know who blatantly blame audiences for the conflict the art portrays? Maybe a lot.
.
In any case, I was hooked. I only liked him because his mom was this super hippie and we could get free weed. That, and I knew he’d have sex with me. Not that I was interested in either. And not that something pestering and subterranean like that would have kept me from giving it the old summer-before-college try. Anyway. That’s what I said - to myself.
.
I was getting at something else and it had nothing to do with philosophy.
“That’s just sick,” he whispered.
Now I had to come up with something. This wasn’t going the way I wanted to. I thought for sure I had lured him into breaking up with himself. Taking the fall, claiming his blame. Pull the ol’ Wilma Flintsone. Or was it Fred?
Whoever we were, I felt that if it for each of our presences, we could have talked. Talked about how I hated him. How I hated me. How I got this creeping feeling that he knew it, and felt the same.
So we talked about our parents, and how we hated them. We had to. It’s like a sixth grader writing a report from the Encyclopedia Britannica. We referenced the only relationship we knew, really. Of course, we only ended up recounting our own relationships with those relationships.
That boyfriend and I never did get to talk about the real issue. I hope that he gave it some thought later.
I hadn’t until just now. Given it thought, I mean. Thought to reference and control. Thought to love, fullness, and being alone. I guess I’ve just been reading so many books of late. Reading them, deciphering what they mean, reading a set of critical articles, and backing myself up to say whatever it is that I don’t mean.
And that thing? It’s that I don’t know. I don’t know a damned thing. I mean it.
March 8, 2008
Pathways to Enlightenment: Breakfast
Posted by j.j. under Ethics, Food, History, Nostalgia, Parenting, Self Improvement[2] Comments
Back when I was a well-endowed six year old with few culinary sensibilities, my ideal breakfast was anything with a syrup slather — pine-nut waffles, three-day-old refrigerated McDonalds pancakes, banana splits, oatmeal with chopped bacon, orange juice from concentrate (with a shot of syrup!). And not that hipster-ass maple syrup bullshit, mind you; I wanted my morning meals oozing with two cups of thrice refined sugar per serving.
When I was twelve and on an efficiency and nutritional health kick, I discovered breakfast shakes. Milkshakes for breakfast!?! Sounds like a bit of harpsichord heaven to me. Of course, I had to balance out the milkshakes with a mouth stuffing of Big League Chew, the timeless Breakfast Food of Champions. It is the only gum you should swallow, you know?
I evolved into manhood at 26 when I moved to Seattle and discovered the regionally famous twelve egg omelet at the Hurricane Cafe. Because, as you all know, I am a large man — the size of two of you ducktaped together (I sometimes wear a car tire as a necklace) — and I can muscle up all the protein packed gelatinous aborted chicken babies you can slurp down my throat. The Hurricaine is marvelous in theory: open 24 hours, pinball galore, enough hash-browns to fill your bathtub. In practice, however, I’ve never been there.
But it wasn’t until yesterday that I arrived at true wisdom. I was on the treadmill at my gym and in life — there are LCD TVs attached to each of the machines. As per norm, I walked three miles per hour and watched the Food Network. I stared mesmerizingly at a woman on the TV screen named Paula as she designed and consumed The Lady’s Brunch Burger, an absolute zero Holy Grail archetype of perfection, serenity and the sublime: glazed doughnut bun, hamburger patty, fried eggs and sizzling bacon. Read the recipe here. Eat your heart out, baby! And I would love to hear from our esteemed Mindflowers readers about their personal paths to breakfast enlightenment.
January 10, 2008
Cleveland County Schools Are Learn-tastic!
Posted by Ryan McGivern under Blog, Magic, Places, Self Improvement, TravelNo Comments
Are you a student in grades Kindergarten through 12 looking for only the finest public education available? Then consider Cleveland County Schools in beautiful North Carolina.
Cleveland County makes other county schools look downright pathetic. Take Grover Elementary School as an example: We’re named after Super Grover, people. If that’s not a ‘10′ on the ‘cool school meter’, we don’t know what is.
Some county schools may say: “Come learn from us!” Not us. Here in Cleveland County, we say: “Let’s have a learn-tastic dance party!” We see our students as our equals. In some school districts, if a second grader was to walk into class and say: “I want to create world peace.” the school district would scoff in their cherubic face. Not Cleveland County Schools.
We’d begin a hunger strike until world peace was created.
We’ve got a lot of pride in our schools. Shelby High School is like Mount Olympus, filled with gods to be worshipped. Burns Middle School is like Ben and Jerry’s “Everything But The…” Ice Cream: more awesome than the best dream fantasy conjured by a magical unicorn princess.
That’s right. A magical unicorn princess. Top that, Gaston County!
With all the voices of public education vying for your allegiance, it can be hard to make the School District choice that’s right for you. So, let’s make this real easy. Here’s a list of some of the features Cleveland County Schools will bring you:
- We’ve got our eye on that bully.
- We can guarantee that our libraries will have at least one Harry Potter book available at all times.
- Diorama-mania!
- Cleveland County Schools, as of the last inspection, are completely poltergeist free.
- Crest High School football team. ‘Nuff said.
Wherever you do decide to receive your public school education, we wish you the best. Seriously. Good luck to you. Just don’t come crawling back to us when you won’t be accepted at Duke and end up at some dump like Emory.
Ryan McGivern
Me: www.myspace.com/mckibbon
Best School District Ever: http://www.clevelandcountyschools.org/
Best Ice Cream Ever: http://www.calorie-count.com/calories/item/52550.html
Unicorns (magical, princess, and other): http://www.unicornmuseum.org/
Crest Football Schedule: http://www.clevelandcountyschools.org/schools/chs/fbv.asp
Super Grover: http://youtube.com/watch?v=ieO8MGbZgU8
January 8, 2008
New Year’s Resolutions from your Verile Mindflowers Staff
Posted by Ryan McGivern and J.J. under How to, Self Improvement, TimeNo Comments
These are Resolutions that we at Mindflowers propose you make.
1. Stop Tying Up Your Barking Dog In Front Of The Store.
There seems to be a class of dog owner that thinks their dog is so awesome that everyone
would just love to hear it bark relentlessly on a city street. This happens all the time. In front of Ralph’s, in front of the T-Mobile store: some jerko has tied up their mangy mutt and it is barking like the entire city is it’s own. What are the owner’s thinking? Are they in the store hearing this and thinking: “My gift to the world today is making it sound like a junkyard is being robbed!”
2. Closing Your Mouth When You Eat.
Or chew gum. I know you can do it.
3. Refrain from saying “That’s How I Roll”.
My suggestion for ‘08 is replacing it with “This action is an example of my preferred and most common way of performing tasks.”
4. Not Acting Surprised When Religious or Political Bigots Get Caught Doing Exactly What They Rail Against.
5. Receive an Honorary degree from a private Christian college.
You’ll need to do something important like own a poor-performing professional baseball team.
6. Keep Your Eyebrows Believable
You know who you are. This year, if you’re gonna ink ‘em in-at least make it somewhat plausible.
7. Don’t Date My Friend Keith.
I’m tired of telling y’all “I told you so.” Listen: the guy is damaged goods. No offense, Keith, but geez, you’re a drunk and a slob. And you owe me and Ben a pizza. I also don’t think it’s any secret that you’re an inconsiderate lover.
8. If you are employed as a restaurant server and you have flu symptoms, do not go to work.
Unless you share a system of ethics with Mein Kampf.
9. At amateur night at your local stand-up comedy joint, throw vegetables at the comedians.
Because what is classier and healthier than pelting almost funny people with broccoli and arugula?
10. Please help me find my glasses.
When I don’t have them I can’t see. How the frickin’ hell am I supposed to find something when I need that something to allow me to look for it?
Ryan McGivern and J.J. Stein
January 6, 2008
People putting things in their mouth
Posted by j.j. under Activities, Photography, Self Improvement, ThingsNo Comments
November 30, 2007
How To: Talk to People
Posted by Ryan McGivern under Activities, Blog, How to, Self ImprovementNo Comments
I went to the Check Cashing Place this morning and I made the mistake of asking my attendant through the bullet proof glass how she was.
She clanked my money into the metal slot that’s big enough to clank money through but not big enough to fit a pistol through and said:
“Next.”
I guess that meant her day was “just fine, thank you.”
I have a hard time communicating with people, too, I’ll admit it. Whenever I’m trolling chatrooms, I’ll do something stupid like ask ArwenElf203948 if she wants to meet me at the Blockbuster by my house without first waiting the ‘requisite 10 minutes of IMing before asking to meet a stranger at Blockbuster’. There seems to be so many unwritten and written rules about how to talk to people!
When I am Ouiji boarding by myself in my incense drenched bedroom and I ask the spirit what color underwear it’s wearing, the marker always jumps over to the “Goodbye” in the corner. How am I to know all the finer details of necromancy if no one tells me?
If the waitress at Denny’s doesn’t have the proper etiquette and social tact to introduce herself formally and shake my hand, of course I’m going to call her “Sweet Tits”- but still I’m the one who gets looked down upon by the Denny’s management!
To give you yet another example of how hard it can be to have an adult conversation with someone, this is what happened to me last night at the Minx’s men’s bathroom:
Some Guy: Hey. What’s up?
Me: Hey! Not much how are you doing tonight? Don’t you just LOVE the DJ here?
He plays just the BEST music!
Some Guy: Yeah. Cool. You wanna party?
Me: Ohmygawd I love to party. I’ve been wanting to party all day.
Some Guy: Yeah? Let’s go into the stall and talk about it.
Me: Your shirt is just adorable! I love it.
Some Guy: Yeah. Well, I’ve got some other cool stuff to show you too.
Me: Show and tell? Aren’t you the brave little boy in front of the class!
Some Guy: Yeah. Uh, can you keep your voice down? I mean, the staff here
are really uptight about this kind of thing, so…..
Me: Where did you get your shirt? It is just adorable!
We went back and forth like this for like 20 minutes and I never did find out where he bought his shirt. I mean, what gives?
There is nothing I find more difficult than talking to girls. I know, many of you might have pegged me as a ‘Don Juan’ type but I am pretty much the opposite. I’m more John Cusack than John Cusack could ever be. I think that in the Guiness World Record for the most sexually frustrated animals it would be a tie between me, captive pandas, Trekkies, and the roadies for Ratt’s ‘Invasion of Your Privacy’ Tour.
Not that talking to people is all that important when you have a blog. Why bother talking to people when you can sit in a dark room on a Friday afternoon and blog about how difficult it is to talk to someone?
Ryan McGivern
Me: www.myspace.com/mckibbon
The Minx: www.minx-la.com
November 11, 2007
In improvisational theatre, everything that you will need to ever know will ultimately
boil down to ‘yes and’. Yes/And is shorthand for the most basic ‘rules’ of playing with others in improv, and as simplistic and pure as it is as a rule can make it seem easy to accomplish on stage. Not so. Its tough.
Yes/Anding your way to victory is tough because it asks of you to actively really listen to what is going on around you. It also asks that you let go of control, agenda, and everything else. Its like when Jesus said: “love people and stuff.” Easier said than done. Just ask any asshole Christian.
I want to talk about one way that Yes/And can be misunderstood. I often myself slip into this and I have seen it in other players as well. It gets translated into “Restatement”.
Restatement, even with a fun or unexpected twist is still missing the heart of Yes/And.
Example of Restatement: (let’s look at the first lines of a scene)
“God the workload around here is skyrocketing!”
“We’re being worked harder than Queen Latifah’s scale!”
Okay, so that is also an example of a ‘joke’ which shouldn’t be done either. But, it serves to show that simple restating as a form of Yes is weak. Think of ‘Yes’ as ‘just don’t negate that’. Its a reality and as such should be respected. Thinking as ‘just don’t deny or negate that’ also will encourage you to create lots of statements about the reality too.
And that brings us to the ‘And’. ‘And’ will give more information about you, the environment, your relationship, the other (as a ‘give’), etc.
Let’s go back to our example:
“God, the workload around here is skyrocketing!”
“(mimes grabbing a turkey, cutting off its head) Thanksgiving is always the busiest time of year, Steve.”
This accomplishes more in a short period of time. Now you’ve got a location, (turkey slaughter house), a name for your partner, and a time of year (audiences will appreciate if you have scenes about current real time issues).
It’s hard to accept a reality, not negate it, and then take it to another level by adding to the shared story. That is why I wholeheartedly suggest you nurture the 3 second rule: Take your time. Listen, and don’t respond so fast. In your mind, during these 3 seconds, think about Yes/And.
More on Improv to come…
Ryan McGivern
