A Day In The Write: A Collection Of One Man's Social Media Posts From 2009-2020

By George Hilway

FROM THE INTRODUCTION TO MY MANUSCRIPT:

Introduction


I suppose I always thought I would write a book someday. But like a real book – one with chapters, and these chapters would have titles. There would also be an index, maybe a dedication page, all that kinda real book stuff. But writing an entire non-fiction book, upward of 200 pages, is a lot of work and a lot of research, and let's face it, I'm kinda lazy.
I still did want to scribe a book, though. Put all the stuff in my head, pen to paper, have people read it. Then I got the idea. What if I already wrote my book and just didn't realize it? I thought of all the social media posts I wrote during the past decade. I could just gather them, and presto, a book. That would be easy, right? No developmental editing or indexing required, and the chapter titles could be different years. I know that my status updates, blogs, satirical writings, and general commentary — mostly on politics, the media, the world of entertainment, current events, and life in general — are brilliant. I mean, how could all those likes from my college fraternity buddies and septuagenarian aunts be wrong? Could I be onto something? I wondered.
Then, I got a fortune cookie that said, "You have a way with words. You should write a book." And whether it was the MSG or my silly, stupid ego, I believed it. This clinches it, I thought. I spent the next few months pouring over 12 years of online creativity to weed out the very best for this book and, of course, your enjoyment.
What follows is that compilation, from 2009 through 2020, complete with dates and, where appropriate, the referenced topics. My writing style mostly employs humor, sarcasm, or satire but can also be straightforward and earnest depending on the event and my mood that day. Some topics are too grave not to evoke a slightly disgruntled response. After all, we do live in crazy times.

WARNING: I'M A POLITICAL CONSERVATIVE.

This will be made abundantly clear to you in the first few posts. I know about 30 percent of you just dropped the book in horror, disgust and doused yourself in even more hand sanitizer. And that's OK. As Popeye said, "I yam what I yam."

Still here? Good.

If you're offended by anything written in this book, "Sorry, not sorry." And if you're not offended by anything written in this book, then "What the hell is wrong with you?"

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Apr 29, 2022
• ISBN: 9781667835792

Book preview

cover.jpg

A Day in The Write

©2022 George Hilway

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

Print ISBN: 978-1-66783-578-5

eBook ISBN: 978-1-66783-579-2

Contents

Introduction

2009

2010

2011

2012

2013

2014

2015

2016

2017

2018

2019

2020

Introduction

I suppose I always thought I would write a book someday. But like a real book – one with chapters, and these chapters would have titles. There would also be an index, maybe a dedication page, all that kinda real book stuff. But writing an entire non-fiction book, upward of 200 pages, is a lot of work and a lot of research, and let’s face it, I’m kinda lazy.

I still did want to scribe a book, though. Put all the stuff in my head, pen to paper, have people read it. Then I got the idea. What if I already wrote my book and just didn’t realize it? I thought of all the social media posts I wrote during the past decade. I could just gather them, and presto, a book. That would be easy, right? No developmental editing or indexing required, and the chapter titles could be different years. I know that my status updates, blogs, satirical writings, and general commentary — mostly on politics, the media, the world of entertainment, current events, and life in general — are brilliant. I mean, how could all those likes from my college fraternity buddies and septuagenarian aunts be wrong? Could I be onto something? I wondered.

Then, I got a fortune cookie that said, You have a way with words. You should write a book. And whether it was the MSG or my silly, stupid ego, I believed it. This clinches it, I thought. I spent the next few months pouring over 12 years of online creativity to weed out the very best for this book and, of course, your enjoyment.

What follows is that compilation, from 2009 through 2020, complete with dates and, where appropriate, the referenced topics. My writing style mostly employs humor, sarcasm, or satire but can also be straightforward and earnest depending on the event and my mood that day. Some topics are too grave not to evoke a slightly disgruntled response. After all, we do live in crazy times.

WARNING: I’M A POLITICAL CONSERVATIVE.

This will be made abundantly clear to you in the first few posts. I know about 30 percent of you just dropped the book in horror, disgust and doused yourself in even more hand sanitizer. And that’s OK. As Popeye said, I yam what I yam.

Still here? Good.

If you’re offended by anything written in this book, Sorry, not sorry. And if you’re not offended by anything written in this book, then What the hell is wrong with you?

2009

February 3, 2009 (On Dem’s Tax Troubles)

I’m having my Class-C itemized deductions checked by the firm of Geithner, Daschle, and Killefer.

February 6, 2009

Kill the Spending Bill, Volume 1

Well, folks, I just wrapped up a stint as a PA on season one of The Real Housewives of Wausau, so I’m a little cranky and bored. Albeit I was better treated than my last gig as the lighting dude for that Christian Bale flick. Marry that with the fact that I was hopped-up on Acme diet green tea, and I decided to copiously go over the proposed spending, I mean stimulus bill. It’s with great sadness that I report that I have not been this ill since I watched the Danny DeVito and Rhea Perlman sex tape, which coincidentally contained just as much pork.

First off, some $400 million is going toward STD prevention and education. For God’s sake, can’t someone just grab Samantha Ronson’s underwear? Not to mention money for fresh sod for the National Mall, apparently due to huge divots left by a grazing Aretha Franklin during the Inauguration. Best of all, they need $850 million for Amtrak. Folks, I rode Amtrak once, once. I screamed the whole way like a four-year-old girl being babysat by Randy Quaid. Then there’s the $6 billion they need to turn federal buildings green.

Sit down, Michael Phelps. That’s not what we mean here.

If the true intent of this proposed bill is to stimulate growth and create jobs, both of which are sorely needed now, then it fails miserably. On paper, the bill amounts to roughly $1.2 trillion, including interest, the most significant transfer of wealth to the US government since Tim Geithner paid back his taxes. Americans are hurting now. We need more tax cuts in the bill, less wasteful spending, and a new wardrobe for Michelle Obama. I hope she wasn’t proud of her country when she picked out that green number. Disguising this bill as a stimulus package, instead of pork barrel spending wrapped around European-style Socialism, doesn’t fool me, and it shouldn’t fool you either. President Barack BO Obama needs to take a page from Ronald Reagan’s playbook.

Gotta go now. I have to text 1 on my Verizon mobile to have Kathy Griffin blown up by an IED on Waterboarding with the Stars.

February 13, 2009

I Met My Idol, Dane Cook

People who know me know two things: (1) If I’m ever found unresponsive, they should immediately phone Mary-Kate Olsen, and (2) I love Dane Cook.

So, you can imagine my delight when I met Dane Cookster Cook, after his show in New Jersey last Super Bowl Sunday. Cook-a-lisimo could not have been any nicer.

Despite being tired from having just finished his set — two hours of ninja kicks and no punchlines will do that, Cookster was trenchantly taking notes from Louis C.K.’s book, My Set Lists from the 1990s. Not sure what that was all about. Anyhoo I was fueled by a cosmic combination of Pimp C’s syrup and Rascal Comedy Club’s fiery Paul Rodriguez wings, so I approached the talent-drained comic.

Hi, Mr. Cook. Great set. Can I buy you a drink? I asked.

I don’t drink. It makes me funny and ruins the integrity of my work, the star of Waiting and Employee of The Month replied.

I choked back a chuckle. Man, is this guy never not on?

Just then, I am Legend’s cell phone rang. He turned away to take the call, but I could still make out demands of back-end points for Good Luck Chuck Part Two and inquiries about Jimmy Fallon’s hairstylist. Oops, did I just spoil some page six Hollywood gossip? I wondered. Take it as a tip from your little ET insider. When Cookarama hung up, Mr. Jay Davis approached him and dutifully proclaimed that he had picked out all the brown M&M’s.

Could it be? I thought. Am I in the presence of one-half of Tourgasm? These guys are like the Fab Four of stand-up. Only, unlike the Beatles, these lads have talent. Put that in your pipe and smoke it, Mr. Brian Epstein.

Apparently, Cookarama now does prop comedy. I damn near soiled myself laughing when a strategically placed audience member approached him, broke a Heineken bottle over his head, and screamed, I want a friggin’ refund!

Does this guy ever stop working? I haven’t seen someone go to this great depth of physical comedy for a laugh since Fatty Arbuckle murdered that whore in Cali.

Blood streamed down Cookarama’s head. I suppose he had some blood packets left over from Mr. Brooks. It got all over his retro tight t-shirt with little stars and his ripped gray designer jeans. Hey, did he steal that outfit from Bill Maher’s wardrobe set from his HBO special, The Decider? Or did Maher borrow it from the Cook-man himself? Hmmm, which came first, the chicken or the egg? By now, Jay Davis had smeared Cook’s blood all over his clothes à la Rev. Jesse Jackson in Memphis on April 4, 1968. He tried to lead Cookie-Monster (his nickname for Dane) away when a waitress came out of nowhere and kicked Cookarama in the balls. Can you say, workaholic? I thought. This guy is the consummate professional. Apparently, a 10-cent tip on two Pellegrino’s and a Zima isn’t a lot of money in Montclair, NJ. I suppose the Liberal media is correct; physical violence is more prevalent on Super Bowl Sunday than any other day of the year.

Cookster stumbled on the Tourgasm bus, which Dr. Gulman and Dr. Kelly had hastily transformed into a makeshift mobile hospital.

Oh, what a vicious circle we’ve gotten ourselves into. He yelled in a dazed state before passing out in their arms.

They sped away for their next stop in comedy heaven, and I couldn’t help but wonder if I would ever again witness such talent. I looked up and caught the opening scene of an According to Jim rerun on the bar’s corner T. V. Things are looking up. Only in New Jersey, kids, only in New Jersey!

February 22, 2009

Oscar Picks

Not sure if this year’s Oscar Awards Ceremony will receive the same Nielsen audience as in the past. For one thing, Jack Nicholson will not be attending. Apparently, Larry David’s line that only blind people and assholes wear sunglasses indoors finally got to him. Hugh Jackman is the host, and word is the presenters kept confidential until now are a family of chimps. On that note, I’m going to miss Travis terribly. This week’s outburst was his worst since he complained about Morgan Fairchild’s acting while filming those Old Navy ads in the late ‘90s.

Also, it appears the recession is hitting Tinseltown. Rumor has it those once swanky, swab grab bags for presenters valued at over $70,000 are down to a few dollar-store coupons and an Abreva pump spray. Despite this, I felt it was a pretty good year for cinema. So good that it compelled me to see a few of the nominations.

With movies, where you see them is almost as important as what you see. The surroundings, city, and audience demographic all play a big part in augmenting your enjoyment of the flick. I first discovered this magic of movie milieu at a midnight double feature screening of Pooty Tang and Juwanna Man at the Magic Johnson Theaters in Inglewood. So, without further ado, here we go.

Frost/Nixon

I saw this Ron Howard vehicle with my good buddy, Ohio Rep. Dennis Kucinich, at an independent theater in Berkley. Although I think Hollywood took some liberties with the script. Did Nixon really have horns and a tail? Did the 37th President swallow a makeup artist because he couldn’t reduce his on-camera five o’clock shadow? Despite extensive Wikipedia research, I could not substantiate this incident.

The progressive northern Cali audience, though, ate it up. And they came dressed up just like those acned virgin nerds do for a Star Wars flick. Only this time, they had pitchforks, torches, nooses, and signs that read, honk for impeachment and beheading. Halfway through the movie, I nudged Denny and asked if he liked it or not. He mumbled something about having to close Gitmo sooner than BO ordered and went back to his vegan hot dog. Man, that guy has a one-track mind.

Overall, I give Frost/Nixon an A. The acting was superb. Frank Langella gave