Today marks a day in tricking history. Scott, aka Mr. Double ABCD, has landed the triple cork. Watch, and cry.

This is my work for another assignment in my short story writing class at UW. It was much more difficult than I had anticipated, but I received a rewarding mark for my work. Excellent. Hope you guys enjoy it!

The prompt:

For this assignment, you’ll write only nine sentences, but they may be the toughest nine you have ever written. That’s because you’ll be dealing with identical material in nine different ways. Here’s the material:

It is Monday morning at the office and everyone has arrived for the weekly staff meeting. Each is preoccupied by thoughts of his or her weekend, yet each wants to appear focused on matters at hand.

My work:

Assignment 4:

1st Person Factual:

I walked into the dimly lit conference room holding a disposable coffee mug, a plastic bound 3 ring binder, and two Bic ballpoint pens.

1st Person Deeply Emotionally Involved

The morning coffee was nearly as bitter as the faces sitting around the long, mahogany conference table; my remaining energy was quickly being sucked through my eyes into their empty, hung over attempts to smile.

1st Person Humorous:

I prayed to the Lord Almighty that Thomas, the pudgy man blinking in and out of sleep across the conference table from me, would dive face first into his uncapped slow-drip coffee and send a fiery tsunami into the lap of our monotonous CEO.

3rd Person Limited Factual:

J hid any trace of exhaustion beneath his perfect posture and $3,000 Armani suit as he confidently stepped into the conference room past fellow employees.

3rd Person Limited Deeply Emotionally Involved:

F practically crawled into the conference room, his face melting with exhaustion, wheeled himself up to the table with the heels of his muddy shoes, and lifted a small black mug to his clearly quivering lips.

3rd Person Limited Humorous:

Eager to appear agreeable, H nodded mindlessly the entire meeting, making perfect eye contact with the Spartan boss; his enthusiasm landed him two weeks of third floor bathroom duty.

3rd Person Omniscient Factual:

Each employee was suited in glistening Calvin Klein shoes, creaseless Ralph Loren slacks, tailored Nordstrom coats, and solid black Dolce and Golbana ties; it was the dress code created enforced by the CEO–he understood that a man who felt good looking would be more willing to work.

3rd Person Omniscient Deeply Emotionally Involved:

Everyone couldn’t help but notice Sharon as she reluctantly passed into the conference room; her normally beautiful face was black and blue, swollen around both eyes, and her once supple, red lips were a purple mess hanging lopsidedly off her crimson nostrils.

3rd Person Omniscient Humorous:

Everyone except Arvie walked into the office wearing professional business attire.

Here’s a sick tricking video my friend Larry made for his film class at the University of Washington.

I nearly cried when I saw this.

Truly epic lulz.

Hello friends, Dogentricks.com here.

The following is a short passage I wrote for my English 284 (short stories) class. The goal of this assignment was to create emotion using only perceptional illustrations of environment. I’m going to cheat a bit here, and include some music (Solitude By Ryuichi Sakamoto, Tony Takitani Soundtrack) that I think suits the writing. Hope you guys enjoy it.

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The boy made his way towards the faded steel ferris wheel that he imagined to be the center of the park. The ear piercing, rhythmic squeal of its grinding gears sent chills down his spine. It spun precariously on its axis as if might pop off anytime—rolling through the park and demolishing everything in its path like a freak hillbilly car show.

He squirmed through the crowd of misfits. A pair of monochrome clowns, black eyeliner streaking down their white faces, slowly clap oversized shoes through the thick mud. A cloud of spicy body odor follows their bent figures through the sea of bodies. To his left, a string of game booths. A noisy young couple, probably out without the permission of their parents, take turns throwing rusty lead darts against a tack wall of under-inflated balloons. The next booth is lined with wooden milk cartons and dirt stained, rubber softballs. The boy’s eyes climb the makeshift, rickety infrastructure of the tent. A group of lifeless, faded stuffed animals are lynched from the ceiling. The moist stink of their moldy fur betray any notion of their existence as ‘prizes.’ Their empty, unblinking eyes follow the boy’s figure, silently pushing him through the mob. 

He trips. His hands dive into the thick, warm mud, fixing themselves like a construction worker fallen into a mass of drying cement. The boy’s breaths become quick and shallow. He is covered in the shadows of strangers and pummeled by a barrage of faceless laughter. He rounds his sweat covered back, drives his heels into the ground, and pulls. Standing, the boy quickly wipes the brown mess against the coarse, dry denim of his jeans. A quick gust dashes through the carnival, snatching whiffs from every vendor. The boy is wrapped in the reek of watered down ketchup, over used honey buckets, and damp trash.

He continues to trek towards the spinning, metal giant. A patchy old horse to his right releases a reluctant cry. The boy, lightheaded and out of breath, locks eyes with the poor creature—a once muscle bound stallion, now confined to a twenty five square meter box of harassment. For a moment, their countenances reflect each other. The boy drops his eyes back to the ticket littered ground, drives his index fingers into his ears, and continues walking.

Hey friends, Dogentricks.com here.

Due to the recent influx of ridiculously serious blogs, today’s entry will be on the casual side.

Thanks to everyone that’s been leaving comments. I especially appreciate the countless number touching replies on the ‘Chapter 1′ blog. The support means more than you guys can possibly imagine.

LOLZ Well here’s the great, big news: I was accepted to the JET Program!

Brief summary: The Jet Program is a highly prestigious English teaching program in Japan. Unlike most conversation schools, the JET Program is not run through a private company, but by the Japanese government itself. Therefore, I won’t be working in an English school that people pay to visit; I’ll be working in actual junior high and high schools. Dogentricks.com/teacher.htmlということになります。It’s one huge step closer to my dream of becoming a teacher and writer.

Excellent. I’ll be back in Tokyo on July 27th. After a couple days of orientation, it’s off to wherever the Japanese government wants me, in this case, most likely Oita-ken. For those of you who don’t know where Oita is, which is probably all of you, because I didn’t know anything about it until this year, it’s pretty close to Fukuoka in western Japan (Kyuushuu). Oita was my number one pick because it is the home of fantastic ramen, hot springs, and my great buddy Yu Kamikawa. If Oita is already occupied, i’ll probably end up in either Hokkaido or Yokohama, which were my second and third choices, respectively. This time, I’ll be gone for much, much longer than a year.

Yes, I will be tricking again one day. However, due to injuries, most notably serious lower back pain, I’m taking a very long, much needed break. I will continue to train flexibility and strength, but no high impact activities for now. I’m shifting my focus from tricking to writing and work. In becoming a teacher, I will be in a critical position to touch people’s lives; I want to take full advantage of the opportunity. Rest assured, tricking will never be far from my heart or mind.

Train hard.