Denzel Washington: Your New Favorite Meme

While many are struggling with forced hangovers, the regret of paying $100 on a less than fantastic fight, the internet in all it’s terrific instant humor glory is basking the in the glow of what can only be described as Summer’s hot new meme:

I swear to god he’s a long lost uncle of mine.

During the pre-fight festivities, the cameras captured celebrities as they poured into the MGM Grand last night waiting for the ‘fight of the century’. After paying a shit-ton of money to watch two dudes dance around a ring for 12 rounds, you’d think you’d get something a little more noteworthy than the man King Kong ain’t got shit on.

The glitz.

The glamour.

The awkward shot of Denzel Washington.

Immediately, Twitter’s elite jumped onto the sight of the veteran actor, looking like the uncle you only see during family gatherings and showing signs of age. The Oscar winner, clad in a classic Adidas track jacket and all black New York Yankees’ fitted, seemed to be in good spirits but the Twitterati, already foaming with rage over the fight’s delayed start time, took to the keyboards and cracked joke after joke, meme after meme making the whole reason we were all watching the fight on Periscope, seem stupid in comparison.

Here are some of the highlights:

I even tried it

Denzel’s appearance wasn’t the most shocking thing to happen at last night’s fight. There was this:

yes that happened. yes, someone paid money for that to happen. In what could only be described as a marketing stroke of genius (or someone having a stroke in the middle of an important budget meeting and everyone miscontruing the entire thing) the Burger King himself walked with Money Mayweather. Not to be outdone, Manny was escorted out by comedian Jimmy Kimmel who’s been enjoying a bromance with the fighter after learning the words to the entrance song Pac wrote and performed.

It was like someone opened up a box labeled TUMBLR, let it out into the world and waited to see the madness that would follow. Every second seemed like a truly bizarre collection of meme ready fodder orchestrated by some of the richest people in the world. It was like the half time show had become the main event. Imagine Left Shark just completely dominating the second half of the Super Bowl and an alternate world where the Pats lost and Katy Perry was just some broad in the middle of the whole thing.

Our culture is so weird when it comes to major moments; we want them to mean something when we bear witness to them but we’re also prepared for the complete and total letdown that is inevitable. Maybe we’re cynical and just know that we shouldn’t come into things expecting the greatest of outcomes but every so often, things like Left Shark and Uncle Denzel happen and we all gravitate towards it because we all agree in the absurdity of the things we build up as events and milestones. We anticipate the best of the best as a community and thanks to social media, we all pick at the things we watch together and see who makes the joke stick.

No one knows where a third of the memes come from; we never know when a joke lands and goes viral but let’s be honest, no one went into this thinking that there was going to be anything remotely resembling an actual fight. We didn’t however count on one of Hollywood’s biggest actors stealing the show.

I Wanna Get Better


full disclosure.

I’ve been struggling with unemployment for the past few months.

At first, it started out as a massive kick to the face. Dear God, here I am, 29 (at the time) earning my way through the complex digital world, meeting people, networking, not truly understanding the power I wield but I’m paying my bills on time and contributing the the toxic sludge that is the internet.

so paid

so paid

After a few days, it turned into a mini vacation. I was still meeting people for chats, consulting on best practices, sleeping in a bit, hanging out with people. It was like seeing the world for the first time in awhile. Obligations were gone for a moment.

but forever

After about a month, it became a debilitating, soul crushing experience. Waking up early to stare off at the job listings screen, wondering why anyone wasn’t returning my calls or emails then forcing myself to eat breakfast then go to the gym to clear my head.


After two months, my birthday.

I’m now 30 years old.

I can’t celebrate anything really. I have a party of sorts. I get a little drunk but it’s that kind of drunk where you want your feelings to drown so you can float to the surface, embracing clarity and say you’ll never do that again knowing damn well you’re going to do it.

It all feels like a surreal nightmare where I’ve been dropped into a Fincher movie; all muted hyper colors and textures and there’s an alternate version of me walking around, successfully. Okay so I may have described the plot to Fight Club but it’s the same idea really. There is another version of me, improving, living, thriving.

I am Jack’s complete disillusionment


I figure, while I’m booking random gigs, for which I am grateful, I would just try to live a little bit. I try going out early in the day, New York in the summer is my favorite type but I find myself getting up early to go to the gym, be upset, get rejection letters, going home, showering and sitting in my bedroom, AC barely on watching Netflix.

You do a lot of soul searching and personal assessing when something like this happens. As it happens, I’ve been coping with a separation, so it was basically a mega shitshow hurricando mega force suckfest. You start picking things apart, putting the pieces into boxes to really get a big picture and see what happened. I didn’t lose my job due to performance, just the economics of the business. Like a survivor on Lost or Gilligan’s Island, I pick through the debris and see what I can salvage. Turns out I’m more a Gilligan than a Professor. Mercifully, the relationship is still sort of salvageable, but that’s a whole other entry. OR several. Stiff upper lip, I work through it.

I go to a lot of bar events.

I don’t tan.

I’ve dyed my hair at least four times already.

By August I book a gig working the U. S. Open (I dye my hair an acceptable color) The job feels like summer camp really.

When I close out this job, I make the note to spend more time in a gym because there is nothing on Serena Williams’ body that jiggles. THE BOOTY REAL.

actually watched this match. it was intense









I make money, meet people, pass around my business card and discuss business opportunities but the entire time, I find that I’m struggling with just what is that I am offering? What is that I do?

I continue checking my email, sending my resume out, collecting rejection letters, random messages for gigs and the occasional offer to enlarge my penis. As if my problems aren’t enough, my phantom dick is small. fuck my life.

I go to New York Comic Con.


where I sat in the same room as Edward Norton and Michael Keaton

I work a Thanksgiving Day commercial for one day, setting up office in a home gym in a house with a price tag that makes me weep.

I work a lot of odd jobs.

I work.

What am I doing?!

I’ve become a drone, mindlessly filling out job application after application, hoping to at least land a gig that caters to my skill set. I apply for retail jobs, knowing full well they are the very textbook definition of temporary and I fear repeating the vicious cycle that the last six years have been. (As me about it some time, I’ll tell you all about it. Preferably over drinks.)  I wind up doing more writing and land a few pieces on Vh-1 which fuels me to find my niche and again I’m dumbfounded.

I’ve never done a career assessment. Ever.

In college, I was always in the career office looking at job postings, figuring I can do that, that sounds easy enough. I never sat with anyone to discuss my skills and interests. I never figured out what it was thatI could do and then was completely baffled as to why I had been passed for the position. I still never went to see anyone about it, figuring it was because I hadn’t had a proper resume to begin with. How many times as a college student were you passed on a job because you didn’t have a job before? (I’ve been working since the age of fourteen)

After that, I just dove head first into everything that I could, figuring something would stick in my wheelhouse. I worked in A&R, I worked as a camera operator, post production assistant, I was a copywriter, I was a delivery girl (woman!), I ran social media for various entities. I did it all, I did too much, I wanted to do more. I’d bitched about everything going on, as is the right of all working people in a capitalist society doing what they can to survive.

I have a resume with various skills but none of that experience tallied into a single marketable skill; there is no singular thing that I can define as my ability. (Swearing doesn’t count, sadly) I have a fairly succinct resume, divided between all my media work and then my production work into two fairly respectable entities, never mind the jobs in between all of that. Looking at them side by side, I feel like I’ve been a million different people from one day to the next and none of us can agree on just who we are professionally; we just want to collect the credit, the experience, file it and see where it takes us. (forget the hot mess that I am on a personal level.)

Just what the fuck is it that I do?

Like I said. I’ve never done a career assessment. I’ve had professional friends work with me on molding and shaping who I am, or at least guiding me in the direction to which is best suited to my abilities. We all agreed that I am a Swiss Army Knife. Adaptable to situations, capable, smart, stylish. Pocket sized.

I should pick a better selfie

I tried to do it myself.

What I’ve figured out so far is that I write a lot, (ramble coherently mostly), enjoy comic books, movies, I have pretty gay tendencies, I like animals, movies, off-color humor, drinking and swearing.

Basically I’m a Puerto Rican Judd Apatow character.

(if he was y’know a little more diverse in his writing)

I struggle with anxiety and I learned that when I speak to people, I have to memorize a script so that I can avoid mumbling something incoherent. (Fun fact! I was a theater kid for most of my life but my decision to get tattoos and dye my hair often tanked it.) I started getting more in depth with researching things, reading deeper into some articles. I wrote down ideas and tried testing them out on this blog. I tried dressing better too; apparently t-shirt and jeans is not standard grown lady apparel. I did not receive that notice. Studies indicate that doing little things to improve one’s appearance can increase their confidence and outwardly influence people they meet and thusly line your pockets with money. (vicious cycle)

Now armed with this newfound knowledge, I send out my resume, cover letter and articles to various publications in the hope that one of these strange traits will land me something somewhat resembling an opportunity but I still feel fake. I work and tweak the details, polish myself up, sell sell sell. I curb my social media habits, especially if I’m using them to market myself. I can’t have my moody music posts deterring people from considering me. (we’ve all posted Coldplay songs, shut up) Even with all of this, I feel off.

There’s a nagging feeling at the back of my head. Something I keep missing and I know it.

I’ve always wanted to be a writer.

I didn’t list that as something I’m fully capable of doing.

me editing this mess

When I was employed full time, all I did was write on the side, the phantom ideas taking up my headspace while working on sheets, deadlines and deliveries. When I lost my job, I broke out all my notebooks, pouring over them, pulling them apart for deeper ideas and I started working on them. It felt much like looking through a yearbook when you’ve completely failed at everything. You want to find the place it went wrong and pick up from there, with fresh arms and legs to carry it.  I broke out a fresh notebook, Post It’s tucked into margins with plot points I had to remember and things I need to remember with world building. I started working on them all the time, hoping that maybe all the experience I’d collected would just pour out in the next great American novel because so far, my luck has been terrible. What’s the worst that could happen, really?

The one thing that’s kept me sane has been writing. My reading has declined substantially despite my growing book hoarding habits (thanks Strand!)  and article perusing while job hunting but my writing, my writing has continued. My last article for Vh-1, the controversial Mariah Carey’s All I Want For Christmas Is You May Be Christmas’ Greatest Song. Ever, landed me my first blockbuster article share (including a RT from Mariah’s team) and first brush with “U R A RETARD GO FUK URSELF MARIAH SUX” hate mail in the comments section. I’ve placed six with them and am trying to work on a full time reccurring segment of sorts but haven’t found the right hook as of yet. Truthfully, I haven’t been able to match that just yet; it’s the Thriller article of my young writing career. I’m working on Bad but fear that all anyone will ever want is Thriller. The fact is, I’m writing, so, that’s a good thing.


Let’s recap.

I lost my job.

I worked a lot of other jobs.

I’m still looking for a job.

I will talk about work with you. Over drinks. Or not. Whatever.

Here’s what I do:

  1. I write
  2. I direct
  3. I produce
  4. I create
  5. I take pictures of random animals that I find in the street and fight the urge to bring them home with me because I’m unemployed and can’t afford that kind of lifestyle right now.
  6. I offer tech support in emerging technologies
  7. I tell dick joks
  8. I can manage YouTube, Tumblr, Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Vine accounts. With some bilingual flair.
  9. I am a strange brand indeed but you won’t be bored.
  10. I’m the invisiblecircus

Let’s see where it goes because I want to be a better me.

Ten Years, Ten Songs Part 1

Ten Years Later, These Pop Songs Still Get Us


Believe it or not, some of your favorite songs are turning ten years old this year. Take a minute to appreciate that. Celebrate these ten favorites by taking a trip down memory lane and showing off at your next Throwback Thursday karaoke party.


Rihanna- Pon De Replay

It’s hard to believe we’ve been jamming to Rihanna for ten years. What’s also hard? Them abs.


Snoop Dogg ft Pharrell Williams – Drop it Like It’s Hot

Admit it, you still try to emulate Pharrell’s tongue click and hum this when using a microwave.


Gwen Stefani – Hollaback Girl

Uh huh, holy s**t this song is ten years old. You still remember how to spell banana thanks to this song.


Ciara ft Missy Elliott- 1,2 Step

This…track…is… ten years old are you feeling old yet? Still can’t skate dance either. Ciara’s hips are hypnotizing.


Fall Out Boy – Dance, Dance

The kings of guyliner, pop punk playfulness and those sweet sweet dance moves. Still don’t know what they’re saying after all these years.


Mariah Carey – We Belong Together

Possibly one of Mariah’s most quotable love songs just behind “Always Be My Baby”, like MC herself has aged well.


Rob Thomas – Lonely No More

The song that always seem to be on lite radio’s perpetual loop whenever you go to the doctor’s office, drug store or a ride with your aunt in her 05 Camry.


Game ft 50 Cent – Hate It or Love It

Bringing New York and Los Angeles rap together, however briefly, over a classic Marvin Gaye melody, this song still manages to make you bop.

Kanye West ft Jamie Foxx – Gold Digger

Eighteen years, eighteen years…


The Black Eyed Peas – My Humps

Few songs have boggled the mind of music fans more than what exactly humps the BEPs were referring to, 10 years later scholars and scientists alike agree, nobody knows.


I’m @invisiblecircus on the Twitters. Let’s talk about the good ol days and telling kids to get off our digital lawns.

Carmilla: The Best Web Series You’re Not Watching

True Blood, Twilight, The Originals, The Vampire Diaries broody vampires, tired of being vampires get a second chance at love and life because they met someone who touches their humanity.

Mopey vampires were getting stale.

Then, there was the web series reimagining of the classic novella Carmilla.

Sure, she’s a mopey eternally gorgeous forever twenty something stuck in a college that seems to be the new home of weird shit since Sunnydale sank into the Hellmouth BUT the series is a little more than just another run of the mill vampire show. Each installment is an entry on Tiny Laura’s web blog where she documents her investigation into the mysterious disappearance of her roommate Betty and two other floor mates in Silas University. When the mysteriously hot and monosyllabic Carmilla moves into the dorm, Laura immediately goes into detective mode, suspicious of her new roomie’s habits, especially when it comes to stealing her favorite pillow. Clocking in at an average 3-6 minutes per episode (they launch new episodes every Tuesday and Thursday) the series introduces the characters from the novella as 21st Century women filled with snark and impeccable knowledge of Doctor Who (seriously, Tiny Laura’s favorite soda is Bad Wolf and she needs to drink everything from her beloved Tardis mug).

There are teams just like in the aforementioned series, Team Danny (Tall Ginger, alpha female leader of the presumably awesome Summer Society) Team Carmilla (who can say no to sultry eyes and broody face vampires) are obviously the most popular while the clearly married until they die couple of LaFerry captains itself. What’s most interesting about the character interaction is, despite the presence of males on campus, nearly all of the exploits are lead entirely outside of the need for guys; the Dimwit Squad (Danny, LaFontaine and Perry all ginger, all hilarious) manage to solve most of the mystery and handle the action themselves, despite the adorable pet name that Carmilla’s given them.

VerveGirlTV, the YouTube channel currently posting the series, has done a fantastic job of utilizing the cult of Carmilla to their advantage, executing consistent uploads of episodes, ancillary content, audience engagement and the recent integration of branding with, of all things, U by Kotex. Yes. A women’s brand dealing with a lady’s monthly is the brand partner with a show about women and a vampire. The production and creative teams easily and with hilariously awkward results, created extra content with the cast blatantly displaying their new partnership but in a way that still feels very much like the world the series has built.

Even more telling is how openly the cast and crew ship (support a relationship) the same sex partnerships that have sprung up on the show. Tiny Laura is at the center of a very tall triangle between Tall Gay Danny and Useless Lesbian Carmilla and all of it supported, courted and encouraged by the creative staff. Few shows have actively accepted and made canon a same sex couple straight out of the gate, many of them enjoy the slow burn and build up or even queerbait a coupling for ratings. The new media plan and it’s for us by us for all mentality has created a niche for strong LGBTQ storytelling online; Carmilla The Series is a big step in the direction of continued growth and success on a platform that doesn’t have to fit in the same box that traditional TV seems to obsessed with fitting into. It also doesn’t help that the entire cast is extremely appealing to look at.

Check out the playlist below:

squeal with me on Twitter @invisiblecircus or find me on tumblr invisiblecircus