Years ago I used to bother celebrities on Twitter and write about the interactions.
I called it CelebTweets. After a few posts went live a television producer contacted me with an idea. If I wrote fifty more of these she could pitch it to publishers and get a book made.
It started with the stamps.
Last Friday, like a good and dedicated employee, I went into work. There were some appointments I had set up for the early part of the day. On the way home I popped into a Dominick’s grocery store to pick up a few items needed for the weekend. I remembered that all my holiday cards had arrived after Christmas and I was to send them out that weekend.
I told my girlfriend a lie last night.
To be fair, this was unintentional. Had I known the actual truth (as I do now) I may have very well snapped the remaining thread of sanity holding me upright or thrown myself from a balcony screaming.
On my way home from work yesterday I put together some thoughts for a video blog. I wrote down eleven points I wanted to discuss including an upcoming trip, a holiday card I’m sending to readers, and a story about not picking up my dog’s poop (which I still don’t do even though I promised you I would).
I’m thirty-six and I never learned how to date.
Back in high school when first dates were innocent and slow I assumed I was too ugly to attract a woman. (insert reader sob here. Wait… Did you actually sob? If not, go back and re-read. I want sobbing, dammit!) I did go on one date, but that was it. Other than a random kissing session, that was all I had.
A friend recently pleaded with me to change my photo here on the site.
He said it didn’t look like me and didn’t capture my silliness. Plus, he said it made me look like a bad man. He then went into detail about what kind of criminal I resembled. Without going into specifics let’s just say it wasn’t flattering.
My grandfather died when I was in high school and we inherited his Cadillac.
I already had a car at the time, a Merkur XR4Ti. Even though it was a hand-me-down with 200k miles, it was still pretty cool. Leather seats, sunroof, turbo injection. And stick shift. Every kid’s first car should be stick shift.
One of the most difficult transitions I’ve made since the divorce is the realization that I had been using my wife as a notepad for the past five years.
When I hit junior high, I knew I had a to-do list problem. I simply didn’t keep one. That’s the age where I needed to start writing things down and planning appropriately. As a verified ADDer my memory sucks. I don’t mean in the same way everyone thinks their memory sucks. I’ve had a least a dozen people tell me my memory is the worst they’ve experienced. I wish I could over-exaggerate this fact, but it would not be easy.
This morning I received an interview request from the Chicago Tribune.
Since I’m always in search of external validation I was excited that someone felt it was important to talk with me. About me.
If you’re not familiar with Chicago, the Tribune is our flagship newspaper and one of the ten biggest in the country. The have real reporters and probably an ombudsman. They’re the real deal. I announced at work that they sent me a message to interview me. Just the other day an obscene t-shirt manufacturer reached out to me asking to help promote their clothing line. They said to pick any t-shirt I wanted for free. I also had practically yelled this at work. Nobody was impressed.
I had totally forgotten I am a thief.
Notice the two conflicting tenses there! Will I resolve the grammar? It’s a nailbiter!
This morning I was listening to a podcast with the host discussing online piracy. He ended up saying that it’s stealing, plain and simple. Which, of course, is true. And then it occurred to me. I do this. Then I felt sick.
I'll never give this child another cigarette, pinky swears!
