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.
I was called a narcissist a few days ago by a reader.
I recently crossed over the five thousand mark in comments on they blog. I would say 99% are positive/funny responses to posts I’ve written. Once in awhile I invoke someone’s ire.
This particular reader yelled at me in a private email writing that I am a crazed narcissist and with all the hurt I cause my girlfriend I need to remember that I’m the lucky one to have her in my life. One of my comedy heroes, Marc Maron, has a response to a women whenever one starts passing judgement from the audience and interrupting his set. He’s a fantastic comic and talks openly about all his challenges. I try to do the same thing here. Anyway, his response is to look at the woman with compassion and then say, “I’m really sorry for what he did to you.” It’s one of the greatest power-move dismissals ever.
Nope. It doesn’t.
Freshman year of high school I was in speech class working on a monologue about pet peeves. We each had to pick one annoyance and present it to the class. I racked my brain trying to come up with something that bothered me but nothing surfaced. I finally found one almost twenty years later.
I forgot about this!
But obviously I remembered as I’m writing about it now. Ugh – this whole intro was expositionally inappropriate. I use big words!!!
A few years ago a cop took my license away.
I should mention that I have had a perfect driving record for nigh on fifteen years. I think I got a speeding ticket back when I was twenty-two. That could be a dream I had, however. I truly don’t remember.
Okay, I can’t be the only person that does this. I hope.
Now, mind you, by me sharing what I’m about to share, I am terrified you’re going to think I’m the biggest narcissistic douche on the planet. But I assure you, I’m not. I have a therapist that will attest to my relative well-being.
I'll never give this child another cigarette, pinky swears!
