These are posts that will go in the blog, under the slider
A few months ago I mentioned I was working on a big project. I asked many of you to sign up for my private list so I could get your feedback.
I am sad to announce that I decided to not move forward with the project. Since it’s scrapped, I’ll tell you what was in the works.
Yesterday I wrote about how I sweat through shirts when it’s hot out. I think my body just runs warmer than most. It’s not a lot of fun when you’re trying to impress a chick at the Taste of Chicago in early July eating a turkey leg sweating like a moron.
Since we’re not a military family, Memorial Day is time we spend with each other. My sister, boyfriend, and parents are up here, along with my girlfriend.
Even though have a loving and supportive family, I need to vigorously exercise to feel comfortable around them. Basically it’s the equivalent of taking a few belts of Schnapps before Thanksgiving dinner. A mellower. Since I don’t drink, exercise is the only option. Valium works too, but I’m one of those sober people, so I can’t do that. Damn my addictive genetics!
Was 98 degrees in Chicago and we tooled around doing stuff outside. My mom, dad, girlfriend, sister and boyfriend are all here.
One of the weird body things I have that I can’t seem to change is this sweating thing.
Here’s the deal. I don’t sweat under my armpits. Not sure why. I mean, maybe it’s just that I use deodarant, but I’m pretty sure most dudes do. Some guys, though, halfway through the workday their nastiness has bled through the undershirt and into the Brooks Brothers. It’s awful to look at, and those poor shirts just get ripped up. Those guys might as well just buy yellow shirts to match the future armpit stains.
How many Chihuahuas are currently sleeping in your bed?
All of you that have less than two please take one giant step forward. Not so fast, Mr. Paris.
My girlfriend Jessica has been here for the past two weeks. She brought her cat and dog, who happens to also be a chihuahua. His name is Dirk. Mine, as you may know, is Lil’ Miss Meepers. Both dogs get along swimmingly and cause no problems in my life.
I have been plagued by an annoying thought for the past few months.
My website simply loads too damned slow.
Partly it’s my fault – I have burdened this bitch down with tons of scripts, images, and customization. I’ve tried various solutions to decrease load time like eliminating extraneous functionality, moving my server to a cloud, combining image sprites, caching stuff, and all sorts of nerd crap. Nothing works.
When I got my place nearly seven years ago, I opted for the top floor in our building. The floor plans are essentially the same in each unit, but the fourth floor (the top) has the highest ceilings. I think they’re 13′ feet or something. Whatever – I thought it was cool.
Today I am proud to announce that at AimingLow’s very first conference (awesomely titled, Non-Conference), I will be part of the group that speaks to attendees.
If you’re a blogger, this is a must. Last year I went to BlogWorld LA – loved it. Not only did I get to hear from some of the most effective bloggers online, but I met and hung out with people who were passionate about blogging – you know, nerds. I have five close friendships today that started and blossomed there.
Just last night I found an old file with letters, poetry, and other nonsense I had forgotten about from long ago. As a 35 year old, some of these writings date back to 1995, a year after I graduated high school.
You may or may not find this amusing, but I discovered a piece I had started to write (for myself apparently) about how high schoolers should drink alcohol because being in high school is stressful enough. Obviously, it’s satire. I really don’t care if your kids drink or not. I have my own problems.
I'll never give this child another cigarette, pinky swears!
