I’m introducing a new and SO INSANELY EXCITING feature on my blog that you might literally have a coronary reading the very next sentence.
I have installed a timer to display the number of days, hours, and minutes since the last time my cat Pantaloons peed on the bed where I sleep. Right on this very blog.
A few months ago, to eat better and save a few dollars, I decided to bring my own lunch every day to work. I’ve been working professionally since I was twenty-one, and why I have failed to do this up until now, I have no idea.
It’s something small that I do for myself every morning. Actually I do three things that are healthy.
The only thing worse about somebody that has cats is somebody who writes about cats.
So, let’s get started.
If you’re new to this blog, you might not be aware of the seemingly endless saga of my cat peeing outside her litter pan. This is particularly bothersome because I am a fantastic owner. My ex-wife is also a veterinarian. But before I left this weekend for a trip, Pantaloons was kind enough to pee on both the beds in my condo. Within sixteen hours.
Angelica Dawson recently reached out to me to ask about my blog, my writing process, and a bunch of other stuff. If you want to learn even more about me than you already know click here to read the article.
Let’s face it – some cops are dicks.
Not all, of course. But many of them are ex-jocks in high school who got bald and fat and still like to bully people. I personally have no issue with cops, as I don’t think I’ve actually spoken to one in years. I stay out of trouble, and they stay away from me.
I was getting my hair cut today which I do every six weeks. I’ve been going to M Salon for three years. It’s really nice and they let me bring my dog.
My hair stylist has become a friend. I tell her everything that’s going on in my life. She’s really good at cutting hair, too. She also won Best Body during the Miss Illinois pageant, so she’s not awful to stare at in the mirror.
I’ve written before that I’ve never been bit by a mosquito. Or maybe I have but my skin isn’t allergic to the sting. Who knows?
So, when people talk about itching or the red bump shit on their calves, I just stare at them blankly. I have no idea what that is, but it seems to itch like a prick according to you fools. It also must be an endorphin machine because you go nearly orgasmic scratching it. I’m not exaggerating when I say I have never really had any of that. Yeah, yeah, one of God’s chosen. I know.
Back on January 1st, I committed to writing one post a day for thirty days. This was a difficult task for that month, and it caused me to build a few muscles that I hadn’t before. Now it’s mid-April and I have the streak intact.
I used to plan out my posts in the morning on the way to work. I’d draft an outline, write a bit on the subway, and then on the way home from work, try to get most of it down. Then at home I’d add photos, links, do the final editing and publish.
I really try to let my readers know how appreciative I am that they read, continue to read, and comment. I receive heartfelt emails from you and that makes my insides warm (so does diphtheria).
Rachel Thompson and I would like to thank you for all the people that read our debut column, Rachel and Delfin Argue (About You). You nearly broke my all time high daily record for views.
I'll never give this child another cigarette, pinky swears!
