Do you pick up spare change lying on the ground?
I don’t.
I realized this fact on Christmas Eve during our family’s annual holiday party. Carolyn and Laura are two sisters who grew up in our neighborhood. They’re both very successful. One’s a realtor and the other an attorney. The attorney (Carolyn) stated she always picks up change she stumbles across in the real world. Laura does not.
I’m a blog conference junkie.
This year I’m attending New Media Expo (NMX), BlogHer, Type A Parent (mind you, I’m not a parent), and the AimingLow Non-Con. I’m also currently on the waiting list for the Erma Bombeck Humor Writer’s Conference. If I could take more time off work I probably would attend Social Media Marketing World. Okay, enough of this nerdy list. You don’t care.
Two nights ago my girlfriend was cutting up onions for a dinner dish.
I ran into the kitchen pushing her out of the way and squared up to the cutting board. I opened my eyes up as wide as they would go and lowered my face to a mere inch away from the freshly chopped onions.
Great!
All you have to do is email me at dj@thoughtsfromparis.com with your address and you’ll receive one – well, if you’re of the first fifty who reply. That’s all I bought. Addressing fifty cards is a real pain in the butt!
Next, I’ll be in Las Vegas from Jan 2nd through the 6th, and if you’d like to get together for a reader meetup, shoot me a message. I promise to keep my hands to myself. It’s one of those resolution things.
To be funny the other night I audio-recorded my girlfriend snoring.
She, naturally, had the mistaken belief that she was not a snorer. I woke up in the middle of that night to what appeared to be a log splitter set to maximum strength chugging away three inches from my face. Since I don’t find snoring repulsive or an impediment to my asleep, I wasn’t bothered. I found myself laughing at a the idea that a beautiful woman was doing something so traditionally non-graceful.
Every so often I realize that my creativity appears to be slumbering. It is in those moments that I reach out to readers who remind me that their ideas for blog posts are much worse than my own. Here we go.
I actually have a cat vomit story from when I was wee. Goddamn do I love alliteration! Anyway, I was forced to take piano lessons from an old bat named Mrs. Mayhew. My sister and I alternated which meant that for her 30 minutes I would keep myself busy by looking around Mrs. Mayhew’s home. She had, like all old people, a shitload of National Geographic magazines. I found one of the floor which had what appeared to be a 3D volcano on the cover. It was a huge mound of brown hardened glop. Impressed I thought, “Man, this magazine really does some cool stuff!” I reached over the top of the volcano and touched the inside. Smushy. When it was my turn for the lesson I told Mrs. Mayhew how I found the issue with the model volcano on the cover. She looked puzzled, went over to where I was playing and gasped. Yep, the cat had barfed on the magazine cover. Right next to the cover story – on volcanos.
I always wanted to write a piece where I used the word “precipice.”
Just wanted to say that. Great opener, yes?
Let’s move on.
We all need a council of people that will tell us the truth even when it hurts. If you don’t have such a group, you may want to build that into your life.
Yesterday I wrote about how I can fall asleep faster than Jessie Owens sprinting to the bathroom with diarrhea.
Nice – I managed to work in a Jessie Owens reference. Need to update my references. Not very timely.
Since I spend more time on my back than the ladies of a Thai cathouse, I thought I’ve give you some ways to spice up things in the bedroom. No this list isn’t dirty. You can figure out your own grossness. I’m talking about the purity of awesome that is sleeping.
Recently my girlfriend mentioned that I was a picky eater. This was an unacceptable observation to me. I pride myself on being willing to consume anything. I’ve even made proclamations that I’d probably try both dog and cat, and I have both a dog and a cat. See? I’m a fun, free-wheeling kind of guy!
I'll never give this child another cigarette, pinky swears!
