No, I’m not turning into a filthy hipster. There is no facial hair growth on my chin. I haven’t begun experimenting with the vegan lifestyle.
You ever notice how guys that are vegan are total weirdos? You can be a chick and be all the vegetarian you want, but a guy who only eats wheat grass is a bonafide freak. Why is that?
I relay my addiction to white hair plucking and the three things I should have known about food but didn’t. Sadly.
Turns out my mom was wrong.
Sure, there are moments when my condo resembles a dishelved hobo riding the rails, but mostly it’s close to tidy. Note I said “tidy” and not “clean.” I never dust and rarely sweep. If I’m having someone over I run the Swiffer. It’s not really supposed to double as a vacuum, but, hey, close enough.
Since I started this blog, I’ve written over 269k words. 90% of that came last year when I didn’t miss a day of posting. I followed that through to this year and made it day 403 without a miss. And I just about collapsed creatively.
It’s time to recharge the batteries. This will give me the time needed to do some fun things like finish my best-of book, focus on the podcast (which is going strong), and learn how to throw knives at that rotating circular thing with the hot chick in a scantily clad outfit as she twirls around.
I did something uncool on a date recently.
When I was parking my car outside of her townhouse, I applied The Club to my steering wheel.
Now, I am acutely aware that The Club is not fashion friendly. It’s not as bad as producing a two-for-one coupon at Dennys on a first date, but it’s similar.
A few weeks ago I was replying to comments here on the blog and I noticed one of my readers did handwriting analysis professionally. Her name is Theresa and if you want to learn about yourself, I suggest you go visit her site and hire her. She’s great.
I have this new friend – turns out we grew up just a few miles away from each other and know the same people.
In fact one of my more popular stories about the time I saw a high school classmate naked is a friend of hers. She even crafted half of my upcoming book’s title today, and her suggestions were better than what I had penned.
It’s that time once every few weeks where I realize I have nothing to write about and pimp out my readers for some ideas. Here’s what you suggested
Doritos are the Skittles of the chip world. The first twenty six are delicious. The twenty seventh one will make you keel over. Hard. And when I grew up there were only two kinds, the Nacho Cheesier and the Cool Ranch. Two was enough. Sometimes you wanted tang (insert bad joke here) and sometimes you wanted cheese. They were equally good and equally destroyed your breath. Also, you can’t read eating these chips. You will destroy that leatherbound version of Moby Dick that, like me, you have on your bookshelf to impress people. So who cares I don’t know who Queequeg is? You don’t either.
What is it about grandmas traveling together at the airport that is both amusing and touching?
I was thinking about this today as I sat in my terminal watching a group of silverbacks congregate around a garbage can. There were five of them and they appeared to be going on a vacation that required a tremendous amount of paperwork. I know old people aren’t great with technology, but my god the paperwork they were carting around was impressive. Don’t they know you’re not supposed to be that organized to go out to Palm Springs? Not trying to be ageist but I highly doubt they were going to do a fly-over in India and pick up a Sherpa before scaling the Himalayas. Drop the paperwork. Just print out your boarding pass like a normal person. Nothing more is required. You don’t need to have the Tony Orlando buffet dinner tickets for Tuesday night poking out of a manila folder in the airport.
I'll never give this child another cigarette, pinky swears!
