I’m too lazy to run with a dangerous crowd. Instead, I run with a paranoid crowd. People who shred every scrap of paper they throw away, including every shred of unopened junk mail – even the stuff that isn’t a financial come-on.
We never want for confetti.
I’m not allowed to watch CNN for a while. Last night, I was sort of dozing through the Eagles/Giants game. A player got hurt and it apparently looked serious.
Husband said, “It’s a deadly sport.”
I snapped out of my haze and shouted, “Deadly spores!” I felt like Grandpa from the Simpsons.
That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t read this article,
Cipromania: Selfish and Dangerous, and print it out for everyone you know who’s hording antibiotics. It’s from the Washington Post Health section.
It was strongly suggested to me that I apologize for the earlier reference to rabid Tori Amos fans as the “Tori Amos Mafia.” That was, indeed, insulting. I humbly apologize to each and every individual involved in organzied crime, as well as to their friends, and their families. It was wrong of me, and I am truly sorry for any offense I may have caused.
Mia Hamm Doesn’t Live here! (The link is now dead, but it boils down to tourbuses stopping at my friends house because they think she’s Mia Hamm).
I’ve been thinking of all of the fun you could have with this. Personally, if I was awash in cash, I would hire celebrity impersonators. Maybe Michael Jordan, Cal Ripkin, and Mia Hamm. I’d ask them to have a children’s tea party in the front yard, complete with stuffed animals and teeny tiny tea cups.
Or, buy an old bus at auction. Each week change the paint, painting it to look like a different rockstars’ tourbus. This week, Mia invites the gang from Judas Priest over for a slumber party. When the bus pulls up out front, your Judas Priest impersonators can run into the yard with curlers in their hair, have a pillow fight and then run around back.
How about thousands of deflated soccer balls all over the yard?
Really, being a tourist on a tourbus is pretty damn dull. Why not give them a little bang for their buck?
Incidentally, I’m not the worst pool player in the world…I’m actually the worst pool player in the universe. Just ask Jenn. Maybe after some more practice I’ll be less of a danger to myself and others. Maybe after 20 or 30 more years of practice.
Here’s a valuable lesson Jenn and I learned: if you want any chance of winning it may be best not to play someone who casually mentions just as he’s about to break, and I quote, “we had a pooltable in my dorm at boarding school.” Things do not turn out pretty from there. Fun? Yes. Pretty? No.