The Groupon Cult October 18, 2014

The other night, I attended a book tour date of a well-known humorist who likes to pick up garbage in England.  The deal had been sweetened by the appearance in my inbox of a ticket discount from Groupon ™!

Upon my arrival at the event, it became clear that the gig was not a sellout—at least, not in the balcony.  Except, as you can see, for those of us who bought the Groupon. Behold, the Groupon Row:

Note the expanse of empty rows behind and in front of us.  Cozy. I was alone, too, with elbows tucked close to my ribs.

We are the Groupon Nation. I’ll bet there was a disproportionately large number of people with smashing mani-pedis, too.

Laws of Science Shattered by Peachyteachy! December 11, 2013

 

Oh, the splendor of blogging.  I’m sure you agree.

But did you realize that blogging defies the laws of time and space? WHAAAAAT? Get Neil deGrassi Tyson on the line!

All true.

Because, guess what? I have exactly one viewer today.  And that viewer is from Canada (I love me some Canada)! But, here’s the coolness: that viewer, according to my scientific stats on Scientific Stat Central WordPress Keeping Track 0’Stuff 3000, is also from SWITZERLAND!!!!!

Dual citizenship is the best I can make of it, without getting into visions of blog readers being torn asunder limb from limb in order to inhabit Canada and Switzerland simultaneously. All in all, though, it strikes me as a message of unity and a reminder of Swiss Cheese, Swiss Miss, the Swiss Alps, poutine, and conflicted French language issues, all rolled into a seasonal basket from Swiss Canada Colony.

In a largely unrelated note, could someone please inform the overly friendly folks over at cox.net that I am not a dude? My junk mail folder runneth over with very sub-Neil deGrassi Tyson subject lines.

Arguably, this strange and miniscule demographic phenomenon has something to do with my continued proud standing:

image: https://www.google.com/url?sa=i&rct=j&q=&esrc=s&source=images&cd=&cad=rja&docid=94-wdVqHX49D8M&tbnid=IMzzfiaQyDA8EM:&ved=0CAUQjRw&url=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.businessinsider.com%2Fneil-degrasse-tyson-star-trek-2013-5&ei=yOuoUq-9CI3rkQfY74CIAQ&bvm=bv.57799294,d.eW0&psig=AFQjCNEMV2MsQjegrnphTs7UrB7vPGP-NA&ust=1386888504089590

Insecure Writers, Rest Easy November 18, 2013

I know how many of you choose November to flex your writing muscles—what with the various “No’s” and “WriMos” and mustachios in the air.

I am here to bring you good tidings.  You need no longer steal furtive glances over your shoulder at the overwhelming fear that you are about to be overtaken in the November writing game by one of my students.

The only competition that these darlings are going to win is the race to use the fewest capital letters.  At the beginning of sentences, I mean.  There are veritable craploads of capitals being tossed about, just for the joy of capitalization itself.

foR examPLe, me and my fiEnd went To the mAll itwas so so so so fUn.

I know! For a second there, I thought I was reading the Unabomber manifesto, too! I’m not sure which celebration of November manifesto-writing that fellow engaged in, but he was definitely on the shaving wagon.

My son tried to read one of my kids papers and it sounded like nothing so much as Middle English.  I call this kid out all the time (my student, not my son) because he is out of control and I have to, even though he can’t help it much of the time.  Who knew he was writing the latter day Canterbury Tales?  The translation of his truly illegible writing was this: “Today my teacher is my best friend. We work together a long time. We read together. She helps me spell words.” (Virtually every word is misspelled. So touching.)

So, friends, carry on.  All is well.  Happy November.  I remain, proudly,

Bloggers Unpressed, Unite! October 26, 2013

I read a blogpost earlier that was addressed to the Freshly Pressed Olympic Selection committee: Dear WordPress…What Am I, Chopped Liver?.

I was inspired. In an effort to determine how long I have been blogging, and therefore how many days I have succeeded in avoiding becoming Freshly Pressed (face it; it sounds a bit painful, after all), I found a cool site that does that figuring out for you!

What coolness yonder breaks!  Go there if you are practicing constructive procrastination!

Remember the old days when you had to do some fancy paper-pencil calculation to figure out such irrelevant drivel? I, for one, am offering up a prayer of gratitude for this heretofore undreamed of convenience!

Which reminded me of how lucky I am to have an automatic washer, unlike that poor osteoporosis sufferer-in-training above, who delighted in the state-of-the-art wringer machine she received one special Mother’s Day or anniversary.  Diamonds, schmiamonds.

I am guessing that that wringer action is what being Freshly Pressed is like.  This is my response to my friend Princess Rosebud‘s post bemoaning her own tenure as an NFP (Not Freshly Pressed) blogger: make it cool to be NFP!  I’m at 631 proud, mediocre blogger days.  I have also managed to keep my Twitter following down to exactly 20. That’s some exclusive club, man.

Further research led me to this gem, a blast from the past from Le Clown, who has since been Pressed.  Good to know that we were, at least for awhile, in good company.

The Cookie Business: A Young Writer is Born October 13, 2013

My son carries on the family tradition of writing weird stuff.

The Cookie Business. Chapter 1 B.O.A.t H history.
Building Our Army
It’s hard to recruit troops into armys, but we are the first cookie deticated army. We recruit children because they are (list) cheap, quick, and love cookies. We pay 40 free cookies and 5$ per child. Once we have 100 children we have a proper army. I already have 3,000 children because a war just broke out. War started because someone challenged cookies with lollipops. A teenager was who started the lollipop army.
Capter 2 UpGrading
We need weapons, they had hard hitting lollipop stick blasters, we had dough turrets; they also had lollibombs. We needed more than standard turrets so we had 11 year old kids (our smartest children) build new weapons. (LIST) Chocolate chip blaster, doughmerangs, and choco tanks. But they now own the air.

I promise to update as new chapters become available. Obviously, he follows a painstaking editing process.