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Blogger Summit Update #2
Nine days. It had been nine whole days since I had so much as looked at the “add new” post button before I wrote my blogiversary post yesterday. Nine days in internet time is equal to about nine months in real-time. I could have had a blog baby for all you know. Don’t get any ideas, I wasn’t off making blabies. What I was doing was visiting with an incredible blogger from the Motor City. You probably know him as Adam from My Right to Bitch, The Artist Formerly Known as My Right to Bitch, or more recently Live From Motor City or maybe just that hilarious drummer dude that I was lucky enough to virtually drink fake sake with that one time.
All shoe laces are belong to Jack.
That’s right, he drove himself insane all the way down here to Louisiana to hang out, help me fix my poorly assembled bar stools (ten cool points for anyone who remembers this old ass post), drink beers with me and introduce Jack to the joys of chewing gum. The experience was well deserving of an Adamesque rock hand \m/ to say the least! And, in case you were wondering, he is just as attractive in person. Read the rest of this entry
Meet “Z”
Some friends just stick. Sometimes those friends actually live outside of the computer screen. ”Blasphemy!”. I can hear you thinking it already, but it is true. This post is testament to that. When I first met Z, I was convinced that he was going to set our classroom on fire. Marketing 101. College. His head phones and blaring Tech N9ne were essential to his wardrobe and my uneasiness. Little did I know, he wasn’t actually a murderer but one of my future best friends.
Some friendships are cosmic. He paid me in beer to say that. Part of the deal was also for me to give him some of my spotlight. So without further ado, meet my friend “Z”…
Well hello there! Becky (editor’s note: fuck you) has asked me to step in and fill in some space due to her recent episode of writer’s block. I offered her a couple hits of acid and the leprechauns that do my typing for me, but she refused. I’m not sure why she denied my offer though. Those four creepy little dudes have kept me employed the last three years and even earned me a 2.31 GPA throughout college. Fancy, I know.
Allow me to formally introduce myself. I am Z. Well at least that’s what she named me on here a few times anyway. I’ve been called worse. I am originally from Smackover, Arkansas. Dead serious. Google it. It sucks, I know. But before my recent relocation to the great shit hole of Baton Rouge, Louisiana, the two of us shared roughly 572,890 pitchers of beer together.
I shared with her my knowledge of billiards and was even the third wheel through the entirety of a yearish long relationship of hers. If it wasn’t for her, I would probably be sober. Yes, my life would suck if not for this lovely blonde! (editor’s note again: redhead now dumbass).
Up until recently, I didn’t even know her blog existed. For some reason I had to stalk her on Facebook just to learn this hidden writing talent of hers. But now I understand why we have always texted and only ever spoken on the phone once in our multi-year relationship. And that was more awkward than some random non-blogger dude making an appearance on some chick’s highly popular blog.
When she first asked me to write a guest post, I will admit I giggled with a slight evilness. I thought, “How witty can I be?” and “Oh the people I can piss off with my political views!”. Then I realized she would just delete my post and ban me from the internet, which would cause a riot with the leprechauns. Not worth the risk.
So instead, I must confess to the masses how blessed each of you are to sit right where your rear is currently placed and enjoy reading the very thoughts and ideas that I have been graced with throughout my friendship with Miss Long Johns herself since some time in 2009. I check for new posts quite frequently now, due to the lack of our shared time together. It’s all I can get. She won’t come visit me anymore. Thanks to y’all.
I think I have babbled enough, and her head is probably slightly swollen after reading these kind words. It’s been a pleasure occupying roughly 3-27 minutes of your time. Who knows, maybe one day she will allow me to post something witty and political. Maybe not political but at least witty.
P.S. Her cats are evil. Between Ace, Jack, and my cat allergy, I am surprised I never woke up cross-eyed after drunkenly passing out on her couch all of those nights. Then again, it could have been those three-month old leftovers I always took off of her refrigerator’s hands. Who knows…
Stay tuned tomorrow for the recap of the LaLaBec New Year’s Eve bash. Because you know you don’t remember. Please leave a nice comment for Z while you wait. My writer’s block thanks him and you.
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25toFly 2.0
Photo by Lane Pelissier
Hello and welcome to 25toFly version 2.0. It is finally 2013, which not only marks a new year for clean slates but also my second year in blogging. It also marks the year in which I originally planned to move away from Louisiana. Thinking back upon the birth of my blog, I started to realize how much it has evolved over my first year. What began as an inspirational blog about moving away, quickly became a humor blog on everything from travel and frogs to the sexual encounters of my dear friend Mr. OB.
How I have evolved has also changed over the course of that year. My goals are different. I am different. What I concluded from all of this was that writing this blog was what I needed more than a uHaul. I just didn’t know it at first. I don’t know where I will end up by this time next year. I haven’t ruled out a move, but the urgency for moving away that I felt at the beginning of 2012 has subsided. Just like the many blog posts here that began without the slightest idea or outline, I know I will figure it out. And it will be good. Just keep doing.
Now that my blogging induced awakening has been shared, I can get back to what I have come to love to do here: write stuff that I think is funny and hope you think it is funny too. Here are some updates for the new year. Read the rest of this entry
Emotions: How Do They Work?
I don’t know if it is all of the lovely comments I received on yesterday’s post, the fact that Le Clown tried to help my wasteland Facebook page last night, or the fact that I stopped killing people with fiber wire for a few days, but I am a tad bit… emotional.
First, I heard about this story this morning on the radio.
Word
If you are too lazy to read it, the gist of the story is that a principal gave two boys the option of holding hands for a while or suspension in response to their misconduct of fighting. I missed the first half of the story on the radio stating what the boys were in trouble for, so initially I couldn’t help but think, “Well that sounds like a punishment pulled right out of the homophobia jar”. It made me feel a bit dejected. Then I caught the full story and felt all merry and stuff. The boys were fighting. I believe that holding hands wasn’t a punishment, but rather an opportunity to teach the kids a lesson of humanity. A kiss and make up kind of thing. Whether or not I am right or wrong, I will be running around with the can’t-we-all-just-get-along sentiment for the rest of the day.
Then, as if my eyes weren’t already swollen shut, the radio station announced an opportunity to see real snow here in south Louisiana where I am still wearing shorts and an ankle bracelet in the middle of December. Yes, they are apparently going to fill a part of town with “real” snow. I mean, I was wigging out with happy because of the snow on WordPress, but now they are manifesting the real stuff in the middle of my seventy-degrees-and-sunny town. The logistics of this event are still baffling my sensitive little mind, but who cares about logic when there is poorly frozen precipitation?
After I regained composure, and arrived to work right on time, then and only then did I promptly realize that my pants were ripped in a not so subtle area. It was too late to go home and change. Naturally. Sheer coincidence or life’s impeccable comedic timing? You tell me.
Related articles
- Principal Makes Boys Hold Hands As Punishment For Fighting (queerty.com)
- Smartphones might soon develop emotional intelligence (nanowerk.com)
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Christmas in September
OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG .. etc. etc.
I am going to try not to have an aneurysm and/or vomit glitter right now. If you have been around since I began this blog (a little over six months ago *distant cheering*) you may remember a little something about me. I am heinously obsessed with theChive.com and their sister site theBerry.com. Over the past year I have watched like a caged kitten two feet away from his pals playing with a laser light and waiting ever so impatiently for theChive to have a meet-up that is close enough to Louisiana for me to attend. Well, they did even better than close to Louisiana. The meet-up is in Louisiana.
I can proudly say that today is the day. I shall finally get my wish. I am purchasing my ticket for theChive meet up in New Orleans this Friday!! You know I am truly excited when I use two exclamation points, or when I use an exclamation point period. That’s some serious punctuation that is not to be toyed with. I simply wanted to share my elation, and explain my absence this weekend. Here is what is coming up on 25ToFly:
- Remember how I promised to tell y’all a story involving a cat lady, alcohol, and a sexual fetish? Well, it’s still coming (seriously, no pun intended).
- If the article I attempted to pitch to Cracked.com bombs (at this point I am certain it already did) I am going to finish it and post it here. Yay for rejection and submitting you to my failed writing attempts.
- Something about the shit that goes down at my nail salon. Sounds intense, right?
Some other things are in the works, but I’ll leave you with those three for now. You may also remember a while back I mentioned I was starting a second blog. Well, I did. I launched it last week, but I decided that it shall remain anonymous due to the content containing mainly personally incriminating information.
Oh, and if I do not return on Monday, it is likely I have run off to stalk the editors at theChive. In this case, please alert the appropriate people, like no one.
Here is a grumpy cat too. Are you entertained yet?
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Cordial Holiday Meals With The Cords
I am the savage one. You might want to check your yams for cat-eye crust.
Well, well, well. It looks like Blogger Idol is allowing us peons to play along from the loser’s bench. I sound a little sour, but truth be told I think it is a great idea. I also like the challenge of having a topic provided for me to write about. The topic for this week is Family Traditions. You might need a cocktail for this one.
The holiday season is inevitably rushing towards us. I have to keep reminding myself of this, because in Louisiana it feels like summer throughout the entirety of this thing they call “fall”. I am not quite sure what that word means. The first in the string of holiday festivities for my family is Thanksgiving which then leads straight on into Christmas and ends with New Years. I know you are grateful for that uncommon knowledge I just provided.
I present to you a play-by-play of all three holiday dinners in my household, as they are all identical if you swap a ham for a turkey in December. The predictable behavior that repeats year by year is the tradition in itself. Your play-by-play stars myself, my mother, my father, and my brother. Action! Read the rest of this entry
Dear Hurricane Isaac,
I can confirm this as accurate
Thank you for giving us a reason to miss work, stay indoors, and get paid to drink like it’s the apocalypse.
The new blog is currently under construction. I should finish at some point that is undetermined … if I survive Isaac the hurricane. What I really mean is if I survive the hurricane parties. The torrential winds, spawned tornado, possible flooding and frightening sized hail don’t scare me. Pshhh.
Related articles
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Babies and Bourbon Street
No, this is not a post on the top places where breast-feeding your baby in public would be acceptable. It is also not about drunk babies, sorry.
I am one of those people who tries to multitask everything. I’d rather be multitasking than single-tasking any day. It’s practically a condition. For example, I’ll start off answering a phone call while sitting on my couch, and within a few minutes my neck hurts and I’ve muted myself, because I am holding the phone with my shoulder while eating a sandwich and mopping my floors. This condition can get extremely stressful. The worst is if I do not complete all of the tasks I am juggling, I feel even more stressed. This results in me being even less productive, and eventually I just end up lying on the floor somewhere staring at a ceiling fan. Wait, wasn’t this post supposed to have something to do with New Orleans?
I am blaming my lack of writing lately on my sideshow-gone-bad. Between getting back in to the swing of work, planning a trip to New Orleans (there it is), and arranging a baby shower, writing has fallen off the task wagon. I knew I should have put a seat belt on that one, or at very least, a helmet.
Helping to plan a baby shower while simultaneously planning a four night stay on Bourbon St. has been… interesting. It was quite like juggling two pink scarfs and a handle of Jim Beam. Trying to establish a rhythm using objects of such completely different dimensions is tricky. I felt doomed to drop the ball scarf somewhere along the line (do you really think I would let whiskey take the fall?). Ultimately, I managed to keep my act together long enough to avoid any flying tomatoes. Read the rest of this entry
