I don’t have to use a walker to pump my gas.
tweet thisFiled under: Deep South, Everyday, faith, humor, life
I have realized, lately, that I am, at best, a third cousin once removed from my own definition of self-awareness. I like to think I'm savvy and a smooth operator, most of the time, but I had a bit of a bitter pill to swallow yesterday, when, on my way back from Scooba (perish the thought!), I had to stop and get gas. This is hardly a new thing for me, but unlike my usual stop-and-gos at the Scooba Junction gas station, I had neglected to look at my gas gauge until I was in Brooksville, about twenty minutes north. I had no choice but to pull...
I daisy-chained the heck out of this head cold.
It was something I’d wondered for years, myself. A.K., bless his heart, was sick with a cold a couple of weeks ago, a cold I should point out that he gave to everyone else. As a matter of fact, Amanda is currently sick with a cold that originated, I would imagine, in the nostrils of some other five-year-old in A.K.’s kindergarten class. Thankfully, it’s a private school. (I really ought to write for 30 Rock; that sounds just like something Jack would say). At any rate, A.K., while sitting at the dinner table two Sundays back, turned to me and asked point-blank: Where does...
The Top 15 Meanest Things You Could Say To Another Person On Purpose, Or Even Worse, Accidentally.
So, I have an evil side. What about it? I don’t like admitting it, but fortunately, by the time you realize it’s true, there’s no point in admitting it because, theoretically, you’re experiencing it, you’re the guy at the other end of it, getting my evil. I’m not sure but somehow that last bit sounded gross, didn’t it. Anyway. I’m human, and being human means coming with an evil side. And it’s a lot easier, every now and again, to revel in that than to pretend otherwise. I don’t try to understand it anymore than I try understanding why people spell words out in front...
Sometimes, it’s a lonely thing. And sometimes, it’s like being Jesus.
Filed under: Deep South, Everyday, faith, humor, life
I really ought to be on top of the world, right now. (And so, that’s why I am). I am 33 years old. And I’m OK with it. I had a great birthday, hobnobbed with artists, all my favorite people around me, and a chocolate cake that could create world peace. And, I didn’t do anything I had to apologize for the morning after, although there were some broken dishes in the middle of the street before the night was over. (And none of the guests were Greek, either). It was a weekend full of good things, good, true things. And despite this lingering...
I try not to abuse the privilege of a horn.
Filed under: Deep South, Everyday, family, humor, life
I like to think I’m a good guy. I know I’m not, but still…it’s nice to pretend. Heck, every now and then I even convince myself. I do try and go through the motions, you know, on a fairly regular basis: being nice, opening doors for the elderly, picking up the random piece of stray litter, speaking when spoken to, lending a dollar on occasion, offering gum…you get the picture. I try and do these things with some consistency. However, there is a very real part of my Daily Routine in which I flat-out, no-holds-barred hate people. And that part is driving. I absolutely hate...
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