Super Bowl pre-game

I just realized the only way to end a conversation about the super bowl is to say, “Should be a good game though.”

I just spent half an hour telling a coworker why it is going to be a bad game. Two defensive teams. Cam dancing around like a cocky jerk. Manning throwing record numbers of interceptions this year. Bland running games on both sides.

Yet, when I walk away I feel something slipping off my tongue. Unable to stop myslef, I blurt, “should be a good game though.”



“Blogging is like a coffee shop where all the patrons sit alone and have loud conversations with whatever is in front of them, which is rarely a person, and even more rarely an interested person.”


Perhaps a blog is not the right place to say this, though…

Have you ever…

have you ever wore a new pair of socks that were so new they were slippery and every time you stepped in your dress shoes, your feet slid forward about half a centimeter (for my American readers, think of this as about the width of a french fry… McDonalds…not Wendy’s) and made a squeaky vibrating noise that was so annoying you tied your shoes tighter but that cut off the blood circulation to your feet and then your feet fell asleep so you walked around lifting your sleeping feet up and down like you were a puppet on a string?
No? Oh. me neither.
Just asking.

“I’m Da best”

A question my friends never ask me, but I wish they would is this: “In these days of financial uncertainty ¹, what is a sound investment?”
Well, thank you for asking, hypothetical friend.
Here is a bit of wisdom I learned in an investment seminar²:

“You will always get a good return on your investment when you invest in yourself.”

ave person
It’s on the internet, so you know it must be true. Check it out.

Which, of course, is true if you are someone like bill gates or elon musk. However, a fundamental truth about nearly everyone I’ve ever known is that the average person thinks they are better than the average person.

This has always been the case, but is now painfully evident with the internet. Now any number of idiots can write about anything they want… say, their ailing colon… and expect people to listen and read their musings.

So, in short… you’re probably not that great, but keep trying cause that’s how you improve. (I’m thinking of writing here…if you suck at other things, like juggling knives…maybe it’s best to not keep trying while you still have a few limbs left)

I recently read a great blog post about what is valuable when using social media. Check it out here.


¹ I’ll be honest, I have no idea if the markets are financially unstable. But, I did see a scary click-bait add on about a guaranteed market collapse within 5 months. (It turned out to just be an add…but still, you never know)

² by “investment seminar,” I mean “overheard at chipotle.”  But hey, at least it wasn’t Qdoba, AMIRITE!

Mmm Cake

My wife made me a marble cake…
But I mistook it for a granite cake.

That joke exemplifies how I feel about blogging. If there is something humorous to write about, I kill it with poor delivery.11.16.15
But that’s why they call it a “blog,” I guess. (In Latin, “blog” means “a pile of steaming chicken poop, but we see that you made an effort, so good job nit wit” Latin is laden with insults, which is why Latinas now speak Spanish instead of Latin. true story.)

So thanks to the few of you who muddle through the sloppy wording and poor comedic timing while I learn how to write good. I’ll be sure to thank you in my first book.

Pinkie Poo


I was thinking today (by thinking I mean “using the toilet”)…Since I use the bathroom about 5 times more frequently than someone who does not have colitis, it is five times more impressive that I haven’t gotten pink eye yet.

*edit: after a cursory check  of the internet, I have learned that pink eye can be caused by many things, and not necessarily always fecal matter in your eyes. But let’s be honest. If you have pink eye, everybody’s gonna assume you were slingin’ poo like a monkey at the zoo. Which is fine. You can sling poo like a monkey if you want to. As long as you don’t throw it at the monkeys. They don’t allow that. Trust me, I know. Some of my best friends are monkeys. Ha. Just kidding, I’m not cool enough to hang with the monkeys.

Thoughts from the Handicap Stall

Oh, hey you. I know you. You are the leading expert on all things political, racial, and sports doping related since reading Quartz this morning, aren’t  you?

Well, I’m gonna tell you about a bigger issue than all of those.


Here is a test: think of the last pencil you used. Was it wooden? Nope. It wasn’t. It was mechanical. You know how I know?

Because they aren’t making any more wooden pencils. There are exactly NO more trees in existence that have yellow bark and graphite cores to turn into pencils. We used them all up before we even realized it. I know because I googled it.

Still feel smart, smartypants? hmm?