Category Archives: Random crap

“Soon” never comes.

There are seven days in a week and “soon” isn’t one of them.  Which is good, because you know when my next book is due?  Soon.  But technically “soon” never comes.  I mean, it’s coming, don’t get me wrong.  But it’s not quite here and at the rate I’m going, “It’ll be done soon” for the rest of my life.

I should probably stop blogging about the word “soon” and instead use this time to focus on my book.

And I will.


PS.  Please make me feel better about myself by telling me about something you should have done already but haven’t yet.  Then we can feel terrible together.  And that’s what friends are for.

PPS.  You should go buy my last book for your mom’s birthday.  Or your cat’s anniversary.  Whatever.  It would just be helpful if I could tell my editor that I’m going to be late on my deadline because I’m just way too busy selling my old book.  Feel free to lie.  This is a safe place, y’all.  Unless you’re my editor.  Then it’s a place to make you sigh deeply and put your head on your desk.

I apologize in advance.

me:  Victor, come in here.  I think maybe Hunter S. Thomcat has a cold.

Victor:  Why?

me:  Because he’s feeling a little horse.

Victor:  That?  Is a terrible joke.

me:  You’re just upset you didn’t make it first.

Victor:  Fair enough.

PS.  Even Hunter seems chagrined at being involved in this bad of a pun.  I’m so, so sorry.  I couldn’t help myself.

RIP, normal conversations.

me:  It’s weird that everyone tweets “RIP” when celebrities die.

Victor:  Hmm.

me:  Because “RIP” means “Rest in Peace”, and that’s basically implying that they want the celebrities soul to not be tossing, or turning, or jogging, or whatever.    I mean, on the surface it seems like it’s a sweet thing to say, but it’s basically just them saying, “Don’t haunt us, famous person.”

Victor:  I didn’t ask for a follow-up.

me:  It’s just seems a bit self-serving, when you think about it.

Victor:  I don’t.  I don’t even really want to talk about it.

me:  It’s just a bit selfish, is all I’m saying.  If people really wanted to be nice they’d tell others to rest in peace while they were still alive.  Who doesn’t want to get some rest in uninterrupted peace?  That sounds awesome.  Best nap ever.  Naps are wasted on the dead.  They can’t even wake up and feel refreshed afterward.

Victor: Still not talking about this.

me:  Unless it was the zombie apocolypse.  Then I guess technically they’d wake up, but zombies never look refreshed.  Just the opposite really.

Victor:  You know, normal couples talk about the weather.  Or politics, maybe.

me:  OH MY GOD.  Maybe that’s what they mean by “Rest in Peace”.  Maybe it just means “Stay dead, asshole.  Don’t wake up and chew on my brains, because I need them.”

Victor:  Or religion.  We could talk about religion.

me:  But that’s kind of even more self-serving.  Plus, zombies don’t read twitter, and even if they did it’s not like they’d read “RIP” and be like “Oh, I should go back to bed.  A nap sounds really good right now.

Victor:  Zombies never nap.

me:  That’s the sad tragedy about zombies.  And THAT’S probably why they’re so grumpy.  Their heads hurt and they want new brains because their brains won’t let them sleep.  Maybe all they really want is some Ambien and Sleepytime Tea.

Victor:  Or we could just sit in silence.  I’d be okay with that.

me:  We should keep some Ambien in our emergency preparedness kit just in case.

Victor:  Last time you had Ambien I found you in the closet convinced you could see through walls.

me:  Yeah, it’s not for me, dude.  It’s for the zombies.  Keep up with the conversation, Victor.

Victor:  I’m trying so hard not to.

me:  And that’s why I’m so focused on our safety.  Because I have to think about these things for both of us.

Victor.  Do you think we’ll ever just have normal conversations?

me:  God, I hope not.

The meemaw effect

This isn’t a real post but I just wanted to share.  I don’t usually get into family details on my blog but I’m making an exception today.

The last decade has been tough for Victor’s meemaw.  Her husband (and Victor’s idol) died, then her daughter died, she lost much of her sight, and she realized she was going to lose the tiny garage apartment she was living in near Dallas.  Last week Victor and I were able to get her a pretty, one-bedroom apartment down the street from us, furnish it and replace her broken appliances, and move her where she’ll be safe and secure and closer to family.  When she saw the apartment she cried because she told us she never thought she’d ever live anywhere so nice.

We are so incredibly lucky to be able to do this for her, and it would not have been possible without you.  In the last few years if you read this blog, or advertised on it, or visited the sponsors, or bought my book, or purchased something from my shop you’ve helped me.  You helped me to be someone I never thought I could be.  You helped me have faith in myself.  You helped me help other people who then helped others.  I know that everything in life moves in ripples and that we affect each other all of the time, but I want you to know that I can see it so clearly today.  You’ve helped me.  I can never thank you enough for the changes you’ve made in so many people’s lives, but I can thank you for the wonderful things you’ve brought to mine.  Thank you.  There aren’t words big enough to say it as strongly as you deserve to hear it.

Never doubt that you make a difference…one so much larger than you could ever know.

PS. In a perfect world I would thank you with a sweet picture of meemaw right here, but I can’t find a good one so instead I’m using this:

He might also be slow-dancing with an invisible lizard. Hard to tell with that cat.

Too many questions.

This was on my Facebook wall.  It makes me smile.  It also makes me question a lot of things:

Mostly things like, why does the story of my life show up fifth in the “giant dildo” column? And what’s a “dildo bat”? And why is there a market for “used dildos”?

You know what?  Never mind.

Some questions just shouldn’t be answered.


I’m starting out this new year with a series of confessions.  It’s very freeing and takes much less energy than making New Year’s resolutions I will spectacularly fail at achieving.  I highly recommend it.  Let’s start:

1.  I’ve been spelling “trifling” wrong for my whole life.  I spell it “trifiling”.

2.  I pronounce “antenna” as “antanna”.  I think I’m saying it properly but everyone assures me I’m not.

3.  I don’t pronounce the “h” in “Huge”.  People point it out.  Lots of people.

4.  There are a number of words which I use a lot, but have only ever read in books so when I say them out loud I just cross my fingers and pray that I’m pronouncing them correctly.

5.  The last person who corrected my pronunciation is buried under the crawlspace.

One of these confessions is not true.  Good luck guessing which one.

Drop the possum.

Every New Year’s Day my superstitious family eats black-eyed peas for luck, and cabbage for money.  It makes everyone gassy, but we still do it because we’re afraid of the demons which apparently punish you for…not having access to peas, I guess?  Still, it’s slightly more sane than other people’s New Year’s traditions (according to this company I know nothing about):

Related: Failing to hear animals having a conversation with you is also good luck in my family.  Or it’s a sign that you need more to drink.  Also, I don’t have a witty way to pull this post together because I’m on a lot of cold medicine, but maybe that’ll bring good luck for the new year.  Maybe being high on cold meds and only half-finishing blog posts are the luckiest ways to end the old year.  I’m so ahead of the game it hurts.

PS. I was just thinking that eating foods that make you super gassy on New Year’s Day is probably a good idea because we’re all hungover and feeling fat and grumpy and it gives us all a good reason to stay clear from each other.  There might be a kind of science to this after all.  Someone get me a possum.