Pith (twitish form)

Crying doesn’t make me feel bad. It makes me feel alive. (In conversation with a woman who wondered if her blog post made me feel bad/sad.)

05-14-2015: The Thrill Is Gone.

“August 6th, 2015, a date which will live in infamy.” How has no one tweeted that yet?

Alcohol cleanses the wound. Every night.

I’m so f’ing sick of seeing news articles – including those in liberal publications – referring to “mankind”. How hard is it to just add 2 letters: “humankind”? Dismissive misogyny must not be dismissed! End rant.

I’m already thinking “Dumb premise.” when I hear a sentence that begins with “Kids today…”.

When my phone rings, I’m terrified that it’s coming from outside the house.

It’s not later yet, but it will be.
(Not Really a Corollary, but still: It’s not yesterday yet, but it will be tomorrow.)

My blog: half sarcasm, half wit. (half full & half wit?)

“Emojis” is what us hep cats call ’em, if I’m groovy with these kids’ current vernacular.

The implicit fallacy of The Golden Rule becomes painfully obvious when it is earnestly applied by an ardent masochist.

I have an imaginary sex life that would make Freud’s cigar hard.

Find the most agreeable man on earth. Accuse him of being a contrarian. Step back and watch his head explode.

Fact (aka certain knowledge) obviates faith.

In an exceptionally rare occurrence this year (2014), Thanksgiving falls on the Jewish holiday known as Thursday.

It seems like “penultimate” should be everyone’s second-favorite word.

Home is knowing where the light switches and table legs are in the dark.

I really hope you will watch (well, listen to) this video of Joss Whedon talking about “feminist”. Thank you.

My Sweetheart just texted me: “Honey, I’d choose you even if you were the last person in the world.” I think I may need to start flossing and brushing more often.

 — October —
Autumn on us,
All too sudden.

Noli timere. 8-30-2013.

Mowed the lawn, cleaned my electric razor, doing a big load of laundry. I’m a wild man today.

Does this blog make me look phat? Sigh, I thought I was being SO clever coming up with that one. Just did a Google search on that exact quote. It yields 6,310 results. Well played, blogging world, well played.

I believe humans and modern primates share a common evolutionary ancestor. And his name was Hector. A randy hominid, he.

I believe baby boys should not be circumcised, but all females should be circumspect.

Took the dogs in for their annual vaccinations today. Guess it’s ok now to let them watch Old Yeller again.

Just did the Myers-Briggs Personality Type Test. It says my Indicator is BDSM, the “Spankee”. Didn’t even know that was possible, but can’t argue with “science”.

“I’ll try not to slosh any on you or in your margarita, but drinking men dare not make promises.” (very early draft line in a country song I’m trying desperately not to write.)

I often (well, almost never) wonder if Janis Ian could have handled the truth at seventeen if Jack Nicholson had been all in her face.

Comfy pants. Remember, you heard it here first!

It wasn’t until I saw Return of the Jedi that I realized that those were NOT “light savers”. “Oh!” I muttered, “Now it makes SO much more sense.” Then I popped another Milk Dud and savored.

Twitter 3.0 is alleged to be in beta. It’s rumored that it will require at least every third tweet to be ironic. There seems to be a raging debate as to whether that means Merriam-Webster ironic or Alanis Morissette ironic.

I really think this blog is going to be my magnum ohpiss!

Law of Devolution: Twitter 2.0 will allow only 80 characters, no vowels, and you must include at least 3 animated emoji.

I’m twitter-bitched. Reading more than 140 characters now is like sitting through a Mandarin-dubbed version of Gone With The Wind with German subtitles. Dammit Rachel Lichtman, Megan Amram, Alex Baze, Shari VanderWerf, Bryan Donaldson, Jason Miller. All Your Fault!

You lost me at “eclectic”.

What’s the Latin for “Seize the day after tomorrow, but kindly make an appointment first.”?

I think Patton Oswalt has made the best statement yet about the Boston Marathon tragedy. I really want you to read it.

This isn’t the blog you’re looking for.

You lost me at “love to laugh”.

You’re the yin to my yang-ass-stupid.

I’m more of a carpe crastinum kinda guy.

Before patting yourself on the back for thinking outside the box, make sure you’re not simply still inside an even bigger box.

I’m not the druid you’re looking for.

Thank you, Roger Ebert, for all the lovely words you’ve left us. I’m sad there will be no more. You inspired me. You still do. You always will.