In the "About Me" section of my Amazon.com wish list there is a little note that says: "People who buy me things go to heaven." I think I can now put a level of guarantee on that statement.
Tuesday night, when I returned home from a long day in the cotton fields, there was a package from Amazon.com. Shawn Mickschl had sent me a copy of the 2005 Novel & Short Story Writer's Market. Shawn is working toward becoming a Methodist minister. If anybody's getting past the Pearly Gates, it'll be him. Thanks, Shawn.
I was thinking yesterday about growing up in Dallas. There was a kid named Josh whose dad had an AMC Gremlin up on blocks in the front yard. There were garter snakes in the glove box. MTV, pimp my ride!
Now, pimp my M&Ms.
Better than Subservient Chicken, it's Subservient Christmas.
One of my co-workers is compiling a collection of all the year-end lists he can find.
I'm still playing with these journal topics, but I am hung up on the next one down the list: What is the worst thing parents can do to their children?
Set them on fire, I suppose. Or molest them. Perhaps both. And maybe throw in a bit of psychological abuse: "The flames don't hurt that bad, you pansy. My god, you're fat. Remember -- this is our little secret."
With the number of depressingly pathetic people I read about each day, I think the dark side of my sense of humor can run beyond the limits of bloggable acceptability.
I'm like that. My friend Eric says that one of the things he likes about me is my ability to offend people without even realizing that I'm doing it.
The other day I was talking to someone at a party and made a reference to multi-tasking in pornography:
"That's a lot of work for the guy, you know. He's in front of a camera crew, he's got to keep his leg in some awkward position -- and if you've ever tried some of that stuff at home it's tricky to get the balance right -- and he's got to suck in his gut and occasionally give the camera a cool-guy look and remember to spit in her ass... Uhm. I just went too far there, didn't I?"
"I think once you've introduced porn into a conversation; I'm not sure there's a ceiling," Anthony said.