It’s bad enough that someone has to ask you for a taste of your dessert.
You know who these people are, the ones who sit at dinner with you and decide they’re not going to order a dessert because they’re watching their waist or their daily caloric intake or they just don’t want to impose upon the person buying dinner by adding another twelve bucks to the tab. But ironically, as soon as your ice cream slathered apple pie shows up, they eye your right hand (which is holding the spoon) like a lion ready to pounce. Before long, they’ll ask for a taste…which is just fine by me.
But can you not be an incomplete spoon taster, at least?
It may be enjoyable for you or it may not.
But that being said, who can really fully enjoy words anyway? I mean, sure you can enjoy sentences and paragraphs, but are there really any words worthy of singular enjoyment?
Sure, epiglottis comes to mind as a word I enjoy endlessly…but are there a lot? Nah, probably not.
So, instead of debating the positives and negatives of singularly-enjoyable words, I decided to catch those interested parties up on the wonderful words being printed and brodcasted about my two and a half week old book The Lost Blogs. Click through to catch a recap of some wonderful press.
There’s a reason pockets and purses and briefcases only have so much space to store crap.
It’s because when you leave the house, you should only be able to take with you the stuff you can carry. So if that means you can make it to the car with a cell phone, a PDA, a sandwich and an apple in a plastic supermarket bag, a backpack filled with work papers, something wrapped in tin foil, a small bottle of water and a mini-cactus plant for your office desk…then that’s what you should take.
But why would you bring more than you can carry? Why would you expect that friends and family should be your overflow option in carrying crap? Why do you do this to people over and over again?
That’s my question.
If you stopped once in awhile to look around, you’d see what was happening.
I don’t know if it’s me and I don’t know if it’s just Los Angeles, but it seems that everywhere I go lately there are people trying to infuriate the friends and co-workers around them by wetting their fingers in their mouth, then tapping their friends on an exposed area of their skin in an attempt to, you know, get them all annoyed and worked up. I’m not talking about spitting or gleeking or loogie-ing. I am not talking about coughing spittle or eating a sour candy and accidentally nabbing someone next to you. No.
I am talking about Saliva-Watch 2006.
With all my recent air travel, it has come to my attention that these wonderfully human automated phone servants still suck the big one as evidenced here.
At a spry two minutes, this one won’t kill your bandwidth.
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