While not nearly as impressive as beating swords into plowshares, this morning I temporarily turned my laptop into a writing board. It’s Christmastime, which must mean that I am tardy sending out my Christmas cards to relatives and friends. So, in addition to my laptop I dragged my Christmas cards to the coffee shop this morning an proceeded to catch up. I guess I was also hoping that some attractive lady would think “Wow, that ruggedly handsome man is writing Christmas cards? What a perfect combination of looks and kindness *swoon*.” Hey, a man can dream, right? A man can also fantasize, but only in the privacy of his own home (see also George Michael and Pee Wee Herman). Try The Veal!!!! I’m Here All The Week!!!
Christmas cards harken me back to my youth in New York. Growing up in a Ozzie and Harriet household, my mother decorated the house around Christmas like a fiend. Sometimes I think she was born to decorate for Christmas. We had a trimmed tree, obligatory nativity scene and slogans like “Merry Xmas” (cut us some slack, it was the 70’s and we used to say things like “Xmas” and “Keep On Trucking” back then) sprayed onto the front window with fake snow. It seemed like mom spent days writing out Christmas cards and would then walk them down to the mailbox on the corner to send them on their merry way. She had so many cards I thought that she was either the most popular woman in Whitestone, or that we had the largest family ever (I am the product of non-birthcontrol using Catholics). Today I realize that I am wrong on both accounts, but don’t care because it will never ruin the memory.
The beard keeps winning praise (from women I might add). This eventhough it has moved from George Michael to Grizzly Adams. One of today’s tasks it to find a beard trimming device in order to tame this beast. The New Electric Razor Hostage count is now at 20 days.
Sunday marks the **th birthday of one of my favorite people in the Whole Wide World, *****. You know who you are and if for some reason happen to drop by and read this, Happy Birthday Yo! “You’re The Tops!”
I thought I had many more ideas to pump out today, but have seemed to run out of creativity….
Cheers!
Paulie [eatl/ga]
Turning Laptops Into Writing Boards
While not nearly as impressive as beating swords into plowshares, this morning I temporarily turned my laptop into a writing board. It’s Christmastime, which must mean that I am tardy sending out my Christmas cards to relatives and friends. So, in addition to my laptop I dragged my Christmas cards to the coffee shop this morning an proceeded to catch up. I guess I was also hoping that some attractive lady would think “Wow, that ruggedly handsome man is writing Christmas cards? What a perfect combination of looks and kindness *swoon*.” Hey, a man can dream, right? A man can also fantasize, but only in the privacy of his own home (see also George Michael and Pee Wee Herman). Try The Veal!!!! I’m Here All The Week!!!
Christmas cards harken me back to my youth in New York. Growing up in a Ozzie and Harriet household, my mother decorated the house around Christmas like a fiend. Sometimes I think she was born to decorate for Christmas. We had a trimmed tree, obligatory nativity scene and slogans like “Merry Xmas” (cut us some slack, it was the 70’s and we used to say things like “Xmas” and “Keep On Trucking” back then) sprayed onto the front window with fake snow. It seemed like mom spent days writing out Christmas cards and would then walk them down to the mailbox on the corner to send them on their merry way. She had so many cards I thought that she was either the most popular woman in Whitestone, or that we had the largest family ever (I am the product of non-birthcontrol using Catholics). Today I realize that I am wrong on both accounts, but don’t care because it will never ruin the memory.
The beard keeps winning praise (from women I might add). This eventhough it has moved from George Michael to Grizzly Adams. One of today’s tasks it to find a beard trimming device in order to tame this beast. The New Electric Razor Hostage count is now at 20 days.
Sunday marks the **th birthday of one of my favorite people in the Whole Wide World, *****. You know who you are and if for some reason happen to drop by and read this, Happy Birthday Yo! “You’re The Tops!”
I thought I had many more ideas to pump out today, but have seemed to run out of creativity….
Cheers!
Paulie [eatl/ga]