You know, people give me a lot of great advice, and I would be selfish if I didn’t share it with the rest of the world. And what better way to do that than the Internet? So please, learn from the mistakes of others. Don’t ever do these things:
1. Attempt to make your own hand soap.
2. Lay ceramic floor tile in your underwear.
3. Date someone you met on the Internet.
4. Hang Christmas lights while standing on wet grass. (Call 911!)
5. Take six dogs to the vet at once.
6. Have ahem, relations, with someone you met in the park. (Seems obvious, doesn’t it? One would think...)
7. Touch an electric fence to see if it’s working.
I'd like to reiterate that these are experiences shared with me by others. I've only done one of them myself. And no, I'm not going to reveal which one.
How To Spot An Alien
Thought they could fool the entire neighborhood, did they? Well, they didn’t count on my devastatingly perceptive Reporter’s Eye. I’m onto them, I tell you! I know there’s something not quite right about those people next door. The otherworldly noises coming from their house at all hours, the eerie glowing lights shining through their windows, that faint green tinge to their skin...it can only mean one thing. They’re aliens.
Wait! Don’t leave yet! Hear me out, I know what I’m talking about, and just think, if extraterrestrials have invaded my neighborhood, they’ve probably invaded yours too. You need to know how to spot them, and that’s where I can help. As a reporter, I’ve been trained to be observant, to pick up on little clues that other people overlook. And after years of studying my own neighbors, I’ve developed a list of signs that your neighbors might be aliens. See if any of them sound familiar.
Top 10 Signs Your Neighbors Are Aliens:
1. Those funny silver spacesuits they sometimes wear.
2. Their heads are cone-shaped.
3. The husband claims he’s restoring a classic car, but what’s under that tarp looks suspiciously saucer-shaped.
4. They have pointy ears like Spock.
5. Men in black suits show up at your door asking a lot of strange questions.
6. They play William Shatner’s latest album at full-blast, over and over, all day long.
7. They spent their last family vacation at Area 51.
8. Their daughter is president of the Leonard Nimoy fan club.
9. The kids dress up as E.T. for Halloween. Every year.
10. You overhear them talking about the mothership and when it’s going to return.
Wait! Don’t leave yet! Hear me out, I know what I’m talking about, and just think, if extraterrestrials have invaded my neighborhood, they’ve probably invaded yours too. You need to know how to spot them, and that’s where I can help. As a reporter, I’ve been trained to be observant, to pick up on little clues that other people overlook. And after years of studying my own neighbors, I’ve developed a list of signs that your neighbors might be aliens. See if any of them sound familiar.
Top 10 Signs Your Neighbors Are Aliens:
1. Those funny silver spacesuits they sometimes wear.
2. Their heads are cone-shaped.
3. The husband claims he’s restoring a classic car, but what’s under that tarp looks suspiciously saucer-shaped.
4. They have pointy ears like Spock.
5. Men in black suits show up at your door asking a lot of strange questions.
6. They play William Shatner’s latest album at full-blast, over and over, all day long.
7. They spent their last family vacation at Area 51.
8. Their daughter is president of the Leonard Nimoy fan club.
9. The kids dress up as E.T. for Halloween. Every year.
10. You overhear them talking about the mothership and when it’s going to return.
Desperately Seeking: My Sense of Humor
I’ve looked under the rug. I’ve checked under the couch cushions. I’ve even emptied out all of the cabinets, but I can’t find it anywhere. Maybe it ran away. But why? Was I that terrible to live with? I tried looking on the Internet. It wasn’t there. It’s not listed in the phone book. Maybe I should put up flyers: “Missing, Sense of Humor. Large Reward. Last seen...” Wait, I don’t remember the last time I saw it. Maybe I should check the lost and found. Or the morgue. Or the hospitals. Maybe it has amnesia and doesn’t remember where it belongs.
Sense of humor, if you’re out there: Please come home. I promise not to take you for granted anymore.
Sense of humor, if you’re out there: Please come home. I promise not to take you for granted anymore.
Top 10 Uses for a College Degree
It was an arduous journey, filled with unmentionable peril and strife. It was not for the faint of heart. At times I thought I might fail. Just as my elusive goal would come into view, some obstacle would throw itself into my path and thwart my efforts. But I persevered, for I knew at the end of my journey I would finally hold in my hands the object for which I had so long labored: a college degree. And though it cost me several years and several thousand dollars (not to mention my youth and my sanity) I’m glad I stayed the course. After all, there are several uses for a college degree (although getting a job doesn’t seem to be one of them.) So if, like me, you find that that little piece of paper isn’t fulfilling its appointed function, consider one of these alternative uses:
1. Paper airplanes (this is also a good use for those pointless “help wanted” ads in the newspaper.)
2. To line birdcages
3. In case you run out of toilet paper
4. Bookmark
5. Placemat
6. Coaster
7. Scrap paper, for writing:
--Outline for the Great American Novel
--To-do lists
--Ransom notes (hey, you gotta make a living some way!)
8. To wipe up those messy household spills.
9. Kindling (for when your utilities get cut off because you can’t pay the bill.)
10. Origami (very therapeutic--great for passing the time when you get institutionalized for going bananas after going on 20 job interviews in three days.)
1. Paper airplanes (this is also a good use for those pointless “help wanted” ads in the newspaper.)
2. To line birdcages
3. In case you run out of toilet paper
4. Bookmark
5. Placemat
6. Coaster
7. Scrap paper, for writing:
--Outline for the Great American Novel
--To-do lists
--Ransom notes (hey, you gotta make a living some way!)
8. To wipe up those messy household spills.
9. Kindling (for when your utilities get cut off because you can’t pay the bill.)
10. Origami (very therapeutic--great for passing the time when you get institutionalized for going bananas after going on 20 job interviews in three days.)
Words I Wish I Could Use More Often
Words, words, sweet beautiful words! What would I do without you?
I love words. All words, really, but a few in particular. Unfortunately, these are words you don't have much call for in newswriting. I've yet to figure out how to work "nifty" into an article about lupus, for example. So, I'm including all of those underused, underrated, underappreciated words here, where they can finally have their much-deserved 15 minutes of fame. Maybe someday, someone out there will come to love them as much as I do.
1. persnickety
2. curmudgeon
3. percolate
4. dirigible
5. dulcimer
6. nifty
7. nefarious
8. sepulchre
9. squark
10. neutrino
Today's Quotes:
"I would hurl words into the darkness and wait for an echo. If an echo sounded, no matter how faintly, I would send other words to tell, to march, to fight."
Richard Wright, author
I love words. All words, really, but a few in particular. Unfortunately, these are words you don't have much call for in newswriting. I've yet to figure out how to work "nifty" into an article about lupus, for example. So, I'm including all of those underused, underrated, underappreciated words here, where they can finally have their much-deserved 15 minutes of fame. Maybe someday, someone out there will come to love them as much as I do.
1. persnickety
2. curmudgeon
3. percolate
4. dirigible
5. dulcimer
6. nifty
7. nefarious
8. sepulchre
9. squark
10. neutrino
Today's Quotes:
"I would hurl words into the darkness and wait for an echo. If an echo sounded, no matter how faintly, I would send other words to tell, to march, to fight."
Richard Wright, author
How to Cure Writer's Block
1. First of all, don’t panic. Writer’s block happens to everyone--it’s just part of the creative process. Take a deep breath, have a little chocolate and try to relax. It’ll all come together eventually.
2. Make sure your working environment is conducive to creativity. If your workspace is cluttered, or if it’s dreary and depressing, of course you’re going to feel uninspired. Take some time to rearrange your surroundings. Clear out the clutter. Maybe slap on a new coat of paint. Your work will still be there when you’re done.
3. Maybe it’s the computer. Check it for any signs of malfunction. If your computer isn’t working properly, it could be emitting harmful energy, or radiation or even death rays. Give it a good, thorough check-up before proceeding any further.
4. Get away from it for a while. When you’re in a slump, sometimes the best thing you can do is take a break. You’ll return refreshed and filled with new ideas. Occupy your mind with something else. Something enlightening, like “The X-Files” or “The Simpsons.”
5. You know what? I really think it’s the computer. Maybe it’s possessed. Throw it out the window. Immediately. It’s too nice a day to work anyway. Better to go for a walk--nature can be very inspiring. Or better yet, visit a museum or take in a concert. Or...what’s this? An “X-Files” marathon? Who needs to work when you can watch Mulder all day? I believe you, Mulder! The truth is out there!
2. Make sure your working environment is conducive to creativity. If your workspace is cluttered, or if it’s dreary and depressing, of course you’re going to feel uninspired. Take some time to rearrange your surroundings. Clear out the clutter. Maybe slap on a new coat of paint. Your work will still be there when you’re done.
3. Maybe it’s the computer. Check it for any signs of malfunction. If your computer isn’t working properly, it could be emitting harmful energy, or radiation or even death rays. Give it a good, thorough check-up before proceeding any further.
4. Get away from it for a while. When you’re in a slump, sometimes the best thing you can do is take a break. You’ll return refreshed and filled with new ideas. Occupy your mind with something else. Something enlightening, like “The X-Files” or “The Simpsons.”
5. You know what? I really think it’s the computer. Maybe it’s possessed. Throw it out the window. Immediately. It’s too nice a day to work anyway. Better to go for a walk--nature can be very inspiring. Or better yet, visit a museum or take in a concert. Or...what’s this? An “X-Files” marathon? Who needs to work when you can watch Mulder all day? I believe you, Mulder! The truth is out there!
You Know You're a Dog Mom When...
1. People ask you where you got that unusual coat, but you’re not wearing a coat. It’s only that thick film of dog hair that covers every single thing you own.
2. You spend hours preparing your dog an elaborate meal, and only fix your boyfriend a sandwich.
3. You start calling your hand your “paw.”
4. You think dog biscuits look appetizing.
5. You quit your job to be a work-at-home doggie mom.
6. You have the overwhelming urge to tell people to “sit” and “stay.”
7. Your idea of a good time is playing fetch.
8. You start jumping in every mud puddle you see.
9. You let your dog decide who you date.
10. You let your dog decide pretty much everything else, too.
2. You spend hours preparing your dog an elaborate meal, and only fix your boyfriend a sandwich.
3. You start calling your hand your “paw.”
4. You think dog biscuits look appetizing.
5. You quit your job to be a work-at-home doggie mom.
6. You have the overwhelming urge to tell people to “sit” and “stay.”
7. Your idea of a good time is playing fetch.
8. You start jumping in every mud puddle you see.
9. You let your dog decide who you date.
10. You let your dog decide pretty much everything else, too.
The Secret Lives of Vegetarians
As a child, I did something so radical, so disturbing, that my family feared I was careening toward self-destruction. I became a vegetarian.
In their defense, this was over 20 years ago, when vegetarianism was far less common. Particularly among 7-year-olds like me. And particularly in the Midwest, where a meat-and-potatoes diet is practically a requirement.
The shock swept through my family swiftly and without mercy. Some merely shook their heads, thinking it a phase I’d soon abandon. Others grew enraged, berating my mother for allowing her daughter to indulge in such a dangerous lifestyle. And a few grasped this opportunity to challenge a 7-year-old to a philosophical debate. One relative pointed out that plants were also living things, and how did I know they didn’t have consciousness like those animals I now refused to eat? I’ll admit, I didn’t have a good answer for that. I was only 7.
The consensus among my relatives was that I was misguided and sure to perish without the nutrients derived from a hearty helping of animal protein.
“But...but she’ll die,” they gasped.
Despite my attempts to explain that meat wasn’t the only source of protein in this world, and that vegetables were, in fact, quite healthy, my relatives clung to the belief that I was in mortal danger. And they weren’t the only critics. Strangers often fired off a barrage of questions about this “vegetarianism business.”
“So you don’t eat any meat?”
“No.”
“What about fish?”
“No.”
“What about chicken?”
“No.”
“What about on Thanksgiving--do you eat turkey?”
“No.”
Here, they expressed shock, horror, outrage. No turkey on Thanksgiving? Sacrilege!
“What do you eat, then?”
“Everything but meat.”
They always seemed disappointed by such a simple explanation.
Other people were more suspicious:
“Is it, like, one of those secret societies?”
“No.”
“Do you have meetings?”
“No.”
“Are you allowed to associate with people who eat meat?”
“Only if they promise not to give away our secret handshake.”
Sometimes, people thought they could convert me. They described, in detail, their favorite meat dishes, hoping the temptation would be too great. If they were desperate, they tried to sneak meat into my food.
Despite feeling like an oddity at times, there are some advantages to being seen as unusual. I’ve always been painfully normal, but thanks to my peculiar eating habits some people see me as unique. To my family, I am an independent spirit who follows her heart with no concern for public opinion. To strangers, I am an enigma, with exotic ways that are mysterious and fascinating. And who am I to argue with that?
In their defense, this was over 20 years ago, when vegetarianism was far less common. Particularly among 7-year-olds like me. And particularly in the Midwest, where a meat-and-potatoes diet is practically a requirement.
The shock swept through my family swiftly and without mercy. Some merely shook their heads, thinking it a phase I’d soon abandon. Others grew enraged, berating my mother for allowing her daughter to indulge in such a dangerous lifestyle. And a few grasped this opportunity to challenge a 7-year-old to a philosophical debate. One relative pointed out that plants were also living things, and how did I know they didn’t have consciousness like those animals I now refused to eat? I’ll admit, I didn’t have a good answer for that. I was only 7.
The consensus among my relatives was that I was misguided and sure to perish without the nutrients derived from a hearty helping of animal protein.
“But...but she’ll die,” they gasped.
Despite my attempts to explain that meat wasn’t the only source of protein in this world, and that vegetables were, in fact, quite healthy, my relatives clung to the belief that I was in mortal danger. And they weren’t the only critics. Strangers often fired off a barrage of questions about this “vegetarianism business.”
“So you don’t eat any meat?”
“No.”
“What about fish?”
“No.”
“What about chicken?”
“No.”
“What about on Thanksgiving--do you eat turkey?”
“No.”
Here, they expressed shock, horror, outrage. No turkey on Thanksgiving? Sacrilege!
“What do you eat, then?”
“Everything but meat.”
They always seemed disappointed by such a simple explanation.
Other people were more suspicious:
“Is it, like, one of those secret societies?”
“No.”
“Do you have meetings?”
“No.”
“Are you allowed to associate with people who eat meat?”
“Only if they promise not to give away our secret handshake.”
Sometimes, people thought they could convert me. They described, in detail, their favorite meat dishes, hoping the temptation would be too great. If they were desperate, they tried to sneak meat into my food.
Despite feeling like an oddity at times, there are some advantages to being seen as unusual. I’ve always been painfully normal, but thanks to my peculiar eating habits some people see me as unique. To my family, I am an independent spirit who follows her heart with no concern for public opinion. To strangers, I am an enigma, with exotic ways that are mysterious and fascinating. And who am I to argue with that?
Don't Call Me Baby
I'm not covered in frosting and sprinkles, so don't call me cupcake. You can't sweeten your tea with me, so don't call me sugar. And last time I checked, I don't have whiskers and a tail, so please don't call me kitten.
I don't like pet names. I don't like being compared to anything edible, or to any kind of animal, or to anything that reeks of cute. My parents gave me a perfectly acceptable first name -- in fact, I rather like it. There are many names that make me cringe, but since I'm a George Carlin fan, I thought I'd use his "Seven Words You Can Never Say on Television" as a model.
So, here are the seven words you should NEVER call me:
1. Babe, baby
2. Sweetie or sweetheart
3. Darlin'
4. Hon or honey
5. Sugar
6. Dear
7. Girl, girlie, girlfriend
I don't like pet names. I don't like being compared to anything edible, or to any kind of animal, or to anything that reeks of cute. My parents gave me a perfectly acceptable first name -- in fact, I rather like it. There are many names that make me cringe, but since I'm a George Carlin fan, I thought I'd use his "Seven Words You Can Never Say on Television" as a model.
So, here are the seven words you should NEVER call me:
1. Babe, baby
2. Sweetie or sweetheart
3. Darlin'
4. Hon or honey
5. Sugar
6. Dear
7. Girl, girlie, girlfriend
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