Chloe don't know better
Choe's just like me
Only beautiful
First prize is a Cadillac.
Second place, steak knives.
Third place, you're fired.
In my humble opinion, Alec Baldwin's finest moment.
I had a pretty good day today.
^Mop, is George playing bass in this song? P.S. I can play this on guitar. It's easy. Which is why I can play it.
Anyway, it was a phenomenal day.
Just phenomenal. It felt like it did when I won a big trial.
And, it has been snowing all day. In fact, big fat flakes are coming down now.
I'll bring my camera.
PUT THAT DOWN!! COFFEEE IS FOR CLOSERS ONLY!!
I am fairly curious to know what you think I do for a living.
If you guess that I rock out with my cock out, you'd be in the ballpark. I do that, definitely, but I don't get paid for that.
(For the ladies, you go ahead and jam out with your clam out.)
I collect social security checks from my old law firm, on the first of every month, for five years dating back to June of 2005. Basically, I have three more years before I am reduced to eating catfood and living out of a shopping cart, truth be told.
I just realized that I have been writing, in some form, on the internet, for ten years. I just got an email from this guy, Ivan, who has been reading this shit I have been posting on the internet since the beginning. He actually provided the first forum, a message board, that I first started posting on in 1998. He sends me Christmas presents; he calls me. There are other folks from that time who still read and occasionally comment.
I actually submitted something to [redacted] in 1999 that got published. I wrote a column based on an existing character of theirs, a stoner dude who works at Taco Bell, drives a 20 year old gremlin and enjoys miller genuine draft. They liked it, I told them they could have it, and there it went. I started writing as him, and as other people, on a fairly popular message board. I think I had three pieces published.
As far as the message board went, I guess it wasn't so much popular as it was populated with funny people. Really funny people. Good writers with sick senses of humor.
Some of that crowd, maybe 10 or 12 people, read this blog. Some of their links are on the right. Some of them comment here.
In any case, I have been shoveling ths same shit out there for over ten years, and there are some people who have probably read evey word I have written over that time span. Actually, I know there are.
And when you think about that, and think about people who say, "Oh, I'd like to write."
Why?
To make money?
If that's the case, well, keep your day job You won't make money. Believe me, I looked into it. Also teaching. I taught a a college class for two years to see if it might be something that tripped my trigger for when I quit law and moved to Bozeman.
It didn't. The hours were sweet, and if you could get published (and tenured), you can settle into a cozy six figure life... after probably 15 years of toil, at a private, semi-prestigious school like Boston College (Go Eagles!).
That is, if you kisssed the right asses, in the right fashion. You could write your own book and require that your 50 sophomores bought it each semester for $ 85. Seriously, have you bought a college textbook? In law school, at U.S.C., my textbooks cost more than $ 100. And I really didn't even read them. I read summaries of them. Which I also bought.
((Mom and Dad, you should have stopped reading 10 paragraphs ago. You can go ahead and just weep now. Openly. With snot waterfalls.))
(((Note to self: if Tony quits the band, and the Mitten breaks up, consider re-shaping your image, and launching Snot Waterfall. The kids will dig it.)))
--
--
I know I live a charmed life. I know I'm lucky. I was pretty much born that way. Plus, I've kissed the Blarney Stone. Twice.
I'm going to Lambeau Field on Sunday. ((((Snowboarding tomorrow, in case you forgot.) (And getting paid for it.)))))
Does anybody wanna bet on the Giants?
I'll take that action, and the points.
Second place, steak knives.
Third place, you're fired.
In my humble opinion, Alec Baldwin's finest moment.
I had a pretty good day today.
^Mop, is George playing bass in this song? P.S. I can play this on guitar. It's easy. Which is why I can play it.
Anyway, it was a phenomenal day.
Just phenomenal. It felt like it did when I won a big trial.
And, it has been snowing all day. In fact, big fat flakes are coming down now.
I'll bring my camera.
PUT THAT DOWN!! COFFEEE IS FOR CLOSERS ONLY!!
I am fairly curious to know what you think I do for a living.
If you guess that I rock out with my cock out, you'd be in the ballpark. I do that, definitely, but I don't get paid for that.
(For the ladies, you go ahead and jam out with your clam out.)
I collect social security checks from my old law firm, on the first of every month, for five years dating back to June of 2005. Basically, I have three more years before I am reduced to eating catfood and living out of a shopping cart, truth be told.
I just realized that I have been writing, in some form, on the internet, for ten years. I just got an email from this guy, Ivan, who has been reading this shit I have been posting on the internet since the beginning. He actually provided the first forum, a message board, that I first started posting on in 1998. He sends me Christmas presents; he calls me. There are other folks from that time who still read and occasionally comment.
I actually submitted something to [redacted] in 1999 that got published. I wrote a column based on an existing character of theirs, a stoner dude who works at Taco Bell, drives a 20 year old gremlin and enjoys miller genuine draft. They liked it, I told them they could have it, and there it went. I started writing as him, and as other people, on a fairly popular message board. I think I had three pieces published.
As far as the message board went, I guess it wasn't so much popular as it was populated with funny people. Really funny people. Good writers with sick senses of humor.
Some of that crowd, maybe 10 or 12 people, read this blog. Some of their links are on the right. Some of them comment here.
In any case, I have been shoveling ths same shit out there for over ten years, and there are some people who have probably read evey word I have written over that time span. Actually, I know there are.
And when you think about that, and think about people who say, "Oh, I'd like to write."
Why?
To make money?
If that's the case, well, keep your day job You won't make money. Believe me, I looked into it. Also teaching. I taught a a college class for two years to see if it might be something that tripped my trigger for when I quit law and moved to Bozeman.
It didn't. The hours were sweet, and if you could get published (and tenured), you can settle into a cozy six figure life... after probably 15 years of toil, at a private, semi-prestigious school like Boston College (Go Eagles!).
That is, if you kisssed the right asses, in the right fashion. You could write your own book and require that your 50 sophomores bought it each semester for $ 85. Seriously, have you bought a college textbook? In law school, at U.S.C., my textbooks cost more than $ 100. And I really didn't even read them. I read summaries of them. Which I also bought.
((Mom and Dad, you should have stopped reading 10 paragraphs ago. You can go ahead and just weep now. Openly. With snot waterfalls.))
(((Note to self: if Tony quits the band, and the Mitten breaks up, consider re-shaping your image, and launching Snot Waterfall. The kids will dig it.)))
--
--
I know I live a charmed life. I know I'm lucky. I was pretty much born that way. Plus, I've kissed the Blarney Stone. Twice.
I'm going to Lambeau Field on Sunday. ((((Snowboarding tomorrow, in case you forgot.) (And getting paid for it.)))))
Does anybody wanna bet on the Giants?
I'll take that action, and the points.
Labels: chloe's dancing tables in the french quarter, closers, coffee