Sexy stranger on Facebook: “Hi, how are you? I saw your post, it was really great, a very meaningful paragraph.”
Pretty sure this means I have finally arrived as a writer.
Tag Archives: humor
Guilty as charged.
But, in my defense, let me point out that Batman is (arguably) the most capable hero in the DC pantheon because he has a contingency plan for ANYthing — even something like Superman going rogue and becoming a villain.
M’ jus’ sayin’.
Now weight just a minute …
From 159 lbs. on January 1 to 145.8 this morning.
Right — not amazing. (And I am obviously no Chris Hemsworth.) But it’s good for me.
I tried everything — including regularly walking five miles at a stretch. I actually GAINED weight. (There’s this weird, irresistible instinct that makes you EAT more, because you’re going on a long journey. I call it “hobbit syndrome.” Seriously!)
The ONLY way I could lose any weight was with calisthenics. Old school.
Throwback Thursday: this unfortunate 1984 ad for the network premiere of “Alien” (1979)
If you are even remotely familiar with Ridley Scott’s “Alien,” then you know that ABC’s marketing staff was not.
John Hurt is looking pretty spry. (At least they had the good sense to leave Ian Holm and Veronica Cartwright out of this mess.)
Anyway … did it really take “Alien” five years to reach network television? I seem to remember (falsely, I suppose) that it hit TV when I was still a very young child. Yes, HBO carried it only a year after its theatrical release — maybe that’s what I’m remembering. (People just called it “Home Box” back in the day. Being a little kid, I thought they meant the physical “box” –the converter — that sat atop the television.)
Yet I also seem to recall my family having Showtime, but not HBO … and people on my street still just called any premium channel “Home Box?” Whatever … it was a verrrry long time ago, and I wasn’t the brightest kid out there, anyway.
Source: Screen Gems on Facebook
Those little elves are bastards. Stomp ’em, I say.
Somebody stop me. I’d been doing so well — I’d eliminated my pot belly almost entirely. I was feeling lean and mean.
Yet, slooooowly old eating habits are trying to reassert themselves. It isn’t even that I really crave candy at night. It’s that I specifically crave chocolate.
It’s like this … at some point, I’ll have a little bit of chocolate before bedtime. But then I will want chocolate EVERY night; it’s like a little switch gets thrown in my brain.
There’s a neat little article right here about whether chocolate should be considered addictive.
F**K broccoli.
Goddam communist vegetable. I didn’t want you for dinner anyway.
Or, more properly, f*** whoever wrote these stupid instructions on the back of the package. A half a cup of water will obviously NOT suffice to cook half a giganto-sized package of frozen broccoli. And I didn’t read it wrong! I’m wearing my glasses!
This maddening confusion does not accompany cheeseburgers! And I always know the recipe is right because I have my own recipes!!!
[Update — hold up! Turns out I was entirely too hasty in my judgement of this broccoli! A half a cup of water is indeed enough, given how it … seeps upward in the pot. (Steams?) I dunno, it’s kitchen physics. And I’m not really an expert on kitchen stuff.]
*Depeche Mode.*
And Hinds and Buzzy Lee and Paul Russell, more recently. I’d name Ethel Cain, but her stuff typically isn’t stuff you can dance to.
The funny thing is that I myself dance exactly like the girl pictured.
There’s another trailer out for “28 Years Later.”
Actually, it’s been out for a while now. It again makes use of Rudyard Kipling’s “Boots.” (I do mean the poem by that title; none of the actors are wearing the man’s actual boots.)
Maybe he’s practicing for a garage band?
People are funny. This is admittedly a terrible picture, but what you see is a nocturnal lone trombone player tonight in the parking level of Virginia Tech School of Medicine building (by Carilion Roanoke Memorial Hospital).
Hey, man — more power to you. Practice your art wherever you can.
Not sure if this meme is too Darko not …
Eric Robert Nolan, Author 