It’s someone who lashes out at me whenever I correct their spelling, grammar, punctuation or usage during a political discussion.
You heard it here first, people.
I’m pretty sure I should be a highly paid analyst at a think tank somewhere. You guys get on that.
So I got a couple of early birthday presents in the mail from you writery types …
Thank you!!
I totally dig my “Grendel” comics (Vivat Grendel!), and my wicked cool crystal skulls (I’m pretty sure they make me Indiana Nolan). I must say that I’m still a bit befuddled, however, by the “Horny Goat Weed.”
Exactly how is Horny Goat Weed employed? Is it meant to repel horny goats? (I can’t imagine their arrival is welcomed by most of us.) Or to attract horny goats? (If you want to breed them on your farm, then it would be helpful.) Is it meant to placate horny goats by making them more chill? Is this the kind of weed that Jeff Session wouldn’t approve of?
I’ll update you all as information develops.
You know what obstructs any meaningful commentary on social issues that I see in the news?
Having the damned “P” key stuck on my keyboard.
I’ve told you guys before how it changes “hope” to “hoe.”
Tonight we discovered that it converts the “gay pride” to “gay ride.”
My intended meaning is altered entirely, in other words.
Somebody tell me how to fix my keyboard — lease.
I have to say I think it’s weird
there’s salt and pepper in my beard.
And so today I’d like to scold
my melanin for getting old.
Happy Birthday, Jaine!!!
This cake misspells your name.
The Brits include an “i,”
although I know not why.
I miss you very much —
your charm and fun and such …
Have fun across the sea
With your boys and with Denis!!
Today’s agenda:
1) Give you up, let you down, run around and desert you.
2) Make you cry, say goodbye, tell a lie and hurt you.
C’mon … you know that I’m KIDDING.
I’m NEVER gonna do those things!!
This song is dedicated to writers with W.I.P.’s (works in progress) everywhere.
You know — like something that’s 75 or 80 percent finished, but lacks a proper ending. You just KNOW you need to finish it … even if it’s for no other reason than the sunk costs fallacy. (You’ve already invested so much time and effort!)
I’ve got two such projects. Let’s make a pact. I’ll finish mine if you finish yours. (I almost wrote “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours,” and that’s weirdly Freudian. I’m glad I caught myself.) Anyway, we’ll ALL be winners, so we ALL get the shiny red hats.
Now WIP it
Into shape!
Shape it up!
Get straight!
Go forward!
Move ahead!
Try to detect it!
It’s not too late
To WIP it!
WIP it good!
[Update: oh god, now this song is in my head and won’t stop! Send in Credence Clearwater Revival immediately!]
I just started the Twitter hashtag #spaceforceselfies to troll Donald Trump’s planned “Space Force.” Just take a shot of yourself in any sci-fi getup to parody an eager recruit. You get extra points if you work in a gag directly at the president’s expense within the photo.
This could be a lot of fun if it gains traction among the cosplayer crowd. I’d go first, but I haven’t the slightest idea how to make a costume.
I’d love to figure out a way to make a convincing costume for the Mobile Infantry depicted in Paul Verhoeven’s 1997 adaptation of Robert A. Heinlein’s “Starship Troopers.” This … this might actually just be an elaborate excuse for me to dress up as “Starship Troopers.”
Today’s agenda:
1) Get blinded by the light — revved up like a deuce, another runner in the night.
2) Make sure nobody misquotes me on the above.
Over and over.
Yeah, I know these aren’t exactly crimson. (Or clover.) But I dig The Shondells.
Eric Robert Nolan, Author 