I got halfway down the wrong street before the storefronts finally clued me in. (“Wow, was this furniture store always here?” “They put in a bakery?! Overnight?! Ohhhhhh … wait.”)
Tag Archives: humor
Apocalypse Nolan.
Yes, this is normal for me. I just function far better in low light. (And, trust me, I need all the help I can get.)
Think of me as a goofier Walt Kurtz. And a nyctophile. Melanophile? The difference is mostly lost on me.
I don’t employ metaphor.
A salami omelette is called a salamelette.
And that is today’s portmanteau, ladies and gentlemen.
Hey, I’ll go you one better. A hard salami omelette is called a halamelette. That’s even more enticing. It sounds Kosher. (And “harlamelette” sounds too reminiscent of “harlot omelette;” I’m not sure what that would even be made of, but I can’t imagine it’s good.)
Please, no pedanticism about the correct spelling of “omelette,” because it’s too goddam confusing.
I suppose it is obvious that I have strayed from my avowed heart-healthy diet. I need to get back on that horse. (Back on the wagon? Getting to horse hitched to the wagon or something?)
I’m rambling again.
(I myself am offthebeatenpath.)
“I’m not a psycho. I’m an empath.”
Me: “You’re a psychempath.”
Portmanteau Nolan strikes again.
Throwback Thursday: College Nolan!
Circa 1992. With College Girlfriend, no less.
The young lady pictured was always a sublimely cool individual, so I will spare her the ignominy of naming her here. (We protect the innocent at this blog.)
Thanks to MWC Alum Rick Slagle for the photo!
My quest to develop superpowers continues.
Tonight I aspire to genius-level intelligence through massive ingestion of Smart Water.
THE WORLD IS MINE!!!!! BWAHAHAHAHAHA!!!
If only I could say no to crack.
I rise with an alarming CRACK!
Is it my knees or is it my back?
As for why my feet are raging —
these are mysteries of aging.
