Seeking disappointment

There is nothing I like more than finding humor in unexpected places.

This weekend I was scanning Craig's List for a bed to go in our soon-to-be redecorated spare bedroom. It has served as office/hubby's dumping ground for years, and I am reclaiming it to serve as a beautiful little room that no one will sleep in. But it will be so pretty.

After scanning the crap people want to sell for a half hour or so, I flipped over to the personals. I skim these for two reasons, 1) It's interesting to see what people look for in a mate, and b) It reminds me to be thankful that I no longer have to date, because, DAMN it is lonely out there.

This time, one caught my eye, "Looking for my future second ex-wife.." Oh yeah, that has to be good.

I was rewarded well for my interest. This post was sarcastic, caustic and downright hilarious. Although this guy hits on some of the most stereotypical aspects of marriage, he does it with a high-brow snobbery that makes my writer's heart happy.

It's obvious I need to lock myself into another long term pseudo-religious contract that will ensure bitterness and hatred.

I'm hoping for sex to become a chore or a sleep aid, and basic hygiene and grooming to take a backseat to syndicated television. And what about the years of passive-aggressive bickering and codependent nonsense?

Seriously, how could you not love this guy?

Twisted and tangled

Overheard at the part-time writing gig, supposedly while I was writing the latest edition of my fabulously popular newsletter. I specialize in sarcasm, in case you didn't pick up on it right there.

Me: Listen to this, according to Sleep to Be Sexy, Smart and Slim (the latest addition to 'Today on my desk') the author recommends you sleep naked. She says, "It's easier to adjust your comfort zone with the sheets and blankets you can pull up or thorw off rather than a long nightgown or a pair of fleece pajamas. The idea is to make the adjustment in a way that rouses you from sleep the least."

I could never do that. I just get too cold!

Bodiless voice from the next cube, who happens to be our IT guy: But it's true! It's much easier to throw on covers or kick them off.

Me, catching the eye of my editor MK, who looks horrified: But what about stickage? I hate when you spoon naked and your skin sticks.

IT guy: Get a thin cotten sheet and slide it between, you can still spoon but you won't stick.

Me: Well, it seems like (IT guy) likes to sleep NAAAKEEED!

IT guy: Now wait, that's an assumption.

Me: Are you kidding me? You just gave a detailed explaination about why someone should sleep naked and how, it is a good assumption.

IT guy: But how can you know if it's really true or not?

MK: I'm just going to go hide in the bathroom now .... Call me when it's time for lunch.

Can you hear the drums Orlando?

This weekend, the hubby, ball of fire and I took a trip to the great state of Florida where the thrills of Universal Studios awaited.

Vacationing is a favorite pasttime of ours, one that we partook much more frequently before the ball of fire, but alas. And, we're very lucky to have found friends with whom we can vacation. Their three boys range around the ball of fire and he gets along with them all. Her hubby and mine have the same sense of humor (a la' 12-year-old boy). She and I have a people-watching fetish that puts many others to shame. And this weekend, we went all out.

I'll start by saying that the people watching at Florida theme parks ranks -- on a scale of 1 to 10 -- at about a 35. Seriously.

The things that people will bare in public amaze me. It's no longer good enough to bend over and flash a pink thong. Or try on a short tee that lets your belly button peep out. These days, you're not flashy until your ass cheeks are hanging out, your boobs are about to pop loose and your muffin top is basking in the sun.

There are some parts of a person that should remain hidden except under the cover of darkness. Unfortunately, I saw too many of those parts in broad daylight. And it scared me.

And ocassionally, I took a photo... Is that wrong?

Laugh it up, fuzz ball

I have been known to throw a little pro-bono writing around town, and lately I've been sharing the love with the local chapter of the Human Right's Campaign.

Their annual fundraiser and comedy night is quickly approaching. To gear up for the event, they are hosting a stand-up comic talent contest. The winner will open for the two main acts at the comedy night in November.

Today I was pitching a press release for the event (which I helped write) when I thought to myself, "Self, one or two people in KC read your blog, why not post the release there."

What a damn good idea, if I do say so myself.

The Call for Comics contest is at 7:30 p.m. on Oct. 18 at Bar Natasha, 1911 Main in Kansas City. If you're in the area, or just in the mood, please stop by. It will be fun, not really free, but certainly entertaining.

Dog shit crazies

Today, on the way home from Starbucks where they "accidentally" added whipped cream to my orange mocha orgasm and I was "forced" to accept the drink with that dollop of sweet, creamy goodness, I found myself behind a minivan with a simple, yet powerful bumper sticker that stated, "Dog People Are Crazy."

I took a picture and e-mailed it to my mom, because on my son's fourth birthday, she called to remind us that it was also Mica's birthday, her chocolate lab.

They are speaking my language

Recently I had the great honor to see my friend Bob (the greatest actor in the world) in a local production of "Laughter on the 23rd Floor."

Bob is a lucky fellow. He found something that he loves to do, he's damn good at it, and he does it as often as possible. But he's also found a fabulous group of friends who share his passion so he gets the opportunity to work with them again and again.

I had seen "Laughter" a few years ago when it was a movie starring one of my all-time favs, Nathan Lane.

There's just something about live shows that make it better. For example, there is a particular scene where a Russian character is trying to tell another character to go fuck himself. Of course it comes out oddly due to his bolshevick accent. To which the other man replies, "A person can't be an American until they can say 'Go Fuck Yourself.' "

Now anyone who knows me also knows that "go fuck yourself" is my signature line. (Ken, you know.) So it elicits my highest praise and gratitude to hear it so blithely used in such a manor.

It also reminds me that I too am pretty lucky to have found my own passion, my own brand of dramatic interpretation. I am an artist in the truest sense of the word. I explore every aspect of my trade from the flouncy florish of a short story to the droll drudgery of a corporate piece. But it's in the fuckery of it all that I really excel.

God, but I do love the English language!

Technicolor me

I've never been a big fan of The Simpsons. However, that didn't stop me from popping over to the new site for The Simpsons movie to create an avatar of myself as a Simpsons character.

Pretty freaky comparision, isn't it? Look at the size of my Simpson's hair!

English, five easy lessons

My friend Lauren was telling me the other day that you can go to Korea and teach English with very little training. In fact, the requirements include that English is your first languge and they prefer if you don't speak Korean.

I'm thinking that might be fun to try.

Or, I could just try this program.