My friend Jon and I are going to entertain you with stories and confuse you with our segues in our podcast that will be published sometime in the future! Isn’t that so exciting and hilariously unspecific as to the arrival of this thing I’m touting with such a bombastic flourish? I’m going to force the issue by publishing a post that says it’s going to happen. Dear Jon, get your podcast pipes primed. Alliteration, baby! Obviously, I’ll have to talk

I don’t come off well in this. First, because I haven’t played in months, and so my game is quite sucky. Second, it’s clear that I’m a complete fool, and I’m prone to celebrating at even the most pathetic of winning shots in a most obnoxious manner. Real adult-like. But Sebastian has a cameo in here, and that makes it worth a little something. [Ed. Note: I should mention that I didn’t wear the togs in preparation for ping pong. I had

I had to do it. I did wait an acceptable amount of time, so I could blame any inaccuracies, missing moments, or outright falsifications on my spotty memory. I got to hang with these three awesome women, and we tried to put a reasonable amount of hurt on a Tuesday night in RVA. I wouldn’t call it a beatdown, but I’m proud of what we accomplished. And now I have to tell you guys about it, so the gelatinous monster

[Ed. Note: Don’t grade me on this one, people. There was no editing AT ALL. There’s usually SOME editing. A smidge of editing. At least a glance at my completed post before I actually publish. This time? Nothing. There will be blood mistakes.] Yeah. I could have just used a sarcasm tag at the end of “cherries” in that title, but I really needed to get the image of a rollercoaster in your head to explain that there are highs and

So your kid wants to write a personal message on all her valentines this year, but that one kid keeps calling her miscreant and she’s not really feeling the love on that one, huh? No worries. I’ve got some very nice entries below for your kid to use. No charge. Seriously. You are a person that I know. Happy Valentine’s Day! You’re dressed in clothes. That naked dream didn’t come true today. Yay! Happy Valentine’s Day! The girl that sits

I used to tell the kids stories before bed. Anna, in particular, used to love them. I’d start at point A and move to point B using a rambling plot that never made much sense until the story ended. But I never started the story with a plot in mind. I’d start with one character. Then I’d just build from there on the fly, speaking the words as my brain supplied them. My only restriction for a story would be that