Tag: comedy

Dude, where’s my blog tour? Oh, right — it’s at #mywritingprocess

Coming to a blog near you! (Unless we break down)
Coming to a blog near you! (Unless we break down)
That’s right! It’s time once again for Ned’s Nickel’s Worth on Writing, when I draw from 15 years as a newspaper columnist to offer insightful writing tips that Publisher’s Digest has heralded as:

“Wisdom ahead of its time, assuming you’re running late…”

And what The Master of Horror® Stephen King calls:

“Writing affirmations that keep my lawyer on speed dial…”

But enough accolades!

As I mentioned in last week’s NWOW, this week’s edition was going to be a little different thanks to fellow blogger/columnist/Canadian friend Ross Murray at Drinking Tips for Teens, who invited me to be a part of the #mywritingprocesss Blog Tour. There are several reasons I’m both excited and flattered to be a part of this blog tour, which highlights the creative process of different writers each week. I’m excited because sharing my process might be helpful to other writers; I’m flattered because Ross admitted I was “On a short list of writers, after my dog chewed up most of it.” Continue reading Dude, where’s my blog tour? Oh, right — it’s at #mywritingprocess

Remembering the journalistic icon known as our newsroom door

Yes, this is our actual newsroom door.
Yes, this is our actual newsroom door.
If you’ve been following this blog for less than a year, you probably don’t know our newsroom has a door. But wait! It’s not just ANY door. Over the years, The Door has become more than just a way in or out of the restroom, or something that occasionally gets “stuck” when our editor is on the other side. It has been a work in progress since the early 1970s, when it became a place for journalists to display the best and worst examples of headlines, typos, cutlines and correspondence they found. As a result, The Door (of Shame, Blame and Brilliance) evolved into a journalistic Mecca.

A shrine.

A print media Wailing Wall.

And a place to ask that eternal question:

How did THAT make it into print without someone noticing?!?

In addition to its significance as a sentinel of journalistic history, it also contains enough tape, glue, wax and paste to withstand the blast-radius of a backfiring 1967 Volkswagen Beatle. Continue reading Remembering the journalistic icon known as our newsroom door

Just like Justin Timberlake and sexy, I’m bringing May Day back

(Don’t Panic! It’s only Monday! While it’s true I don’t generally post until Tuesday, this week is an exception because someone has misplaced Monday. Probably one of my kids. So if you’ve seen it laying around anywhere, please let someone know. Oh, it also happens to be my turn over at Long Awkward Pause! So until we find Monday, feel free to read why I need your help in bringing May Day back…)

image Somewhere, lost between the risen Lord of Easter Sunday and the more laid-back Dos Equis guy of Cinco de Mayo, is the Roman flower goddess Flora, who used to reign supreme as THE party icon this time of year.

Nowadays, any May Pole dancing is purely coincidental, at strip clubs, with the only reference to Flora the flower goddess being dancers named “Daisy.” How did a celebration dating back before Jesus somehow get lost in the shuffle between Easter eggs and Mexican beer bottles? Even when I was a kid, which I’d like to point out was well after the resurrection and as recent as the 1970s A.D., I remember dancing around the sixth-grade May Pole and savoring the opportunity to hold hands with Sara Getlost as she cried out in springtime rapture, “Ewww! Ewww! Your hands are SWEATY! Ewww!”

It’s that kind of wild, springtime ecstacy that May Day and the goddess Flora were all about… (More at Long Awkward Pause)

Sad breaking news…

DATELINE: OREGON — Call it a sign of the times, but this image shows how even in a state where all residence are required to wear hiking boots and smoking is strictly limited to medicinal marijuana (mostly), childhood obesity has gotten so prevalent that some parents are being forced to sell their children…

Sadly, more than 100 families in Harrisburg, Ore. have opted to sell their "huge" children rather than pay for a health club membership.
Sadly, more than 100 families in Harrisburg, Ore. have opted to sell their “huge” children rather than pay for a health club membership.

A gift from The Hook (or why I tell him I don’t celebrate Christmas)

image They say the best gifts are the ones you never ask for. They also say to never look a gift horse in the mouth. While I agree with both of those sentiments, I have to assume “they” have never received a gift from Robert Hookey, comedic maestro behind The Hook and Rob Ford’s running mate for the 2016 Niagara Falls Moose Lodge presidential race.

Perhaps because he is Canadian and not subject to U.S. privacy laws, or possibly because he has an overactive imagination fueled by pure maple syrup, Hook claimed to have discovered information about me which — as a gift — he promised to keep quiet. However, because I believe in full disclosure, and because these were too funny to keep to myself, I have included his discoveries here, along with some explanations. Mostly because I don’t want Peter Dinklage kicking down my door.

I promise it will make sense later… Continue reading A gift from The Hook (or why I tell him I don’t celebrate Christmas)

I don’t really do the ‘award’ thing — unless it’s weird

imageI don’t normally do award things because, let’s face it: I’m an ungrateful jerk. Ok, maybe not. But I do kind of feel like one when I respectfully decline. It’s not that I don’t appreciate being recognized by fellow bloggers; it means a lot actually. It’s just that the rules that usually accompany these awards, including the mandatory passing along of the award to multiple bloggers, has a chain-letter feel to it that doesn’t sit right with me. However, I do make exceptions when 1) the blogger who nominates me is relatively new, therefore giving me a chance to send traffic their way, or 2) the award is a little weird. In the case of The Jolly Lobster Award bestowed on me by CeeLee at Swim In The Adult Pool, it’s both.

Shortly after my WordPress “new follower” cross lit up last week, I found my way to CeeLee. Ok, actually I attempted a cartwheel that ended in something resembling a twerk first. The point is, once I got to her site I was immediately impressed by her writing as well as her tenacity and spirit. Effectively dealing with adult ADHD means CeeLee has to approach her sometimes relentless creative spark in ways many of us would never think of attempting. Sort of like my “twerk-wheel” but with better results. Continue reading I don’t really do the ‘award’ thing — unless it’s weird

When it comes to maintaining my yard, the luck stops here

image It was the sweet, yet somehow guilt-ridden aroma of fresh-cut grass wafting from my neighbor’s yard that inspired me to uncover the mower and plot a course for adventure last weekend. Though I knew my decision would alter the course of an entire ecosystem that had evolved within our front yard over the past month, I had nothing but the best of intentions when I set out to cut the grass last on Saturday.

Keeping in mind Murphy’s Law says that anything that can go wrong will go wrong, those of you who experienced a problem-free day of activities on Saturday can thank me — because Mr. Murphy spent the day at my house.

Given the fact that any yard hazards (dog bones, garden hoses, hibachis, small bicycles, etc.) had long been swallowed by what appeared to be grass genetically altered to grow at the speed of light, there was no small amount of trepidation in my hands as I unscrewed the gas cap to check my fuel supply.

And, of course, the tank was empty. Continue reading When it comes to maintaining my yard, the luck stops here

My chance to do stand-up, except sitting down

Featured Image -- 4096I had the privilege of being asked to participate in an online comedy event. Now it’s too late for them to change their minds! I hope you’ll stop in and heckle me by throwing popcorn at your monitor. The Comedy Show will feature Jess Clackum, Rich Green, Jean Marc Toledano and Me on Sunday, March 30, 12:01 a.m. (PST) only at thepublicblogger.com.

On our newsroom door…

Our actual door Our newsroom has a door. But that’s not the point of this post. Over the years, this door has become more than just a way in or out, or something that occasionally gets “stuck” with our editor on the other side. It has also become a Mecca of sorts. A place where journalists since the 1970s have taped, glued and pasted headlines that are either badly written, clever or misspelled.

It is a beacon, really, harkening us into the jagged rocks.

Since I can’t afford to fly all of you here to see it, and because there are still many of you who did not receive the Mexican mocha I sent after my 100th post, I have nixed the idea of detaching the door and sending it to each of you to see for yourselves. Therefore, starting today, I’ll be coming to your homes or places of employment to show you my Door of Shame, Blame and Brilliance favorites. It will be just like having me standing there with my door. Except, you know — I’ll be doing it from here. Continue reading On our newsroom door…

Laughing at cows can be harmful, especially while playing bingo

Cow Patty bingo As you probably know, national “Be Kind to Animals Week” is almost here. And just when Florida was beginning to re-gain a small measure of respectability by working hard to draw absolutely no attention to itself, it is once again in the national spotlight.

I’m talking, of course, about the controversy surrounding Cow-Patty Bingo.

For those who might not be familiar with this activity for reasons of sanity, we’ll just take a moment to cover the basics.

First, you need a cow.

Second, you need a REALLY BIG bingo card.

OK, not really. But you really do need a cow, preferably one that has just eaten a lot of fiber — like, say, a 55-gallon drum of granola. Next, you need a large field or yard (such as a neighbor’s) that can be divided into numbered grids. Once you have the cow and the grid, it’s time to start selling squares. This requires finding people who think that poop is entertaining. If you know anyone who watched Jersey Shore, that would probably be a good place to start. Continue reading Laughing at cows can be harmful, especially while playing bingo