Here it is, your Moment of Zen.
Monthly Archive for March, 2007
Page 2 of 2
Are you ready for The Empire of Dot? A Blogsplosion of Dot? A Blogosphere filled with Dotisms?
Well, this is your lucky day!
Sit down, because you are going to be BLOWN AWAY by this announcement.
I am now Contributing Blogger on The Blog Blog, a blog about blogs.
[Insert Collective Gasp]
Please visit, and visit often (right after you visit this, of course).
Because one Dot is not enough.
P/S And for those who think my Avatarâ€â€big new word I learned that means this logo of meâ€â€is foxy, create your own South Park likeness here.
Listen very carefully. I will say this only once.
[All you 'allo 'allo fans, that was for you! All you others, er, just go to Line 3, okay?]
The secret to Life, Love, and All Those Pesky Questions is…
THE SECRET!
If you are one of the minions who will read only what Oprah The Gadzillionaire tells you to, then yes, you probably have bought Rhonda Byrne’s The Secret (or at least are waitlisted at the nearest Borders) and are well on your way to happiness, wealth, and all that jazz.
Whoopeedoodaa.
I hate to break it to you, but er, I could have told you THE SECRET without you doing that irritating thing of actually reading the gawddamn book. (Which, by the way, is just 200 pages of “Positive Thinking.”)
You want to know?
Do you?
Do you?
thesecrettoachievingallyourdreamsisto Quit Having People Tell You What To Do AND MAKE UP YOUR GAWDDAMN MIND YOURSELF.
I have no patience for gurus, especially ones who make money stating the obvious, and spinning the obvious.
If she’s a guru. I’m a guru.
And I am going to give you THE SECRET to Life. Ready?
Breathe in.
Breathe out.
Breathe in.
Breathe out.
The end.
You meet a lot of crazies on the street.
This is a city.
Crazy happens.
People ask for money in all guises. Spare change? Need money for the bus. Got a quarter?
Seven years ago, I’d have emptied my pockets. These days, my standard answer is “Sorry!”
Today, when a man approached me muttering something, my automatic “Sorry” response kicked in and I turned away.
He looked even more upset and replied, “Can you just talk to me, please?”
“What?”
“Where is the bank?” he said. “I’m trying to find the bank!”
I stopped and looked at him carefully.
“Oh. One block up and turn right. Sorry!”
And I meant it this time, too.
Repeat after me.
“I, [insert name], declare that I will never stand upwind, less than two feet from my fellow human being, and release gaseous matter from the lower half of my body. Because I care. Because I had asparagus for lunch.”
There.
Make sure you say that out loud. Don’t forget to enunciate.
Especially YOU! Yes, you!
Unknown man, a.k.a. Unidentified Farting Organism, at James and 3rd at 5:10 pm on Tuesday night. YOU!
Because your fellow human beings are not settling for anything less.
Than a two-feet radius from that bomb you set off.
When Andy Warhol is the name of a drink at The Hideout, a place you’ve unwittingly stumbled into after previously ingesting a beer and two other cocktails (one with an edible flower, I might add), you are going to need photographic evidence to remember the Night of the Four Cocktails and a Beer.
And luckily for you, an Andy Warhol does just that.
(It’s actually a Cosmopolitan that is served with a Polariod picture of just how drunk you are.)
Uh-huh.
Art imitating Life imitating Art?
Whatever it is/was, this much is true.
One, there is a CREEPY LADY PAINTING in the photo with Jay!
Two, I don’t know who that guy beside me is. I was just ordering my second Andy Warhol at the bar. That’s my Cosmopolitan in the image, I think. I, er, also think I dribbled on the Polariod.
Three, you have no idea how drunk I was.
No idea.
That this is an ad tells you two things about Seattle.
It is cold. (Ice wasn’t melting, as of 8 am in the morning!)
We like our coffee. (Except Dot, who prefers the other caffeine delivery system.)
I’m not sure if people waited by the blocks to claim their free tumbler, orâ€â€this is the more likely outcomeâ€â€the ice eventually melted, people slipped on the puddles, and promptly sued the Golden Arches.
“It’s not the size of your donut, but what you do with it that counts.”â€â€Dot, 2007
Steady, faithful readers, steady…
Don’t sell your first born to catch a flight to Seattle.
I know this looks like a Giant Donutâ€â€AND IT IS A GIANT DONUT!â€â€but I want you to remain calm.
I know it looks like it is the width of two namecardsâ€â€AT THE VERY LEAST!â€â€but I want you to back off.
I know you know I love donutsâ€â€KRISPY KREME WAS MY WEDDING CAKE!â€â€but believe it or not, I did not purchase this Big Daddy.
Why?
Erm, I already had half a dozen mini-donuts before I saw this.
Dammit.
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