the handbag on my back

OK, I couldn't wait until tommorrow for my first interesting quip. A couple of weeks ago when Doug, Mike and myself were in Chicago a couple of very funny things were said. First, shannon, his friend Adam and I were in an elevator at Target with a pretty girl. Adam was eating a bag of M&M's when one of them fell out, dropped to the floor, and rolled over near the girl. Both Adam and the girl quickly glanced at eachother as if to say "what do we do now?" The first thing out of Adam's mouth was "You don't have to eat that." I almost cried from laughter. No one else thinks it was as funny as I do. But think about, really think about it, and you will laugh as well.

Also, while were were walking about of the elevator after a long day of drinking, Doug noticed a new bag on Mike's back and asked "where did you get that handbag?" Mike replied with "What handbag?" "The one strapped to your back", replied Doug. "Oh, you mean my backpack?"

7-11 dog

I have always loved to write, but for some reason or another never find myself doing it outside of work. I think every writer ever interviewed talks about writing as their most important training. I know, it sounds obvious, but it really isn't. Many people, myself included, have aspirations of writing creatively. However, I have never thought of writing to find something to write about. I have always taken the position that I had to have something to write about before I sat down to write. I believe it is the opposite. The act of simply writing will bring out ideas. I have never been one to keep a diary or blog of my thoughts or feelings. I occasionally find the time or desire to write them down, but for the most part do not feel the need. I do, however, love to tell stories. I have heard, created, and otherwise been apart of many amazing stories in my day and often find myself later wishing I had written them down to memorialize them. I also believe the act of writing down my stories or interesting happenings will have the effect of making me a better writer. It is for that reason that I hereby pledge to take some time every day to either write about an interesting/funny/memorable event that has happened in my life or simply document my daily happenings. I know that I will be the only one who reads these, but that is enough for me. I want nothing more. See you tommorrow!

taco meat

So we were at an office lunch the other day at Pepper's grill (gross) and I was scanning the menu for something edible. I was looking at the description of the fajitas when I noticed that it gave two options. One could either choose chicken, or taco meat. Now, I am no worldly chef or zooligist, but I can tell you that taco's do not have meat. I sincerely hope, and suspect that they intended that to mean beef. It was still funny. We started discussing the various ways there are to hunt tacos, how rare they are to find around these parts, and how many different ways there are to prepare the luscious meat. Apparently, one of my co-workers even knows of a great taco sanctuary South of town that rescues abused taco's and nurses them back to health, so that they may be spared from the dinner table!

life saver?

How ironic would it be to be killed by a life saver? Perhaps by choking on one, or something similar? If that's not irony, I don't know what is...