Thursday, February 22, 2024

In Which We Writ Small


The recent chill and wet weather has conspired to make my nose run like it's being paid overtime.  It flows pretty much year round anyway, but lately it seems to have taken on a new urgency.  Anytime I bend my head even slightly it feels like the tide has decided to go out.  When I die, please tell them to list the cause of death as "drowned" instead of "crazy old man bullshit."

I got exactly as far in writing this post as the word "bullshit" above when I took a break.  I do that, I take lots of breaks.  Unfortunately, when I eventually wandered back into writing mode, I realized I had completely forgotten what I had planned to write about here.  Oops.  I am pretty sure, despite the lead paragraph, that I was not going to focus on my mucus. Also, in journalism school, they taught us to spell the first paragraph of a story as "lede." I have no idea why.

Considering how short these posts are, it's sort of amazing how long it takes me to scratch them out.  But that's always how my creative process (if you could call it that) has worked.  At my job, when I would write a press release (a chore that popped up on the regular because, well, it was my job) I always had to allot sufficient time for wandering around the office while wrestling with synonyms for "small business" even though early on I did discover how to spell the word "entrepreneur." 

I would saunter away from my desk and make laps around the office thinking press release thoughts.  I have no idea what my coworkers made of this, but I didn't like most of them anyway.  A big part of my rambles involved avoiding the jerks and checking in on my friends.  I always got the releases out on time and I got in some exercise.  It was a win-win all around.

Now that I have retired and am a free man, my writing is still kind of peripatetic, but now I can take 4 days to write 4 paragraphs and I don't have to worry about my erratic punctuation and spelling, all of which suits me just fine. But no matter how casual I am about a deadline, or lack thereof, I still really need to have a topic even if it is how I absolutely do not have one.

Guys worth writing about:

Christian Power, which has to be one of the more amusing nom de smut I have run into.

Surfer dudes, always a welcome sight in mrpeenee's universe.

Once again, I'm pretty sure I knew this guy's name at one point, but it eludes me now.

Winter has been unusually mild, even by San Francisco standards.  I have not worn a sweater all winter.

Beefy, with extra big feet for you freaks.

Everybody likes breakfast.


  1. It took Victor Hugo 12 long years to finish working on 'Les Misérables'. I don’t know if he was a government worker or not.

    My husband worked at social security. He told me all about the people who did nothing. One guy spent every day dealing with the stock club’s portfolio. Another came in on Saturdays to catch up on everything he didn’t do during the week to get overtime.

    1. My husband also worked for social security. He escaped into prosecuting medicare fraud and never looked back.

  2. No, you don't have to worry so much about your spelling and punctuation now. We have something called "autocorrect" (when it works right). I would worry about that last model. His spray tan looks like brown shoe polish and what is he getting injected with - and why through a cherry?

  3. There is certainly a lot going on in that last photo.

  4. I'm not a great lover of cherries or chemsex.

    1. I love cherries, but only the fresh kind. Cherry toppings and fillings taste so fake, the make my tongue curl. I have no opinions on chemsex.


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