Tuesday, December 16, 2008


I had a class from a local college coming in to our office this evening for a presentation by an organization we fund. The Dog et Pony show was scheduled to start at 6:00, coincidentally, the same time I was supposed to head home. I had a bad feeling when the speaker was late and then really late, so I waited around and sure enough, no show. I asked the teacher, who was getting increasingly freaked out, what the speaker was supposed to cover. She said it was going to be "How to Start a Business" something I could speak on in a coma. In fact, I might have done just that. For a cowardly moment, I considered slinking off into the night, I had already stayed late here last night and it's cold and rainy and I just wanted to go home, dammit. Instead, I said I'd be glad to cover for him, the lousy little no-nuts chicken rimmer. Hit it, boys!

An hour's presentation, with no notes, no preparation, no idea what the fuck I was saying. Am I a pro, or what? I am also a grubby pro who didn't shave this morning and wore an old sweatshirt. I look more like I should be asking for spare change than giving advice on entrepreneurship. This should teach me, but I'm sure it won't.


  1. I’m sorry I wasn’t paying attention during the second half of your presentation. Did you say, “I needed to have venture capital and a solid beeswax plan for my venture into the business of beeswax?” I’m confused.

  2. "Something WRONG with strippin'?!"

    I'm not sure this GYPSY quote is appropriate but I'm venturing you were electrifyin' without even tryin'...

    bada bing!

  3. I'm sure you chose a rousing opening number, a sentimental finale, and left them teary-eyed and wanting more.


In Which We're Calling It In

In the middle of an unnecessarily annoying and complicated day last week, my phone decided to commit suicide. I was Ubering along playing Ya...