As a tireless historian of my own antics I’ve decided to start a new blog column called My New Thing wherein I document my various activities as one would a toddler’s. So for example:
My New Thing: Waking up really early and moving to the couch and falling asleep there for a few hours.
My Old Thing: Frottage
In other news, this new hand lotion I’m using smells kind of like a diaper. Perhaps one day soon smelling like a diaper can be my new thing?
And in other other news, I have an audition tomorrow morning for something I really hope I get unless the casting director is reading this in which case, hey, no big deal, easy come easy go. Unless a more passionate attitude is in order in which case I’d totally trade my left diaper hand for this role. Or something.
And in other other other news, I’d like to tell you all about what happened when I blew my nose this morning however even I am going to draw the line at snot. (Drawing the line at snot is my new thing.)
And in other other other other news, I didn’t make it to Dustin’s pig roast yesterday because I’m a bad friend who cannot shake the lingering effects of this swine flu and I didn’t want to get reinfected by the guest of honor (the pig, not Dustin). I’m thinking of changing my email signature to, “Just so you know, eventually I’m going to disappoint you.” What do you think? Catchy, right?
In other other other other other news, I’m flying to CA tomorrow after the audition.
In other other other other other other news, I wrote a tweet wherein I said “Newtons, go fig or go home” which was really just because I wanted to make the pun. I later came clean regarding my fundamental okayness with various Newton flavors. Then I started thinking of more puns:
Sausage? Go pig or go home.
Archeology? Go dig or go home.
Stage lights? Go Klieg or go home.
Sticks? Go twig or go home.
Irish dancing? Go jig or go home.
I think you can see where that’s going.
