“I want a man who’s kind and understanding. Is that too much to ask of a millionaire?” Zsa Zsa Gabor
“My boyfriend gives our dogs their own voices,” one woman wrote on Reddit’s Ask Women the other day, describing the antics of her boyfriend who may have too much time on his hands. “It gets hilariously ridiculous sometimes,” the woman added, “but I love it.” No doubt the dogs love it, too, but barking only gets you so far in this world.
Another woman said her boyfriend’s turtle has its own Instagram account. Again, funny, charming — a bit strange…
“Beware of false prophets, which comes to you in sheep’s clothing, but inwardly they’re ravening wolves.” Mathew 7:15
Donald Trump isn’t particularly worried about this election. He should be, but he isn’t. He’s done the job he set out to do. There were glitches, and people saying he was a disaster, but so what? He never ran for office expecting to do anything. Like every politician in Washington with a keen sense of self preservation, the more you say, the less you have to accomplish.
Maybe he learned this from his mentor and fixer, Roy Cohn, the right hand to…
“I don’t regret anything.” Amy Winehouse
Kachru watched the people coming into the school auditorium. Most were retired couples wearing parkas and carrying coffee cups. A heavyset reporter was there from The Edmonton Examiner. He’d tried to interview Kachru coming through the doors earlier. Kachru had politely declined. A mistake, obviously. Now the reporter sat directly in front, feet out, sweaty hair.
Late that afternoon, Kachru had brought in his slide projector and screen. There was a remote of sorts on a long electrical cord. He’d taken off his sweaters, but still wore his Pashtun vest and Wellco boots. …
“They’ve got everything for you men to enjoy…” The Village People (YMCA)
President Donald Trump doesn’t pay much attention to lyrics. His favourite song “Is That All There Is?” sung by Peggy Lee, describes watching a house burn down and turning to drink. Why does Trump like it? “It’s a great song because I’ve had these tremendous successes,” he said. “And then I’m off to the next one.”
Missing a song’s point seems to be standard with this president. It’s like there’s a little man on one shoulder doing the “daddy dance.” On the other, he’s singing something else entirely…
“My cooking was so bad, my kids thought Thanksgiving was to commemorate Pearl Harbor.” Phyllis Diller
As history describes it, turkeys were first introduced to the Thanksgiving dinner table way back in the early 1600s. No record explains exactly why the Pilgrims chose turkey for this historic feast. They weren’t the plump and juicy turkeys we know today— in fact, they were embarrassingly skinny by comparison. Then again, so were cows and sheep.
No, the choice of wild turkey remains a bit of a conundrum, although it might have been because the Pilgrim’s guests were the Wampanoag tribe.
“Everybody’s talking at once in a hypnotic, hyper din: the cocktail party from hell.” Maureen Dowd
“Reading is 4 chumps, brotha,” Mew16 wrote on reddit, an opinion shared by many in the discussion group — and not just brothas. As one woman explained, “Maybe it was being forced to read for 12 years, and the whole thing associated with shitty teachers and shitty people and shitty memories.”
Whether “shitty” memories can account for not reading, or the content of books themselves, certainly there’s a turn-off rate. …
“If we listened to our intellect, we’d never have a love affair.” Ray Bradbury
Every Friday afternoon, Ross would leave his apartment key under a folder on his desk, and every Friday, at 5 o’clock, Sylvie, his secretary, would pick it up, grab a cab, and be waiting when Ross got home. The affair had been going on three months now. From the start, they both loved the intrigue, but sometimes Ross felt Sylvie loved it more than he did. She’d leave notes on his desk, maybe a sexy cartoon with “Us,” written across the top. …
“Getting old ain’t for sissies.” Bette Davis
I was surrounded by widows that summer. They were next door, across the street, everywhere I looked. Widows and more widows. I could see them pulling the curtains back, looking out when I came home. They were old and creatures of habit. They didn’t bother anybody.
I’d just moved into a bungalow on the street, one of those low-slung late 1930s jobs. The whole neighbourhood was the same, same concrete porches painted burgundy, same ramshackle garages at the back with sagging doors. It was quiet, anyway. That’s all that mattered to me.
“If you can’t be with the one you love, love the one you’re with.” Stephen Stills
I didn’t know what “plague porn” was until I saw it in an article the other day. “We’re basically relegated to plague porn and Cheetos until this stupid pandemic is over,” someone wrote, cleverly combining two staples found in the bedrooms of underaged boys. I was intrigued, mostly because I still like Cheetos and porn is porn, regardless of what adjective you stick in front of it.
To me, anything’s plague porn if it’s sexual these days. That’s if we’re even thinking about sex…
The advertising environment today is more geared to satisfying the client, most of whom have little experience in marketing.Being "safe" means more than being unique or thought-provoking. It takes too much energy to take things "upstairs," and that includes research. Nobody comes into research sessions wanting to think, so "safe" scores big. Forget risk. This isn't an industry of risk anymore. So we get what we get and plain advertising is the result. I mute every commercial now. I'm just not interested. I want to be intrigued but there's nothing intriguing. Even Super Bowl commercials are old concepts renewed. It's sad but the economy grows anyway. For that reason alone, nothing will change. There's no reason. We'll continue with dull.
I did a poor imitation of Don Draper for 40 years before writing my first novel. I'm currently in the final stages of a children's book. Lucky me.