good things come to those who wait

On the way to baseball last night, Logan (6) had apparently given it a lot of thought, and needed to have a very serious conversation with me regarding his future.  He wanted to let me know that upon lengthy consideration, he no longer wanted to grow up to be an architect, but a dancer…at the Superbowl.

We arrived at the field, and I sat in my low-rider white-trash folding beach chair, when suddenly a 10 week old golden retriever puppy came bouncing up into my lap and bit me square on my vagina.  I have needle like puppy teeth bruising to prove it.

I could not make this shit up.

I started working on a blog last night, and the writing was flowing out like emotional lava.  I was maniacally laughing and typing and tears were running down my face, and I quickly realized what was happening.  This is no blog.  This is a full on short story/book in the making.  It is just too good to cut short and throw it up here just for the sake of posting something.  I like to try to post something every day, but I cannot blow my load on this.  You will thank me later.  I’ve wanted to write this for a very, very long time, but I was busy drinking.

Anyway, the time has come, and with any luck I will be able to post the first segment tonight or tomorrow.  My goal for this piece is to get it written, and post segments of it daily like chapters.  It is freaking long, it is unbelievably hilarious, and you may think I’m full of shit when you read it, but I swear to you, it is pure non fiction.  Consider the fact that it took me 1263 words to write about walking into a plate glass window.  Then look at some of the elements I’m dealing with:

For those of you that know me, you may be familiar with the story.  “Tracy And Paul Move To Florida” circa 1990.  Amongst about 900 other things, it involves a refrigerated truck, “Pedro Says This Trip Is Going To Be 3500 Miles!”  rabid dogs, and armed robbery.  Piqued your interest?  You have no idea…

So with that I am going to get at it.  While I’m working away over here, I have a question for you readers that I could use your help on.

In order to write a good query letter to publishers, it is recommended that I describe my writing style…this is what I have come up with, and I would greatly appreciate any feedback or suggestions:

“If Chelsea Handler and Jenny McCarthy were lesbians and wanted to have a baby, and then got semen from David Sedaris, and then had Augusten Burroughs raise it, I would be that fucked up baby.”

Categories: True Stories

Tagged as: , , , , , ,

10 replies

  1. You wrote “piqued” instead of, as so many people do, “peaked” or “peeked.” That, plus it’s very funny and intriguing, of course. (Jake Nodar sent me, btw.)

    I love you. I’m in.

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