What happens when you blog too much
I may need counseling. Last night I dreamed I was ordering a sandwich at a takeout place, and Neil Goldschmidt was behind the counter making them. He was really laying on the spinach. I tried to avoid eye contact.
| Posted at 3:48 PM | Permalink |
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Comments (7)
As far as therapists go, Don Cohen is very good: 503-238-5557
Posted by Matt Davis | March 15, 2009 5:33 PM
I'd bet Neil hasn't made anything with his own two hands (except happy endings) since he was a teenager.
I've found that a little Jameson http://www.jamesonwhiskey.com/ on ice (or Jenna on DVD) makes blogging a distant memory.
Posted by Mister Tee | March 15, 2009 5:58 PM
Ahh, blogging about blogging too much.
Reminds me of when I was wondering if I should quit the music business and my response was to write a song about it.
The band had been chewed up by all manner of calamity and it crossed my mind that things had shifted from a holding pattern to a downward spiral. And I feared we were about to go into a free fall.
I can only remember 2 lines of the song:
"It's your only life and you could lose it, don't you think it's time to face the music?"
Posted by Bill McDonald | March 15, 2009 5:58 PM
Speaking of Neil. . .
He was at the World Cup Coffee next to Powell's in Beaverton Friday morning. Drinking it, not making it.
He's put on quite a bit of weight.
Posted by Mike (I forgot which one) | March 15, 2009 7:35 PM
oh no,,,,,
now I know why I use commas like this
http://www.blogcomics.net/too-much-blogging-tumor/2008/04/01/
Posted by Ben | March 15, 2009 9:06 PM
(Thanks for reminding me of my Faux Paw.)
Goldie was mayor, me and girlie friend went into Roses on then 23rd? To get stuffed with a LS Supreme ummmm. Soon as we walk in the door Goldie was walking out. Our eyes locked, him looking for recognition and me recognizing a celeb. I said "hey hello mr. Goldschmidt" I reached out my paw and strangled his weak sweaty, girly hand. "Nice to meet you" Of course being a punk kid I stopped there and didn't introduce my girl or try to engage any further as well he was somebody and I was well you know.
Years later when the facts came to light regarding his (as the O says "affair") I say rape of that underage girl. I felt myself drawn to the basement. Picking up the extra sharp hatchet I thought about hacking off that tainted paw but no guts. I contracted "OCD" thereafter,I washed that hand for weeks and it just wouldn't come clean. Haven't been able to eat sandwiches either.
Posted by Ima Idiot | March 16, 2009 7:42 PM
Was Billy Cody, back there under the counter?
Posted by Dean Gadda | March 18, 2009 12:42 PM