WWRBD: What Would Ron Burgundy Do?
I know what you’re thinking:
Yes, I have a nickname for my penis. It’s called The Octagon. But I’ve nicknamed my testes as well: my left one is James Westfall and my right one is Dr. Kenneth Noisewater. You ladies play your cards right, you just might get to meet the whole gang.
No, I didn’t copy and paste that from imdb – I’ve got it memorized. And no, I haven’t found a situation in which that works for anything but a few (nervous) laughs.
I think my dad is reading this right now. Hi dad, I turned out ok. Please don’t enter “my oedipus complex” into the search bar.
So tonight I’ll be heading to the Moving Energy Dance Party With Live Music! at Peaceful Yoga in Franklin Lakes, NJ. My friend Anna invited me earlier this week and I’m psyched. My first thought was that I’d be balancing my chakras in the back of the room with one foot against the wall, trying to look chill and mildly interested. Then Anna explained that there’ll be an instructor there, well, instructing us. It’s much easier for me to take direction and concentrate on what I’m doing in yoga class than to try to figure out whether I look cool or not. To the point of looking cool, though: whatever does one wear to such an event?
Here’s the description, in case you didn’t want to click the link above:
“This is the Moving Energy experience that you have been waiting for… a joyful and liberating yoga-inspired movement class with a live band! We will move through the 7 energy centers called chakras from the earth to the heavens. This powerful workshop is energetic and fun as well as profound and sacred.”
A Few Words of Thanks
Thank you, Sabrina, for your most excellent feedback yesterday. I will incorporate your suggestions into my blogging style. And I will try to read more Hemingway. That means, dear readers, fewer run-ons and more short, declarative sentences. I will not, however, attempt to be “laconic”. I don’t care what the effin dictionary says the definition is, I don’t like the sound of the word. It reminds me too much of lethargic. Instead, I will attempt to be succinct and maybe even terse sometimes. And no, I don’t own a thesaurus. That’s all brain-pan, baby.
In all seriousness, though: thank you Sabrina for your other feedback as regards those matters of which we spoke pertaining to and touching upon the heart. Mine, specifically. As I said in our conversation, I appreciate your objective opinion and rationality. You reinforced just the right thoughts and discouraged well the wrong ones. And yes, dear reader, Sabrina was blessed with two X chromosomes. And no, dear reader, this is not just me plugging Sabrina‘s blog, this is me thanking a friend. You can tweet Sabrina here.
Interesting bits I’ve found in my Twittering:
- fxxxmylife: as of the date of this post, 10,240 followers, 0 following, 677 updates. And effin hi-larious tweets. Did I mention that this person is not following anybody?
- Sheamus: Sheamus Bennett, originator of Twittercism and generally a very polite guy. See yesterday’s post.
- MrTweet: Twitter stats, suggestions for friends, recommendations and other cool stuff.
And, In Other News:
I’m wondering if anybody can point me in the right direction of the story of Raphael and the perfect circle. My remembrance of it is as follows:
Raphael (as in Santi, the artist, not the teenage mutant ninja turtle – and shame on you if that was your first thought – that’s at least a 3 Hail Mary offense) went to the king to apply for an artist gig. Lots of other artists were applying and they all had their artistic resumes and things to show the king. When Raphael’s turn in line came, the king said “WTF kid? What’d you bring to show me you’re a decent artist?” Raphael replied by asking the king for a piece of paper and something with which to draw. One of the lowlies brought him a piece of paper and a pencil and Raphael drew a circle. The king was all “WTF” again, ready to have Raphael thrown in the dungeon for being such an arrogant prick and playing a joke on the king. Raphael calmly explained to the king that the circle he had just drawn (freehand, mind you) was perfect. At this point, the king got really pissed and told Raphael (loudly, and in front of the whole court, obviously) that if the circle wasn’t perfect, it was “off with your head” – even though the king was a dude. Raphael nodded calmly and said he understood. All the king’s horses and all the king’s men could not prove that the circle Raphael had just drawn wasn’t perfect (because it was). And they used compasses and everything.
Raphael got the gig.
I really want to say it was for that fancy set of doors he did, but I don’t remember.
So does this ring a bell for anyone? C’mon, help a brother out: email me QuixoticJedi[at]gmail[dot]com if you’ve heard this one and have a decent reference.