Humor

My exclusive interview with Trump

 

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Last week, I sat down with the Republican Party nominee at the local Starbucks. After knocking back a couple Frappuccinos and ten scones, I was ready to hammer him with the tough questions.

Me: Mr. Trump — may I call you Mr. Trump? Or do you prefer just Trump or The Donald or…?

Trump: I prefer Supreme Ruler of the Universe.

Me: Mmkay. So…I think we’re all dying to know…what the frig? I mean, dude! Seriously?

Trump: I have no idea what you mean by that question.

Me: Really? No idea?

Trump: Look, let’s get down to brass tacks here. Obama is ISIS. He really is.

Me: (scoffs)

Trump: I’m tellin’ you, he created it.

Me: Uh….

Trump: There’s no doubt. My sources also tell me he’s the man responsible for Deflategate, Zima, and Carrot Top.

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Me: You can’t really believe–

Trump: Okay, about what I just said. It’s called (enunciates slowly) SARCASM.

Me: Oh, so you were kidding? About which part?

Trump: No, I wasn’t kidding. It’s all true. When I said it was sarcasm, I was being sarcastic. Here’s the thing, and pay careful attention to what I’m about to say.

Me: Okay.

Trump: Obama’s a vegetarian.

Me: (blank stare)

Trump: Probably a vegan, for all we know.

Me: And how does that–

Trump: Obama’s an alien. Sent from the planet Floopzork to destroy all humanity. It’s true and I have solid proof, but anyway.

Me: Okay, I get the feeling you’re trying to sabotage your own campaign. Thoughts?

Trump: Look — this country is in crisis. We need to make it great again. Starting with banning all people who watch The Bachelor. They’re all despicable, they really are. And I’ll tell you something else, Michael Jackson is still alive and well and living in a bunker underground at Disney World. I think he’s also behind ISIS, I don’t know.

Me: So–

Trump: And by the way, Disney is the main recruiter of terrorists. I mean, did you ever really look into the eyes of Goofy? Really look? If you did, I’d think you’d see pure evil staring back at you, but whatever.

Me: Are you saying these things because you didn’t think you’d actually get this far? Did you wake up one night in a cold sweat and think, Holy shit, what the hell am I doing? So now you secretly want to lose in a landslide to Clinton?

Trump: Hillary should be put in a rocket and blasted to the moon. I mean, we have the technology. Let’s put Carrot Top in there with her.

Me: But…

Trump: Y’know, some of our top scientists say that the moon is really made of cheese. Camembert.

Me: ……

Trump: And we should ban all Canadians from entering the United States. I mean, can you really trust a country that gave the world Justin Bieber?

Me: Well….

Trump: Y’know…sometimes when I’m all alone and it’s quiet… I talk to my pet monkey, Mr. Pickles. He tells me the secrets of the universe. He also thinks the moon is made of cheese, but not Camembert — Colby-Jack.

Me: Clearly you’re panicking now at this stage. People are left to speculate if you’re brilliant, insane, or a jackass. Or a combination of all three, but mostly jackass. Is this your strategy to exit the race?

Trump: Lemme tell you something, okay? Aliens are already here on this planet, right now. Oprah’s one. And I’m pretty sure Hillary is too, I don’t know. Her eyes are all wonky. Lock her up before she starts zapping all our brains, know what I’m sayin’?

Me: No, I don’t.

Trump: (whispers) Shh! They’ll hear us! Here, put this on! (hands me a pair of underwear) Put it on your head! Their signals won’t be able to penetrate!

Me: Uh…

Trump: I’ll try giving them a subliminal message that we mean no harm.

Me: Okay, I think we’re done here!

Trump: (wearing underwear on head) Meep! Beep! Meep-borp-blarp!

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There you have it, folks, my interview with Trump.

And I know what you’re thinking — he has an excellent chance of winning, doesn’t he?

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blogger of the month

Firsts and Lasts with The Good Greatsby

Have you ever wondered who invented dessert? Or who was Brad Pitt’s body double in Thelma and Louise? Or pondered why Paul McCartney decided to abandon all sense of musical taste and write the song Wonderful Christmastime“?

Well, all these answers and more can be found by visiting the hilarious blog,
The Good Greatsby.

the-good-greatsby

If you’ve been searching for a blogger who’s always witty and entertaining, then Paul is your man. If you’ve been searching for someone to give all your extra cash to — Paul is definitely your man. (He’ll also accept gift cards but please, no personal checks.)

He’s been Freshly Pressed numerous times, he’s a WordPress Recommended Humor blogger and he’s a humor blogger for The Huffington Post.

I know. I’ll have what he’s having. My guess is that’s not really tobacco in his pipe.

67d4fbb9393c077fa9d40657ff176cafHe tackles political satire with ease, Obama Reels in Big, Bigger, Biggest Fish, explains why you should never invite him to your party, Thank You for Inviting Me to the Party. I Apologize for My Behavior at the Party, and occasionally waxes poetic while writing about his favorite celebrity obsession, Vin Diesel, When I Become Famous: The First 24 Hours, although his heart really belongs to Zooey Deschanel, Friday Love Letters.

So what makes Greatsby tick? Who is the man behind that snazzy smoking jacket? Will I be able to sufficiently poke fun at him with my crafty PowerPoint slides? Let’s find out!

FIRST

Blog Post:

Tough Childhood

Love:

I’m not definite I’ve ever been in love. I used to think I fell in love a lot but I once described love to a doctor and he said what I was experiencing was remarkably similar to the symptoms of car sickness. He suggested I stop taking first dates on high-speed drives through winding canyons, and after following his advice I never fell in love again. I also used to think women fell in love with me a lot, but it turns out they were just frightened to death at my driving, and that their trembling hands, wide eyes, pale faces and shrieks were more likely symptoms of terror and not love. Love is complicated.

Childhood Memory:

For some reason I don’t remember the exact moment of being born, but I do remember my parents arguing with the hospital staff about the bill and thinking, Uh-oh, Mom and Dad are cheap. Looks like I’ll be going to a state college.

Why, Mommy and Daddy? WHYYYYY?
Why, Mommy and Daddy? WHYYYYY?

Moment I met my significant other:

I was sitting on a bus with a bag of groceries on my lap. The bag broke and an avocado rolled down the aisle until finally resting against a woman’s black high heel. Prada. Spring collection. The woman reached down to pick up the avocado and when she turned back to look at me I found myself locking eyes with the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. I stood and slowly made my way across the bus, never breaking eye contact. I put out my hand. “I believe you have my avocado.” She smiled, raised the avocado up to her face, gave it a squeeze and said, “You’ve picked a ripe one.” As if on cue the bus jerked to the side, and in one smooth motion she fell into my arms, my lips brushed her ear, and I whispered, “I always pick the ripest produce.” She shivered. And then she shivered again. And then I realized it was actually my cell phone vibrating. Embarrassed, I turned my back as I took the call, which was my brother asking if he could set me up with his wife’s cousin. That wife’s cousin turned out to be my future wife and I first met her the following Friday after I pulled up in my car and she came out the front door of her grandparents’ house.

Possession I would take my house were on fire:

The vortex invasion pod in my basement, because the aliens were very clear that the vortex invasion pod should never catch on fire or the universe would implode. Also that it shouldn’t get wet. Also that I should stop hanging laundry on it.

Job I had:

Loose change collector. Every day, starting when I was about five, I would search under couch cushions or in the pockets of coats hanging in the closet or under the seat of my dad’s car. The pay wasn’t great, the benefits were non-existent, but the hours were flexible.

Time I got pulled over by a cop:

I’ve only been pulled over once. The police officer said I’d entered the turning lane too early, but my very reasonable explanation fell on deaf ears. I grew suspicious of his motives when he saw my driver’s license and failed to compliment my photo. And that’s when I realized what I was up against: handsomeness discrimination. Sometimes cops see a handsome man passing and think, That looks like a guy who needs to be taken down a notch. This is why I gave up driving, because I wasn’t willing to give up being handsome.

A still-handsome Greatsby's  new mode of ultra-groovy transportation.
A still-handsome Greatsby’s new mode of ultra-groovy transportation.

Thing I think God will say to me at the pearly gates:

“Don’t tell me who won the Super Bowl. I’ve got it on DVR but I’ve been absolutely swamped. Also, why is Kim Kardashian famous?”

LAST

Blog Post: When I Was a Kid, Things Were Tough

Thing I cooked:

Pad Thai. I make this pretty regularly and it’s usually good, but I tried something new and the result was too spicy. As we sat down for dinner and our eyes watered and throats burned, I told my sons if they learn one lesson from this meal it’s that you should never, ever try anything new in life. Find a bunch of comfortable behaviors, ideas, and habits at a young age and spend the rest of your life angrily refusing to see life from any other perspective.

Movie I saw:

Doctor Zhivago—the 2002 British edition with Keira Knightley. You should see this. But not with anyone who hates Keira Knightley. Why do so many women dislike Keira Knightley?

(editor's note: I think it's her hat. No...on second thought, it's everything else about her.)
(editor’s note: I think it’s her hat. No…on second thought, it’s everything else about her.)

Song I listened to:

We Are the People by Empire of the Sun. I’ve heard this song hundreds of times just this year. You could walk up to me at any moment and ask what was the last song I listened to and there’s a good chance the last song was We Are the People.

Book I read:

Carry On, Jeeves by P.G. Wodehouse

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Reality TV show I watched:

We don’t get American TV here in China so I don’t have regular access to reality shows. But a friend’s laptop was stolen from his apartment and he asked me to translate as he spoke to the security guards, and when we viewed the CCTV footage of the previous 24 hours and all the comings and goings of his apartment complex, and watched most of it in fast forward, it was the most compelling reality show I’d ever seen. Seriously. I’d watch that show again.

Person I kissed:

This answer has changed so many times in the last couple weeks. I kept putting off finishing this interview until the last person I kissed was really impressive. Unfortunately the only celebrity I met in the past few weeks was Joe Montana, and although he was definitely giving me signals, the timing never felt quite right.

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Time I cried:

At the end of Doctor Zhivago—the 2002 British edition with Keira Knightley. If you didn’t cry, what’s wrong with you?

Time I laughed hysterically:

Yesterday. I was doing a voice recording for a hospitality training manual. The script made multiple references to “duties” and “the duties of a duty manager” and that “the duty manager has to be attentive to his employees’ duties.” I know it’s juvenile but I giggled like a schoolgirl. I never giggle. I hate to even write the word giggle. But I giggled every single time.

Time I told a little white lie:

Once I gave away the children’s puppy. I was taking him for a walk and a man stopped his bike and said, “I like your puppy.” And I said, “Take him. He’s yours,” and placed Mr. Lunch in the bike basket. When I returned home I told my sons that Mr. Lunch was on vacation. Almost nine years later and they still look out the window and ask when Mr. Lunch will be back from vacation. Hilarious.

Time I swore like a sailor:

A couple days ago when I argued with my cell phone provider. International coverage in my plan had somehow expired without my knowledge and I was charged about $200 for 3 calls to the US at a rate of about $1.75 a minute. The conversation was in Chinese but the swear words were in English. (Note: Initially I misread the question as “Time I swore at a sailor”. That would be a great question. A lot of my favorite comedy ideas come from misreading things.)

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Good deed I did:

I flirt with a lot of married women right in front of their husbands. This might not seem like charity in the biblical sense, but when your husband sees me write my number on your hand, his jealousy is going to make him treat you right for at least two weeks. You’re welcome. (And don’t worry, I didn’t write my real number. It’s the number of a marriage counselor. I get a small referral commission.)

Indulgence:

I bought myself really expensive skinny jeans, so skinny they couldn’t even be seen with the naked eye.

******

Thanks for playing along, Greatsby! The 50 cent coupon for a single serving size of Totino’s Party Pizza is in the mail. (unless it gets “lost” on the way to China)

blogger of the month

Firsts and Lasts with Steve from The Brown Road Chronicles

How often do you come across a blogger who not only is a fantastic storyteller but sings and plays a mean guitar?

farmerSteve’s blog, Brown Road Chronicles, is about country living, old houses, dirt roads, raising kids and a couple lively goats named Holly and Ella.

I adore his writing style, which was highlighted on Freshly Pressed with the fantastic post, Old Barn Coat.  He also writes funny children’s poems, song lyrics and occasionally rants about WordPress and BOOBs. And he recently created a super hot all-male blogger calendar you must check out. It’s all good clean fun.

Before you enjoy his interview, take a listen to one of his songs, Mamas, Don’t Let Your Babies Grow Up to Be Bloggers — the man needs a recording contract!

Now let’s delve into what makes him tick. Please, give a warm welcome to

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Steve from The Brown Road Chronicles

FIRST:

Blog Post:

Diary of a Flat Tire: How I got to Keep my Man Card for Another Day

This was a funny story that happened to me back in September 2009. I didn’t have a blog at the time but I wanted to remember the situation so I wrote it down. It eventually became the first post on my blog. I didn’t write again until almost a year later in August of 2010, when Brown Road Chronicles was really born and my normal, stable life pretty much ended.

Kiss:

My dog Tiger used to kiss me a lot. Ohhhh… wait… you mean, like a real kiss? I believe it was my high school girlfriend, I don’t remember anything before that unless I’ve just forgotten. I’ve only had two really serious women in my life, my high school girlfriend and my awesome wife Kim who I met in college. Well… there was this totally smokin’ hot girl in like first grade, named Brandy, that I used to really like. But I don’t think I ever got to kiss her. She probably didn’t even know who I was. She’s probably a stripper now.

Love:

Brandy from first grade who’s probably a stripper now. Seriously though, who really knows what love is? Insert Foreigner voice: “I wanna know what love is… I want you to show me!” I honestly believe there is only one person for each of us. I’ve found mine.

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Childhood Memory:

I remember fighting my way out of my Mom’s vagina through all this blood and gore, thinking “oh my god, what the fuck is going on here?!?” Then this guy all dressed in white grabs me and wipes me off and I’m like “dudes, what the hell just happened? I think I need a beer!”

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Moment I met my significant other:

Kim and I met at a Toga Party at Colby College in Waterville, Maine. It was very romantic and sophisticated and Greek.

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You can read about it here:
How I Met Your Mother

Possession I would take if my house were on fire:

Seriously, if your house is on fire are you going to stand there for even a few seconds and think about what the hell to take out of there? Dude, get out of the house! Everyone always says they would grab photos. Honestly though, I would have one thing on my mind, getting my family first, then pets if possible, to a safe place. I probably wouldn’t even think about what else to grab.

Job I had:

Other than mowing my neighbor’s lawn, the first real job I had was working for a guy that owned a landscaping business and operated out of my neighborhood where I grew up on Long Island. We cut grass and did landscaping for commercial and residential accounts. I started working for him after my senior year of high school, then during the summers while in college. It was very hard work, but was a good gig. He often paid us in cash, we got sweet tans and could let our hair grow long and we could swear and naively believe that all the chicks thought we were the hottest, shirtless guys in the world, even though we had long hair and smelled like gasoline and rotten grass. Sometimes I miss those days!

Time I got pulled over by a cop:

When we first moved to Michigan, when I was about 24, I got pulled over on the college campus I was working nearby going about 40 in a 25. I’m thinking, “Seriously, don’t you have anything better to do, like arrest some drunken college students that are lighting their couch on fire?” She gave me a ticket for 10 over. I ended up getting to know her pretty well over the years and always wondered if she remembered writing that ticket.

Thing I think God will say to me at the pearly gates:

I don’t believe in God and all that afterlife stuff. Sorry, I guess you’d call me an Atheist, even though that term has wrongly become synonymous with “Evil, Satan Worshipping, Goat Sacrificing Heathen”. But really, if you don’t believe in God you certainly don’t believe in Satan and y’all know I’d never sacrifice one of my goats!

I believe when I die I will either become ashes or be put into a hole in the ground. That’s all folks! Although these days, cremation seems to be the trending way to dispose of oneself, I think I want a gravestone, so that little kids can do crayon rubbings on it and wonder what was so special about the “Author of The Brown Road Chronicles.”

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LAST:

Blog Post:

Well chances are it will be my Song “The Grass is Always Greener” because I haven’t written anything in weeks. But really how the hell should I know? You see, Darla made me send her these answers in advance… something about “needing time to do a whole bunch of PowerPoint slides where I poke fun at you” and “if you don’t get your answers to me in a timely fashion I am going to send Kathy Bates to break your legs.”

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Thing I cooked:

Chicken on the grill. So, here’s a question… when you go out to your grill and pick up that brush scraper tool that we all have and start scraping and brushing all that old crap of the grates of the grill… do you ever think that’s what a Dental Hygienist feels like? Sometimes I stare down at the grill and scold and denigrate it for not flossing enough.

Movie I saw:

I don’t really remember but there were a lot of XXX’s and Oh, Oh, Oh’s in it. Must have had something to do with football.

Song I listened to:

Probably a Jackson Browne song, he’s my favorite artist. Even though I enjoy his quieter, more reflective songs, lately I have been listening to “Boulevard” a lot. I’m in sales, so I’m in my car a lot. When I find myself getting sleepy while driving, I’ll put that song on at full volume so the speakers shake. One of the greatest (yet most under-recognized) guitar riffs to begin a rock song!

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Book I read:

Oh shit, now I have to admit how infrequently I actually read books. The last book I read was The Hunger Games, which honestly was a pretty good book. My family told me I needed to read it before the film came out. So I voraciously devoured it like an Honors English Student cramming down some “To Kill a Mockingbird” or “Catcher in the Rye” for a mid-term. Not that I’m comparing it to those books, to all you literary snobs that were thinking of reprimanding me in the comments. I think the last book I read before Hunger Games was “Brown Bear, Brown Bear.”

Reality TV show I watched:

I don’t really watch TV much. Is The Voice considered a reality TV show. Yes? Then I guess that’s my answer. I like The Voice because the talent is really good, but definitely not because I have a total man-crush on Adam Levine with his dreamy fitted t-shirts and beard stubble.

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Person I kissed:

Myself, as I was taking “selfies” to post on Instagram. Just kidding I don’t really have an Instagram.

Time I cried:

Probably at the last movie I saw, or the last song I heard, or the last magazine article I read, or the last TV show I watched or the last time I cooked a hot dog in the microwave and it exploded or… Seriously, I cry all the time. I’m not sure when my Testosterone levels starting losing the battle to my Estrogen levels. I used to be pretty good at holding it in, but then somewhere around the time I had kids, something changed and now it doesn’t take much to get me going. In fact, I’m crying right now writing these answers.

Time I laughed hysterically:

Answering these questions…

Time I told a little white lie:

Answering these questions…

Time I did something really scary:

Sitting in the passenger seat of a car with my 15-year-old daughter driving?!?

Honestly though, I can’t really pinpoint anything really scary that I’ve done. I’m not much of a risk taker in that there’s no freakin’ way I’ll ever jump out of an airplane or anything like that. I’ve learned to tolerate some amusement park rides, but really don’t get that thrill high that so many people get. Starting a new self-employment career a couple of years ago and taking somewhere in the neighborhood of a 95% pay cut was pretty scary. In fact, it’s still pretty scary. In fact, I’m thinking about putting a donation link on my website.

Time I swore like a sailor:

I prefer to think that I swear like a trucker, but whatever…

I wrote a funny post a long time ago (pre-Freshly-Pressed fame) about not getting Freshly Pressed because of having some swear words in my posts. Here it is:
Getting Fu…Fu…Freshly Pressed

Embarrassing moment:

A few years back at a New Year’s party there was a little bit of drinking going on and then a bunch of shots of Crown Royal, then me and this other dude at the party started mooning people and these days it’s like “what the hell, you can’t even pull your pants down at a party anymore without everyone taking pictures.” Then I got sick in my wife’s van on the ride home with my son in the back seat taking notes. Not my finest moment!

Good deed I did:

I know, I know… you’ve read this whole thing and you’re like “wow, this guy is a total asshole, there’s no way he’s out there doing good deeds.” But honestly, it’s all just a ruse. You see, I’m actually a really compassionate guy. I’m a Boy Scout leader and I volunteer occasionally at my kid’s schools, when my wife signs me up and forces me to. I’m actually relatively well-respected in my community. So, if any of you let any of this shit get out, I’ll have Darla send Kathy Bates to your place to break your legs. ‘Cause Darla and I are tight. [editor’s note: true dat]

Indulgence:

Wine! Welcome to my wine cellar. Here’s the Red box, there’s the White box. Mix them together for pink. Plastic cups are in the pantry.

Thank you all for reading. Please visit me at Brown Road Chronicles. It’s a lot of fun there!

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Up next November’s blogger of the month: Nicole from The Middlest Sister.

blogger of the month

Firsts and Lasts with Charles from Mostly Bright Ideas

cg-on-2011-02-21 (2)I first met Charles online years ago when he left a thoughtful comment on my blog about our mutual disdain for texting. I thought, who is this guy? He immediately struck me as sincere, intelligent and funny. Sure enough, so was his blog,
Mostly Bright Ideas.

Whether he’s pondering the current lack of face-to-face social interaction or detailing what it was like to grow up in 1960s Bronx when kick-the-can and bubblegum cards were the norm, his brilliant writing never fails to spark feelings of pure nostalgia and wonderment.  After reading his posts, I always come away feeling like I had learned a thing or two.  I’d even venture to say all of his ideas are bright.

Continue reading “Firsts and Lasts with Charles from Mostly Bright Ideas”

Blogging · Humor

The Freshly Pressed Curse

Hey, kids! It’s time once again for me to interview myself!

Y’know….(ahem) because no one else wanted to.

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The last time I sat down with myself for an exclusive interview, things got cray-cray up in Darla’s hizzle when an enraged Maineiac toppled the kitchen table à la Desperate Housewife Teresa “The Feds Are Only Jealz of My Fame” Guidice.

Let’s see if this time around I crack a chair on my own forehead Jerry Springer-style.

*****

Me: Good morning.  Today we are going to discuss something that is on every WordPress blogger’s mind.

She’s a Maineiac: Butt implants?

Me: Yes. (tilting head) Have you considered those?

SaM: Well, of course I have. But I thought we were going to discuss the Freshly Pressed phenomena?

Me: Oh, I suppose. God.  (rolling eyes) So, Freshly Pressed–I mean, seriously. What’s the deal? What gives?

SaM: It’s like winning the lottery. Except there’s no money involved.

Me: I don’t understand.

SaM: It’s like being struck by lightning. Except there’s no lightning involved.

Me: You’ve lost me.

SaM: It’s like winning a pretend medal in an imaginary world that only exists in your mind.

Me: Mmkay. Now I’m getting it.

SaM: It’s like finding out everyone in WordPress World thinks your parents are away for the weekend, so they drop by your crib to trash the joint. Maybe drink all your Pabst Blue Ribbon or paint their blog’s URL in ketchup on your bathroom ceiling before they peel out of your driveway in their jacked-up pickup while blaring Crazy Train out the windows and leaving empty Slim-Jim wrappers in their wake, never to return again.

Me: So you didn’t like this Freshly Pressed experience?

SaM: Oh no! I really enjoyed it! (sighing) Best days of my life!

Me: What’s it like? How did you find out you were first Freshly Pressed?

SaM: I woke up, took a long drag off my cigar, opened up my email and Boom — 150 pending emails from WordPress.

Me: You smoke?

SaM: No.

Me: What did you do next?

SaM: I ran around in circles screaming, “What the frack?  How in the hell do I delete all this email?” I honestly had no clue what had happened. I certainly didn’t realize Freshly Pressed was a thing’ back then in 2010. I thought I was picked completely at random.

Me: You were picked at random.

SaM (glaring): Anyway. So I clicked on the front page of WordPress and saw my first FP post up there, right next to a post featuring brownies. I knew right then, I had made it. My husband certainly didn’t think so.

Me: How so?

SaM: When I told him, he just scratched himself, yawned and said, “Gee, that’s nice, honey. What’s for breakfast?”

Me; You threw scrambled eggs at him, didn’t you.

SaM: Well, I had to make sure I spent the next 24 hours glued to my laptop, approving comments like, “Great post!” and “Please visit my blog!” And they were fried eggs.

Me: Are there any drawbacks to being FP?

SaM: Oh sure! Like trying in vain to find that one single breathing non-blogging person on the planet that gives two shits you were Freshly Pressed.

Me: Anything else?

SaM: Nothing prepares you for the inevitable fall from the top, that death spiral of stats when FP fades in a few days. Once the party’s over, you’re left standing on your toilet-papered front lawn, clutching an empty punch bowl and crying, “Come back! Please!”

Me: Do they come back?

SaM: If you’re lucky a few stragglers are left behind who decide to stick around, mainly because they’ve passed out on your couch in their underwear. After three years of blogging, I can honestly say I much prefer the genuine relationship I have with my loyal readers and commenters over being briefly in the spotlight.

Me:  Aw, c’mon! You sure there’s not a teeny-tiny part of you, somewhere back in your equally teeny-tiny mind that would love to be Freshly Pressed again?

SaM: Hell yeah! Of course! We all want it but we all act like we don’t want it — unless we get it. If we do get it, we’re happy — but only briefly. And it’s not cool to brag about getting it, so we act like we don’t care we got it, even though inside we’re thrilled.  But only briefly.

Me: Ummm…

SaM: And this Freshly Pressed high is fleeting because things tend to slide back down to normal pretty damn quickly.

Me: So it’s like getting butt implants?

SaM: Exactly.

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And so concludes Part 2 of my Q&A with myself. No chairs or tables or butts were harmed during the interview.

*****

Like this? See Part 1: My Exclusive Interview with Me About My Blog

Up next: WordPress Rehab with Dr. Drew

blogger of the month

Firsts and Lasts with Angie from Childhood Relived

One fine day a couple years ago, I stumbled upon a humor blog that was hipper than Mrs. Brady’s polyester pant suit, cooler than Shrinky Dinks, and funnier than the fact there was a character on the sitcom Growing Pains named Boner.

angie banner

Angie, the self-described ‘bratass’ from the blog, Childhood Relived, put a humorous spin on 1970s and ’80s pop culture using her own special blend of Pop Rocks and Riunite on Ice.

Her brilliant writing never failed to make me laugh. Plus rumor has it she was once cast as an original member of the beloved Keaton family.

Sha la la la, indeed.
Sha la la la, indeed.

And I’m almost certain she had a bit part on Saved by the Bell: Screech’s Puberty Years

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Then something big happened. After being Freshly Pressed numerous times and ruling the WordPress Recommended Humor Blog page for months — she had to go and get pregnant.

Continue reading “Firsts and Lasts with Angie from Childhood Relived”

blogger of the month

First and Last…with Elyse from FiftyFourandAHalf

Welcome to a new feature where I showcase a blogger every month!
It’s super cool and totally unoriginal!

Plus, Elyse really is the cat’s meow–you’ll love her, her writing and her blog.

So go on over and be sure to check out her two, yes, TWO Freshly Pressed posts, both with the words “Hey Doc” in the title.

Oh and she has two Academy awards! Well, she had them in her possession for at least a full minute or two. And in my book, that counts.

BLOGGER OF THE MONTH: MARCH 2013

Elyse

Name: Elyse

Blog: FiftyFourandAHalf

FIRST…

Blog Post:   Hello WorldInterestingly, it was about how they were going to change Medicare eligibility for folks over 55 – I was 6 months away and it seemed horribly unfair.  That was close to two years ago and I was 54-1/2.  Today I read that they’re talking about changing it for folks over 59.  I am 56.  Shit.

Kiss:  Ricky after our first date to see The Sword and the Stone.
Free_wallpaper_The_Sword_In_The_Stone
Ricky and I were 7 – he was the brother of my sister Beth’s date.  His brother made him kiss me goodnight.  We were both mortified.

Love:  Eddie in 9th/10th grade.  He had Type I diabetes (the only fight we had was when he wouldn’t eat the birthday cake I’d made for him.  I was a dope and didn’t understand).  I just Googled him.  Sadly he died in 2006 from complications of his diabetes.  I only just found out.

Childhood Memory:  I can clearly recall standing in my crib, not feeling very well.  My sisters in their beds across the room weren’t feeling very well either.  My mother was leaning over me, changing my sheets and said “Leasie, you can’t throw up again.  This is the last clean crib sheet.”  Guess what happened next!

gnome_throwing_up_rainbows_by_sublit-d5bt6g9

Moment I met my significant other:  I wrote about meeting my husband in this post:  A Love (?) Story

Time I did something really scary:  I grew up next to the New York-New Haven Railroad.  My brother and I used to wait for a train to round the bend about ½ mile away.  Then we’d pull down our pants and hop across the tracks with our pants between our ankles and our knees.  Thinking of it makes me shudder.

Time I felt ‘grown-up’:  The first time I bought my own socks.  Sometime around 1976, although I didn’t note the date.  I should have.  Nobody should have to spend their hard-earned money on socks.

ugly socks

Job I had:

Lobbyist responsible for getting Congress to designate 1985 as “The Oil Heat Centennial.”  I wish I were making that up.

Thing I think God will say to me at the pearly gates: “Elyse, you won’t need any more stinkin’ poop jokes up here.”

LAST…

Blog Post: A post for the THIS One Should Have Been Freshly Pressed series over at
Peg-o-leg’s Ramblings blog: Corrective Packaging

Thing I cooked:  Eggs over easy

Movie I saw:  Lincoln  (I don’t get out much)

Slide1

Book I read:  Ripple by Bloggin’ Buddy E.L. Farris of Running from Hell with El.  It is fantastic.

Music I listened to:  Linda Ronstadt’s “Don’t Cry Now” on the radio just as I got to work.

Reality TV show I watched:  I don’t.  Ever.  I do read the “recraps” from Speaker7, though.  I don’t understand the popularity of reality TV shows.  I don’t understand why anyone would want to participate in one.  I don’t understand what the world is coming to that this a major form of “entertainment.”  Any one of us bloggers could come up with a creative idea for a TV show.  Shoot me before you force me to watch a reality show, please.

Slide1

Person I kissed:  Cooper, my dog, this morning on my way out the door.  Dogs are people too.  And yes, my husband knows.

Time I cried:  Wait you want the dark stuff, too?  Just now, when I read that my very first real boyfriend (9th/10th grade) had died in 2006.

Time I laughed hysterically:  When I saw the pictures on your “Very Bad Profile Pics” post.  You are hilarious! [editor’s note: I really didn’t write this answer and no money changed hands, I swear.]

Embarrassing moment:  Isn’t that what my blog is all about? [editor’s note: Why yes, it is.]

Good deed I did:  Not running over that bicyclist last night who cut in front of me in traffic while dressed completely in black with no light and no reflective thingys on his bike.  Really, I should have gunned it.

Indulgence:  Milk Chocolate.  Not the dark crap that is supposedly healthy.

wonka

Humor

My Exclusive Interview with Death

Wee Hours of the Early Morning Show with Darla
I’ve got my eye on you, buddy…

[Zippy music intro ends, audience applauds]

Me: Okay, and we’re back! Thank you so much for being here, Mr. Reaper. I know you’re a busy man.

Grim: Hey, no problem. Thanks for having me. I don’t get that a lot.

Let’s start out with what you’ve been up to recently. Seems you’re pretty busy?

Always.

So why, Death? What gets you up in the morning? What’s your motivation?

Man, going for the tough questions right off the bat, huh? I guess I’m just trying to keep people alert, on their toes. Frankly, what I do isn’t easy.
[points to mug on the coffee table]
Hey, is this water? Good God, I hope not! Hope it’s tequila. Death is an exhausting business, dude. And I be takin’ care of bidnezz, every day, ya dig?

[slurps from mug]
Ooh, yeaaah. That’s the stuff.  Takes the edge off. Smoooooth.

Well, I did some research and looked back over your amazing and prolific career, so first off let’s talk about some of your duds.

This is about John Lennon, isn’t it?

Well…sure…let’s start with that one.

Look–hey, it was a mistake, okay? A colossal mistake. And I paid for it back at the bar later that night. The other guys, man, they wouldn’t stop ribbing me about that one. I’m sorry, really. After that happened, I swore I’d never do something crazy like that againBut let’s be honest here, everyone’s allowed one screw-up, am I right?

What about Jimi Hendrix?

Well…I…uh…

James Dean?

Um…oops?

George Carlin? You could’ve at least given him at least a few more years! I mean c’mon!

I’m sorry, okay! What do you want from me? Now that dude was OLD. 

Larry King?

Pfft. Why should I bother? He may already be dead, who knows really?

Donald Trump?

[cold stare]

Rush Limbaugh?

Hey, I don’t wanna discuss this, you promised me we wouldn’t go there.
[nervously sips from mug]

Okay, let’s switch gears here. Tell us a little bit about what happens after you show up. Life after death stuff.

Oh, ho ho! [chokes on drink] Sorry. Uh huh. No can do. Hell, no.

Just a little? We’re all dying to know.
[audience laughs]

Good one. OK…let’s see…there’s this tunnel, then a bright light, soon you’re enveloped with utter peace, unconditional love and happiness…blah, blah, blah… It’s all actually quite nice.
Beats a 7 day poop cruise on the Carnival, am I right?

[audience roars with laughter]

Really? Death isn’t that bad? It’s actually nice?

Nah. It’s not at all nice. I was kidding.
[audience gasps]

You were kidding?

Yeah. There’s nothing after death. Just a big, black void of emptiness.
[audience boos]
What? What did I say? Sheesh, tough crowd.
[smirks, shrugs shoulders]

Would you care to clarify that statement? Are you saying it’s nothing but a vast meaningless abyss after we die?

Ha ha! Oh, no, no, no! I was kidding. Kidding! Again! There’s no big black void! But if you could see the look on your face right now, it’s priceless, man!
I never get tired of pulling that one on people.
[waves spirit fingers in the air, whines mockingly]
Ooh! boo hoo! It’s all nothing! It all means nothing! There is no purpose to life! Woooo! How terrifying! Wah!
God, that always makes me laugh.

What I find fascinating, is you are everywhere.  All the time. You could strike anyone at any moment.

Yeah. That’s right.
[nods smugly]
I’m good.

So any of us could go at any time?

I’m afraid so.

And you might give no warning. None whatsoever.

None. Zip. You just never know when it’s your time.
[long pause]

BOOM! [suddenly lurches forward and grabs my arm] Gotcha!

Ahhh! Holy [bleep]! What the [bleep] was that?! Let go of me!  Holy [bleep] [bleep][bleep]!
[jumps out of chair, audience goes wild]

Oh, I was just teasin’  ya!  Relax! Your audience thinks it’s funny!
[audience laughs]

Nice, well, we seem to be running out of time, Grimmy.

[looking down at notecard]
I want to thank you Mr. Reaper for coming here tonight and–

You don’t know how right you are about running out of time, my friend. You don’t know how right you are. Mwa ha haaaa–

Anywho. So ladies and gentlemen, the Grim Reaper can be seen on his upcoming tour dates at the Shady Pines nursing home in Pensacola, then he jets off for a three night show in Las Vegas.  Be sure to check him out. Or…not…I guess.  In the meantime, all One Billion seasons of Death are available right now on Blu-Ray–

MWA HA HAAAAAA! I’m coming for you, Darla!  No one can escape me!

You are so stupid. [laughing]
We’ll be right back, folks. If I don’t die during break! Up next–Carrot Top!

Oh, God, you had to bring him up!
[Band starts to play. Grim leans in, whispers to me, we laugh uproariously and it cuts to commercial]