Some of the most entertaining conversations I have are over lunch with co-workers. Welcome to another installment in the “Lunch convos” series. In this one, Neal bemoans the lack of a hunting culture in Blacksburg, Virginia.
Another blog entry out of a conversation over a Mexican food lunch with friends this past August. If you are a fan of “The Bachelor,” you may want to wash your hands after reading this.
I was recently given a writing prompt challenge. I had to “Write a script to give telemarketers to sell plastic pooper-scoopers.” It’s rare that I get an excuse to write about poop, so I took up the challenge.
It was just a brief, hour-long lunch at a local Mexican restaurant, but the inane topics it spawned has led to a half-dozen blog posts. In this post, the Magic Eight-Ball is compared to Siri.
Ever wondered about the buttons in your car that you never push? In this random lunch conversation, a friend’s comment leads to VBU (vehicular button uncertainty).
What do you do when you meet a bald evangelist in the parking lot of a Mexican restaurant? You could make up hair jokes, or you could discover a magic pill.
That inspirational quote? It’s really stupid. Think about it before you crochet it on your pillow – or post it on social media. It doesn’t matter how pretty you wrap it up.
I don’t know if anyone else tries to fight off being sick, but here’s my phases of fighting sick. It includes trying to trick my body, denial, and finally assuming the fetal position.