The federal government shutdown, in one chart…

By Day 15 of the US government shutdown, all story lines had been exhausted.  We’d heard about indignant park rangers, shuttered memorials, and furloughed feds (and pre-schoolers), and seen hundreds of tiny outrages cataloged in social media among our so-called friends.  Hardships were documented, political tactics assessed, jeremiads delivered, your shutdown in 720 degrees.  All that remained was the end game, with haggard journos spying the Capitol dome for a puff of white smoke, the signal that, yes, a deal had been done.

But until then, new angles had to be found!  I guess that’s why I got an email Continue reading “The federal government shutdown, in one chart…”

The Virgin Diaries: check out my feature in the Washington City Paper

I’ve been working hard on my one-man storytelling show, No Sex, Please, which premieres Friday, July 12 at the 2013 Capital Fringe Festival.  I’m very excited and can’t wait for the show to open – it covers my bumbling experiences with love and sex from my formative years on through to my mid-twenties.  Long story short:  I was a virgin until I was nearly 28-years-old.

Go here to learn more about the show and my process (read: struggle) to create it – AND WHAT IT ALL MEANS! – in my feature for the City Paper. Continue reading “The Virgin Diaries: check out my feature in the Washington City Paper”

I am not Tobias Funke: a walk down the doppelganger* trail…

Uh-oh – there it is again. That shimmying vapor that is the Hypnagogic Portal! Step though with me, friends, to see what lies on the other side… But be warned – the vapor is not without its hallucinogenic effects…!

1982

Whoa! It’s Jason Bateman! But not the revitalized, culturally-relevant Jason Bateman from Arrested Development. No way. This is the Bateman from Silver Spoons, he of the swooping feathered hair and hellion mien that shuddered the hearts of moms everywhere during the Reagan ‘80s. That guy. I see him Continue reading “I am not Tobias Funke: a walk down the doppelganger* trail…”

We voted for Wealth Inequality in America

As a Yankees fan, I enjoy the paroxysms of hatred that my kind inspires in nearly everyone else who follows baseball.  Now let’s set aside for a second that Yankees fans are essentially arrogant dicks who couldn’t hit a fastball if it meant a million bucks.  And let’s forget, too, how they take credit for every Derek Jeter single and throw “we” around as if they personally contributed to every glowing accomplishment in Yankees history.  They’re not grammarians, you know?  They’re fanatics – high on mildewy successes from yesteryear and a gilded future that seems their birthright, never mind the team’s AARP-eligible roster, overpriced talent, and the sinking feeling that, maybe, the Yankees aren’t what they used to be.  Yet still… Continue reading “We voted for Wealth Inequality in America”

Storytelling with SpeakeasyDC: Fifty Shades of Grey

—————————————————–

Here’s the video from my most recent storytelling gig, in February.  It covers the tawdry events and psychic baggage that almost stopped me from getting to first base (for the first time, people!) when I was in 11th grade.  You can file it under “Triumph of the Human Spirit,” if you’re so inclined.  From SpeakeasyDC‘s Valentine’s Day show.  Cheers.

Thanks to Nick Newlin for posting the video!

My notebook habit…

A couple of weeks ago, a friend of mine gave me a pair of leather-bound notebooks.  “You’re a journal writer, right?”  I had to think about it for a second before offering a tentative “yes,” since I’m a journal writer more in concept than in practice.  I’m far more likely to watch a film or read a story about a journal writer than to actually sit down, crack open a new page, and put my pen to paper (or fingers to keypad, as it were) nowadays, such is the procrastination, lethargy, and outright dissipation that can dominate my existence.

But still, I accepted those notebooks, as if Continue reading “My notebook habit…”

Steel cage match: Excel Xlerator vs. Dyson Airblade

Among watering-holes and restaurants catering to perpetually unmarried folk who like their prices high, portions small, and wait times in excess of 90 minutes, I’ve found bathrooms appointed with one of two brands of automatic hand dryer (often in addition to linen-infused paper towels for the environmentally unconcerned)…  First up is the Dyson Airblade, that darling of the National Sanitation Foundation (NSF), whose air-handling innards are said to smite 99.9% of germs that cross its path.  Its womb-like chamber beckons your dripping fingers and promises to dry them in just seconds!  But crimony – it’s a stupid British import!

Well, fret not, Francophiles.  Its challenger is as all-American as school shootings and cure-all tax cuts Continue reading “Steel cage match: Excel Xlerator vs. Dyson Airblade”

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑