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My secret wish for 2013 is for the New York Times to publish an edition entirely in Comic Sans, just so we can watch its more staid, crotchety and snobbish readers lose their minds for a day. That would be AWESOME.

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This video was sent to me by Chris Harris, filmmaker who created this short film about an imaginary friend about a few years ago. He recently read MEMOIRS OF AN IMAGINARY FRIEND, and it naturally made him think a lot about Mr. Boo. I loved the film and wanted to share it with you. It’s…

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A podcast that I listen to discussed this question: Do you prefer to be overdressed or underdressed? Not surprising to many, I always prefer to be underdressed (even ahead of appropriately dressed), for three reasons: 1. It’s always more comfortable to be underdressed (at least for me), and as a human being and a grown…

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If you are a regular reader of this blog, you probably know that I take my goal setting and New Year’s resolutions very seriously.  Except of course, for the months of October and November of this year, when I completely dropped the ball. No idea why. Just busy, I guess. At the end of every…

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There was once a device marketed to housewives  that would charge anyone who wanted to ring the doorbell 10 cents as a mean of reducing the number of traveling salesmen knocking on their doors. In order to ring the doorbell, a visitor had to deposit a dime in a slot right next to the bell.…

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On Thursday night I was fortunate enough to win my third Moth StorySLAM of my storytelling career at The Bitter End in New York City. The theme of the night was AFTERMATH. I told a story the decisions that my parents made when I was a child and how the birth of my own children…

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My daughter told me that she was asked to try “gross food” at school today. “Gross food, Daddy. Black food. Black, gross food. Black and gross.” I was admittedly concerned at first, unable to conjure the image of what might constitute a black and gross food. After some questioning, it turns out that she was…

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In addition to my fairly useful super powers is one that is no less extraordinary but useless. Whenever I wake up in the middle of the night, for whatever reason, I can accurately state the time within fifteen minutes of the actual time, and oftentimes much more accurately than that. Every time, without exception. How…

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Is Woodstock a figure of adoration or a bird in a hell of a lot of trouble? My daughter refused to explain.    

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