Creative people have different daily routines. Some writers wake up early to write; some can only work late into the night. We all have our quirks. Because I’m fascinated with the routines of other writers, I felt I should share my own daily routine. Maybe this will work for you. It works for me!
I wake up every day at 9 a.m. and quickly count my toes. I have not seen my toes in many hours and I need to reassure myself that the toes are A)still there and B)facing the right way. After that, I check the bed for any dream artifacts — items from a dream that can come through the dream world and end up in your bed (e.g. ukuleles, frying pan, ducks, a scrap of the serial killer’s shirt, etc.).
Then I come up with an idea for a novel.
Then I slowly get out of bed and check my phone for messages and spiders. Spiders can crawl into your phone and lay eggs. This is where the saying, “Ya got spider babies in that phone, son!” comes from.
If no spiders are present, I reward my phone with a sticker. If there are spiders, the phone is placed in the punishment shed.
I put on my socks and pants and shirt and tie and apron and goggles.
Then I go to the bathroom and brush my teeth to remove all the food ghosts haunting my mouth. This takes an hour or so. Continue reading My Daily Writing Routine
A guy behind me at a red light honked his horn. While we were both turning right, it was not safe to turn on red.
I’ll never know why he honked. But I have a few possible reasons…
- He had nothing to do with it. A bee just stung the middle of his steering wheel.
- He thought my car was not a car, but a collection of birds grouped together in car-shape and that by honking the horn, the birds would dissipate and he could be well on his way to the opera.
- The horn wasn’t meant for me. He was the time keeper for a basketball game occurring a few blocks away, and he just ran out to get a coffee and now he realized the quarter just ended so…HONK!
- He didn’t honk the horn. What I heard was the sonic-honk of a nearby duck breaking the sound barrier.
- His dad never let him try out for the school play.
- Me a big dumbo with no foot on go-go pedal! Me thank him for remembering me to vroom!
- The car behind him was driven by the old man who died 10 years ago on this very day, on this very road!
- If he presses the horn, maybe Julie will get back together with him.
- He thinks I’m handsome.
- He’s a spy who just found out the bomb is hidden inside the frame of the painting, and if the kindergarten class trip stands in front of the painting, the bomb goes off and…guess what…the spy’s cell phone has been hacked so he can’t call the museum and has only minutes to make it to the museum and protect the innocent!
- He filled his car with too much horn juice, and it was spilling out of his air vents. By honking the horn, he drains the excess horn juice.
- He thought I was a bank robber getting away, and his honk was meant to signal the police and tell them, “I’ve found him, police officers. He’s over here! I am the Batman of this street.”
- Like music in a movie, the honk sound added much-needed dramatic accompaniment to his Monster Energy Drink sticker.
- If he doesn’t get to the zoo by 4 o’clock, the red pandas will already have eaten! And then what’s the point?
- It’s his first time driving.
- Because this isn’t even about me, bro.
- He’s blind and the only way he can drive is by using echo-location. The sound of the horn bouncing off nearby objects is how he navigates.
- He just saw the new trailer for Fast and Furious 8!
- He’s better than me. I forgot, but the horn reminded me. I’ll call him later to apologize for my crimes.
- His radio is stuck in the in-between space where you hear a little static, but if he just pulls up a few inches, the station comes in clear. So I should move up a bit.
- He’s diarrhea-ing all over.
- His buddy just scored some sick vape juice (apricot) and the weekend is starting early, son!
- He just realized all of his tattoos are pathetic and he lowered his head in shame, thus pressing the horn with his forehead.
- He knows the sound waves of a horn can break up the clouds in the sky, preventing rain and thus saving his trip to the cabin!
- He was expressing himself through his music.
- He just read The Secret and was becoming the master of his own reality.
- He was honking away The Froglins, a race of evil frog goblins who are allergic to loud noises.
- He just got off work and no one else in the entire country worked today besides him, so he deserves this.
- Trump won.
There’s nothing fun about filing taxes, but many Americans are so confused by the laws and regulations that they might be leaving money in the pocket of Uncle Sam. Don’t miss out on these loopholes and opportunities.
1. Money spent in an airplane is tax deductible. If you’re in the sky, you are technically no longer on Earth. Taxes only apply to Earth. Money spent off Earth is tax free.
2. As stated in The Constitution, the amount you owe the government can never exceed the last four digits of your Social Security Number.
3. When filing your taxes electronically, use coupon code “FREEDOM2017” and receive a 5% discount.
4. You don’t have to pay taxes if you promise to help out around the country.
5. Halloween candy counts as earned income. Continue reading 10 Tax Tips That Can Save You Thousands
It’s hard enough finding a leprechaun, getting one to agree to an interview is nearly impossible. Luckily, through a friend of a friend, I was able to find a leprechaun willing to go on record about Saint Patrick’s Day and leprechaun culture. Sly-Robert was born (or hatched…leprechauns are coy about their birth process) in Ireland and moved to Orlando, FL in the 1980s. He’s since moved from forest to forest across the United States. I invited him to the studio and after a few rounds of strong tea, he finally began to open up.
DAN BERGSTEIN: Thanks for making the time. This must be a busy time of year for you?
SLY-ROBERT: It’s busy, but honestly there’s not much for me to do officially. It’s not like I have to make toys or hide eggs. It’s pretty much…I have to hide. That’s it. I hide on St. Pat’s Day and if someone catches me during that day, they get my gold.
Has anyone ever found you?
Nope. I’ve been doing this for 377 years and no one has found me…ever.
That must feel good. It’s quite an accomplishment.
It’s okay. It’s weird. You do this long enough without being found and you start to get a little crazy. For a few decades I was convinced that I was dead and that’s why no one could find me. That was a dark time. But now things are better. It’s still fun I guess.
Where are some of your favorite hiding spots?
Like I’m going to tell you where I hide. Nice try. Look, it’s different every year. One year I was in an attic in Denver. Nine years ago I hid in France at this perfume shop. I’ve hidden on trains and in planes. I’ve hidden inside backpacks at Middle Schools. A few times I hid inside the Liberty Bell. I thought for sure someone would spot me, but it never happened. Continue reading Interview With A Leprechaun
A good Bloody Mary is a simple combination of tomato juice, vodka and Tabasco. A great Bloody Mary contains much, much more.
Here is my recipe for the perfect Bloody Mary.
- 2 oz. premium vodka
- 4 oz. tomato juice
- Juice of 1 Starburst candy (never orange)
- 2 drops of hot sauce
- 9 freshly cried tears
- 1 crushed Centrum multivitamin
- As much chopped horseradish as can fit in the underside of a 2×4 Lego piece
- The crumbs from one bag of O’Boises potato chips (1988 vintage, if possible)
- 1 cotton ball
- Acorn zest
- 1 Tbsp. Worcestershire sauce poured through the hollow tube of a Bic pen
- 3 oz. of Fahrenheit
- 1 oz. walrus milk
- Ashes of an entire Jedi
- 1 tsp. puzzle dust
- 1 tsp. of a nearby forest
- 1 tsp. birthday cake
- A scratch-n-sniff pickle sticker
- The left arm of a Sour Patch Kid
- 2 tsps. chopped parrot jerky
- A thimbleful of the first thing you see in your fridge that has a red label
- The thimble
- A mouthful of Sunny Delight
- Pinch of salt
- Pinch of bismuth
- The ghost of one dead lemon
- 1 tsp. sea cinnamon
- 1 dollop of whipped turkey
- Add water from a melted snowman’s head to taste
Stir the contents in a mason jar with plenty of ice. Garnish with olives, a stalk of celery, a soft-boiled egg, marshmallows, a 3rd place swim team ribbon, brisket stapled to a Pop-Tart, three feet of tape from a VHS copy of That Thing You Do, a lit Roman Candle, a tethered bee and a new shoelace soaked in vinegar.
Prepare drink 5 hours before serving so flavors have time to mingle. Expose the drink to pure moonlight for richer flavor. Before drinking, soak your third worst finger in the cocktail for eight minutes.
The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild is not only the best video game, it’s the best event a human can experience. From graphics to gameplay, this is Nintendo’s masterpiece — a game so well made that it will anger you to know other video games exist at all. There is no other game, only Zelda: Breath of the Wild. This game belongs perched next to the Mona Lisa, and that our government has not yet publicly praised the game is proof that America does not work.
While playing the game, a light appeared in my mind, and from that light I heard the voices of the dead and they said onto me, “Peace,” and there was peace.
To the pathetic, vulgar mammals who know not of the game, Breath of the Wild is an open-world Zelda adventure in which you guide Link through dungeons and puzzles. This is a launch title for Nintendo’s new Switch console, a device that is equal parts Bible and poem. Failure to buy the system is failure to live a purposed life. Of that, we cannot disagree. Continue reading Zelda: Breath of the Wild Review (By Someone Who Hasn’t Played It)
You see a piece of art, hear a piece of music, see a movie or read a book that cracks the shell of your mind and lets the real you emerge. It’s more than being inspired; it’s finding out who you are. There is a time before that experience and a time after that experience, and it shapes the rest of your life. It happened to me while reading Steve Martin’s Cruel Shoes.
By my senior year in high school I was well-versed in the history of comedy. I had old Mel Brooks and Carl Reiner routines memorized. I knew every beat of George Carlin’s 7 Dirty Words bit. And I listened to The Buttoned-Down Mind of Bob Newhart more than I listened to Nirvana’s Nevermind — and this was in the mid-90s so you know how cool I was. Continue reading The Book That Changed My Life