He talks a lot, now, this kid. B-Dub’s got a whole contingent of words, some of them known, some of them guessed-at, some of then Lovecraftian gibbers that summon gray-skinned amphibious monstrosities from the deep. It all started with Mommy and Daddy, of course, but it always does and those don’t make particularly exciting first words — far more compelling to have a first word like “Pasketti.” Or “Bah-Bah.” Or “neo-anarchist regime.” Or, “Hey, lady, I got a diaper here that’s as heavy as a wet sweater and it’s killing all the plant... Read The Rest →
The other day, I received this in my inbox: Dear Sir/Madam I am Ronald T. Hosko,the personal secretary to the FBI Director; Roberts Mueller III. After proper investigations, we discovered that your pending payment which has been withheld by imposters for a very long time and they have been claiming to be who they are not, But with the Help of FBI we have been able to trace them. Our Investigation revealed that you have spent a lot of money just to conclude the successful transfer of your funds by... Read The Rest →
Thing is, as you start to sing songs to your kids, you start listening to the lyrics. Rockabye Baby? In the tree-tops? Wind blows, cradle rocks, baby falls out of tree? Why was the baby in the tree in the first place? Who puts a cradle up there? Ben Franklin? Nikola Tesla? And why are we singing songs about babies falling out of trees as a means to get babies to sleep?
First, what funny novels have you read? Why were they funny? Were they more than just funny? Did they have good characters, good story, all the things you should have in a proper tale? Second, what's funny? How do you write funny? That second one's an open-ended and perhaps unanswerable question.
This week, the calendar pages come fluttering off the wall, and Baby B-Dub reaches nine months of age. Which means he's been out as long as he was in. And it's becoming increasingly clear that we're screwed. But that's okay. We like it. Happy nine months, kiddo.