In the horn honking competition, Parisians are second only to the Italians, followed by clowns, with Canadian geese and taxis rounding out the field. Parisian streets are thin. The city planners of the tenth century were a tad short-sighted on where things were going, the people were smaller and le Big Mac wasn't even a …
Category: Weird and wired
My stump speech
I'm busy this primary election season building a platform for my newly published book, Fixed. But, if I were running for Grand Pooba of the known universe, this would be the political platform I would stand on. On the subject of undocumented workers: I’m all for building a fence along the border. It would be a white …
Space available
More than once someone has told me, "Dude,you're out there." As a confessed odd duck, I still see no reason to quack about it. But there are advantages. I'm sure you've heard the phrase, "Space is limited." Most often that phrase is reserved for the buying public interested in securing their small chunk of real estate as …
Defies Gravity
I’d like to throw a shout out to Clementine, our beloved rescue cat. She is round like a Clementine only larger, like a Pomelo. She's a British tabby, the feline bulldog. Clementine was taken away from her mother too soon. She doesn’t know she’s a cat and is supposed to do cat things, like, take …
Hollywood’s Dead
What the hell happened to Hollywood? I’ll take Barbara Stanwyck or Robert Mitchum over anything made today, any day of the week. In my mind, they’re two of the coolest actors ever to take command of the silver screen. It doesn’t matter that I’ve enjoyed their same movies numerous times. They’re still fresh and exciting …
Conversation Relapse
I’m in conversation relapse. I try to share the air, but I’ve got a big mouth and can't stop talking without an intervention. “There’s nothing wrong with talking to yourself when you’re alone," my wife told me, "but when we’re together, I would like to be a part of the conversation.” How weird is that? …
What the Flock?
If you asked me who God was when I was a kid, I would have answered with my own question, “What’s in it for me?" The word "heaven" wouldn't even make it out of their mouth. "I’m not talkin’ later," I'd interrupt. "I’m talkin’ right frickin now?” I had a Jewish friend by the last …
Still standing: Happy 5th of July
The war of the night before is finally over.The scorched confetti of pyro's paychecks litter the street while an acrid smell still hangs in the air. Happy July Fifth. This is a day worth celebrating. We won. We beat King George. Again. A day where family pets can come out of the bunker, get on …
First agent rejection: I belong
Call it maturity. I’m finally starting to get over the idea that what people think of me matters most. I’m not “aces” across the board, and that’s fine by me. Everyone doesn’t need to be my mom and love me no matter what. That’ll leave room for someone else to be liked by somebody. That’s …
Not so great: scoped and doped
I’ve been a wanted man for over five years, running from doctors all over Seattle. At the mention of the word colonoscopy, I would pucker and retract like a defiant sea anemone. My last doctor instilled no confidence whatsoever. He had W.C. Fields facial features and a Parkinson’s-like tremor. I could not take my eyes …
doug piotter 