20 Perfectly Good Reasons To Keep Playing On Facebook Instead of Living An Actual Life

1. I need to make sure that people aren’t stalking me by stalking them first. (Wait a minute, Billy Bob just started playing “Cityville” two seconds after I did. He must want me. But he is so not gonna get some of this. Unfriend.)

2. I want to change my profile pic so I’m waiting for someone else to use a good one that I can steal. (Which they probably stole from somebody else. Ever notice that there are only about five profile pics out there, especially around election times?)

3. I’m sure that somebody will eventually post a status that they want me to repost for at least an hour, and I don’t want to disappoint them. (Except for the posts that include “97% of you won’t dare repost”. Now you’re just being confrontational, and that’s not pretty.)

4. There’s that one last person I still haven’t connected with from high school. I don’t really remember her, but she’s in the yearbook and I like a complete set. (Even if she was only at our school for one semester and smelled like wet dog. I love everybody.)

5. My crops will be ready in two hours. (Why waste all that time logging out and back in?)

6. I don’t have anywhere to be in the morning. (Except at the coffee maker.)

7. I’m sure that Boo’s parents will be releasing another video of him any minute, filmed in that oddly-clean apartment where he lives. (I have never seen anything out of place. Ever. That’s almost as creepy as Boo.)

8. I can get ideas for how to redecorate my house by looking at other people’s examples of doing things that didn’t work. (When did macramé come back in style?)

9. I can socialize without having to put my pants on. (This becomes increasingly more important the older you get.)

10. I can click “like” on the comments of people I hardly know just to make them wonder. (Hey, who is that? Is he stalking me?)

11. Why clean the house? It’s just going to get dirty again. (And when you clean, you can’t find things, and this leads to harsh accusations and divorce.)

12. Someone will eventually post a video of rednecks doing stupid things while wearing trashy outfits. These things please me. (Yes, you run the risk of seeing your own relatives as cast members, but you have to take chances, right?)

13. I no longer have to watch my favorite TV shows, because some fool is going to spill all the plot details before I can even turn on the DVR. (Did it ever occur to these Paul Reveres that not everybody watches the shows live, and that riding your horse through the night, screaming about who won “Big Brother”, can get you shot?)

14. The Constant Clicking is actually kind of soothing. (Wait, wasn’t that a k.d. lang song?)

15. You can learn an amazing amount of useless trivia that you will never use again. (Just like high school.)

16. The Facebook-within-Facebook scroll on the right is annoying but hypnotizing. (Wait, Jody Sue just joined the “Sexy Prophets of the Bible” fan page? The little tramp.) Suddenly it’s three days later and the lawn still hasn’t been mowed.

17. There’s still beer in the fridge. (I need something to do while I drink that.)

18. Watching the scrolling feed of inane people spouting way too much information about their personal situations makes me feel better about my own life. (Honey, we really don’t need to know about that rash. And stop sleeping with people when you don’t even know their full name.)

19. It’s nice that so many people want to add me to their Birthday Calendar. (I don’t really know you, but thanks for counting the rings on my tree. Are you sending me a present?)

20. Why bother trying to get anything else done? The Republicans are just going to block me anyway. (Well, until November 2012.)

Peace in.

10 Suggested Facebook Changes

1. The “Delete All My Posts Made Under the Influence of Alcohol” button.

Tired of waking up in the morning with the nagging suspicion that you might have had too much fun with your wall last night? Just hit this button and an app will determine the sobriety level of all your posts, quietly removing now-awkward updates and comments, replacing them with recipes for humble pie.

2. The “Instantly Un-Friend Me From People Who Can’t Make A Coherent Update” button.

Click on this to weed out the friends who apparently never made it past the third grade and/or the English language, resulting in a status message of “U go didnt make told her she aint stupid cow mess a that. Sure did!!!!” There will be an additional option to also delete anyone who clicked “like” on these offensive updates, since supporting stupidity makes you an accessory to the crime.

3. The “Remind Me Why I Friended This Person” application.

Enter a friend’s name, and you will receive a detailed report of exactly what you were saying, thinking and wearing when contact was first made in the Facebook environment. We all have those questionable friend listings that are the result of murky, possibly lust-based decisions that we need to clean out every couple of months or so.

4. The “Status Flair” button.

For those troubled times when you can’t think of anything creative or worthwhile to put as your status, just hit this button and your mundane, yawn-inducing words will be poetically transformed into brilliance, worthy of at least 85 comments and possibly even a fan page.

5. The “Help Me Find This Thing That I Know Was There” search box.

While it is true that posts and links just up and disappear on Facebook from time to time, the real root of the matter is often the result of getting so buried in the pages, clicking here and there, following the bunny trail, that we end up on the wall of someone we have never heard of and never will again. An hour later, when you want to share that funny video you found with the cat riding a Harley, you can’t find it. Of course you can’t, that was 247 clicks and 3 countries ago. Even Moses couldn’t part that Red Sea.

But problem solved. With this fancy search box, just enter a few words about whatever and the program will instantly figure out exactly what you’re babbling about, take you to the link, bookmark it in all programs you own that allow book-marking, and send you a complimentary bagel in the mail.

6. The “Stalker Sterilization” program.

With this lovely security detail in place, you no longer have to worry about people friending you for unsavory purposes. Just as you are about to accept their request, a warning box will pop up, alerting you to the fact that this person has a reputation for commenting on every move you make and hitting the “like” button as if it was a pinata. You can then decide if you want to satisfy your vanity or your sanity.

7. The “I Never Chat On Facebook So If You See Me Doing So It Is A Glitch And You’d Best Not Open That Door” button.

Self-explanatory, yes?

8. The “I Love You But Don’t Send Me Those Damn Game Requests” program.

With this nifty feature, people who violate this agreement will be sent a small electrical shock if they click on your name for the invite. If you are one of those people who secretly play the games yet publicly whine about getting game requests, YOU will get the electric shock. Fair’s fair.

9. The “Politics Time-Out Status”.

Use this temporary status when, even if you normally are very vocal and supportive about your political causes, you are currently not in the mood for yet another post about someone decrying the Satan-like actions of a given politician. Sometimes you just want to read funny jokes about child-rearing or peruse photos of people doing stupid things after consuming tequila. We all need a break now and then.

10. The “Like Button” dropdown.

When clicking the “Like” button, you will now have subcategories that you can choose to better express why you are doing so. Example categories include:

“I’m not actually happy that this tragic thing has taken place in your life, but I wanted to show sympathy and support.”

“I only clicked because no one else has done so and your post looked sad and lonely. Do not take this as an invitation to become best friends.”

“I am so pleased that you have finally figured out how to link a YouTube video.”

“I don’t really agree with your statement, but everybody else in the family has liked it, and I don’t want to deal with hateful glances at Thanksgiving.”

“There. I finally clicked on something of yours. Quit making vague statements on your wall that some people don’t pay enough attention to you.”

“Too busy / tired / undersexed / overworked / disinterested to make an actual comment.”

“I made it past the Stalker Sterilizer. Hah!”

“No underlying motive. I just like it. Thanks.”

“Send money. Jody’s in jail again, damn fool.”

10 Signs That You Need To Un-Friend Someone In Facebook

1. The continuous updates about every single thing that happens in their life.

The posts about special things are just fine. Got that job you really wanted? Hurray! Mama’s surgery went well? So glad to hear it. You just won the lottery? Amazingly great, couldn’t have happened to a better person, and here’s my mailing address for the check I know you’re going to send me. Besties forever!

But then the balance topples in the wrong direction. I really don’t need to know what you had for breakfast. That seems like a personal issue to me. You’re “currently watching Who’s The Boss? on Verizon FIOS"? Why would I care? If I wanted to know this I would call you. And the bowel movements? Honey, why would it even cross your mind to report this? Unless you found the Hope Diamond floating around, no one on the entire planet needs to know this.

2. The constantly-changing relationship status.

Let’s see. At 9am, you let us know that you were “single”, and posted a picture of rotting produce at the Farmer’s Market. At 11am, your status became “In a relationship”, but no name was given. Does this person not have a name? Is s/he in the witness protection program? Granted, some people are not on Facebook, so you can’t connect yourself to them digitally. But really, everybody’s on Facebook now. If they’re not, you shouldn’t be dating them. Right?

Oh, look. At 12:15pm, a name DOES appear. You are swapping saliva with Pamela Ripsnort. We know Pam. How could we not? She’s the one who made you completely insane the last time you were a Facebook couple, with updates from you every three minutes that she was sleeping with the entire population of Dallas but you still wanted her desperately despite not really knowing where she actually lived. Or what she looked like naked.

2:00pm rolls around, and your relationship status is back to “single”, and now your profile pic shows a dead armadillo on some remote West Texas highway. How is this possible? What has happened in the span of five hours that caused all this commotion? God. Okay, here’s the deal. I’m going to send you a private message in Facebook. (These things exist. Were you even aware?) Please call the number in that message. Those people can help you. Or commit you. Something needs to change.

3. The constantly-changing profile pic.

Really? We need a fresh image of you every six hours? I think not. And in the spirit of that “can’t look away from a traffic accident” kind of thing, and three beers, I checked your photo wall. You have 873 profile pictures? Seriously? The Kardashians don’t even have that many, and they take pictures of themselves in the bathroom. (No Hope Diamond there, either.)

4. The abuse of the “Cause” option.

I’m all for showing support of worthy causes. Strength in numbers and all that. I will happily add to the tally of Facebook folks who are fighting for the day when all humans on the planet can live freely. But some of these lesser causes? I really don’t care what the next M&M color might be. I’m not invested in boycotting Whataburger because they don’t have unisex bathrooms. And at the end of the day, I’m okay if some state wants to change their official bird from the dodo to the ostrich. Life will go on.

5. The taggers.

What possibly led you to believe that I wanted to be tagged in a photo of George Bush getting a lifetime achievement award from Rupert Murdoch? You don’t know me at all. Stop it.

6. The people who have no sense of grammar or punctuation.

“Hottin yes told him no gonna be too good for him shove it no time for that LOL!!!!”

Need I say more? Look, I drink people, but I edit as well.

7. The Obsessive-Compulsive “Likers”

Why are you clicking “like” on every single thing that shows up on your wall? It’s not right, you can’t be that happy of a person in this day and age. Let things roll by without your personal validation, like the nasty-sounding recipe for rhubarb soup, the video from a band that you actually hate, or the weird video with the kumquat. Take your hand off the mouse. Or at least give me the number for your pharmacist.

8. The people who never bother to actually read your blog posts.

This one’s personal, and selfish, and laced with a bit of animosity that might rear its ugly head the next time we have cocktails. I can see who visits my site and who doesn’t. I know if you’re showing love or not. With some of you, I’ve held your hair out of the way while you retched into public toilets at disco bars, assuring you that you still look sexy even though you don’t and I had to break off my conversation with a hot guy when I saw your green-faced ass darting toward the bathroom. I’ve been there for you. Be there for me. Fair?

9. The political angle with buddies from the past.

We all know the feeling. You finally locate a long-lost amigo, friend requests are accepted joyously, and there is peace in the valley. Until you actually take a look at their now-revealed wall. Then you see that said wall is plastered with hateful, delusional comments and postings that are the complete opposite of everything that you stand for. Digging deeper, you realize that this goes beyond delusion, that this person may have actually lost their mind.

Let them go, quietly into the night. It’s one thing to gently disagree. It’s quite another to allow hatred and bigotry to taint your wall. It can be tough, yes, especially with people you really cared about at one time, but let them go. You’ll feel better in the morning. Trust.

10. The people who re-post “news stories” from questionable sources.

The Internet is a vast and wonderful thing, allowing us access to a wealth of knowledge. At the same time, it’s a hotbed of pointless crap with no factual basis whatsoever. Don’t believe everything that you find out there. Are you seriously going to send me something posted on “Dirk’s Adolescent Basement of Inbreeding” and expect me to accept a crayon-scribbled piece about Obama having slept with a jackal while both of them were wearing a tutu and singing show tunes?

I think not. Michelle is far too classy to allow her husband to wear low-end couture.

And so it goes…

17 Fun Things to Say to Your Partner Just to Be Annoying

1. “Is there a particular reason why you can’t unload the dishwasher? Is it a religious issue?”

2. “That button on the DVR remote that says ‘Erase All’? What happens if you accidentally push that? And what happens if I’m the one that pushed it?”

3. “You think it’s okay that the Christmas boxes are still stacked in the den? Let’s put you in the attic and see how you feel about things being in the wrong place for 11 months of the year.”

4. “I hung up on your brother. Never liked him. Too whiny.”

5. “Can I borrow that book you read? You know, the one that told you it was okay to pick all the meat off the leftover pizza and then shove it back in the refrigerator? That one.”

6. “Do you think I’m prettier than Eva Longoria?”

7. “You do realize that the people on ‘Survivor’ can’t hear you, right?”

8. “What was the name of that restaurant we ate at that one time where they had breadsticks?”

9. “Do you think pudding has feelings?”

10. “I’m taking the kids back to the store. I don’t think these are the ones we ordered.”

11. “I love pencil shavings.”

12. “What’s a word that rhymes with ‘orange’?”

13. “Guess what I’m thinking.”

14. “I don’t like my feet.”

15. “I think we should start making our own ketchup from scratch.”

16.  “I have more Facebook friends than you do.”

17. “Honey, wake up. Your snoring doesn’t bother me, of course, but the entire country just went on Defcon-4 and the house is surrounded. Could you answer the door?”

Live Blog #8 - A Really, Really Live Blog - The Final Version

The Set-Up:  At Tierney’s once again, about to start the Live Blog, but we’re doing things a bit differently this time. I’ve posted a Facebook status asking for conversation topics. This could be fun, or it could hit the failblog with a loud smack. We’ll see. (The questions posted in Facebook are in bold, and the contributors have been given cute little anonymous names...)

Grieve Pushlett: “Selfishness.”

Me: “Hmmm. Not really sure what this word means. Everything I have ever done in my entire life has been completely selfless. Except for the times when I’m awake. (Hey, Suctionetta, can I get another beer over here?)

Havilland: “Everybody else is selfish. But not I.”

Blinda: “I know Havilland is telling the truth because she used to work for me. And she used to wear skirts this long.” (Fingers are held up that are about 2 millimeters apart.) “And then there’s the story about the turkey baster.”

Apiphany: “I don’t wanna talk about selfishness on a Friday night.”

Grieve Pushlett: “How people justify what they know is wrong, in life but I will be forgiven anyway.”

Me: “Is Grieve drunk?”

Blinda: “Because they’re selfish.”

Sage: “There’s two sides to every story.” (Well, yeah. The right side and the wrong side. Is Sage drunk?)

Apiphany: “I brought cards!”

Bettina Filler-Jerky: “Clowns.”

Me: “To the left of me, jokers to the right, here I am. Stuck in the middle with goo.”

Blinda: “Is somebody going to send them in now?”

Blinda: “I think a stripper clown would be good.” (Well, they actually had such on the second season of “Reaper”. Seriously.)

Lolo: “I know clowns scare people.”

Sage: “Why do some women have a fetish for clowns.” (I didn’t know about such a thing. I’m fairly sure that I don’t want to know any more.)

Pompous Roams: “Beer.”

Me: “I’m an expert. What question do you have?”

Sage: “All I know is that if anybody touches my beer, there’s gonna be a rumble.”

Lolo: “Woo-hoo, beer!”

Tex: “More, please.”

Me: “I’m thinking there won’t be much of meaty substance with this one.”

Bob Florist-toe: “ ‘How I lost my virginity’. And go…”

Me: “This is dangerous territory Mine took place on my parents’ waterbed, even though the activity was severely limited due to the AC unit being on the fritz and we didn‘t get very far. (OMG, my mom reads this blog. This is going to be an awkward Thanksgiving.)

Apiphany: “I’m not gonna touch that.”

Tex: “Let me assure you that no cattle were involved. No farm animals were harmed.”

Lolo: “I’m not gonna tell.”

Tex: “Per court order, I can’t talk about it. Those records are sealed.”

Sage: “It all started with a gag order.” Then he laughs maniacally. This makes me very scared.

Bonnie Borden Kegister: “How about ice cream?”

Me: “Ice cream is proof that there IS a higher power.”

Blinda: “We all scream about ice cream. Actually, we just scream. Life is hard. And then you die.”

Tex: “Refer to the previous post.”

Apipany: “Don’t get me wrong, I’ll eat it, but there are issues.” (The mind boggles, right?)

(Side Note:  Some of the folks at the table have started playing Spades. Immediately there is anger in the air and caustic discourse. I might lose these people. We’ll see.)

Pleaza Da FooFoo Spinach: “Marriage and Civil Partnership!”

Me: “It completely mystifies me that we are still having a debate about this. In the 21st century. Seriously?”

Blinda: “The House of Civil Partnership?” (Um, perhaps I need to speak more clearly. Or maybe Blinda needs to slow down with the raspberry vodka.)

Apiphany: “I believe in the sanctity of marriage. I just don’t know if I’m ever going to partake in it.” (I think Apiphany is watching a different program than we are.)

(Side Note: One of the servers just mentioned that one of our party has been cut off from further beer intake. We don’t know if he’s actually being serious, but everyone at the table feels guilty and pretends to study their shoes.)

Sage, quoting from a movie: “If you blow chunks and she comes back, she’s yours. If you spew and she bolts, it was never meant to be.” (Then Sage chuckles and babbles about “Wayne’s World”. I’ve never seen that one. And I feel cleaner for it.)

Grieve Plushett: “Clowns beer and lost my virginity and then ice cream, glad that wasn’t all in one.”

Me: Still thinking Grieve has tippled a bit. Or has some tremendous insight that has escaped the rest of us.

Blinda: “I lost my virginity to a beer-drinking clown while eating ice cream.”

Sage: “One clown says to the other, can I get a courtesy flush?”

Apiphany: “I had a dream. I could not see his face.”

Piza Bitsock: “Ham sandwich, ugly shoes and beards.”

Me: “That’s exactly what I said on my first same-sex date.”

Blinda: “Are we in Missouri?”

Apiphany: “Isn’t that what happened to Mama Cass?”

Sage: “Welcome to the cheap seats at Dodger’s Stadium. (Gotta love those Dodgers.)”

Tribeca Quartz: “LOL @ Steve… I’m sure Brian can blend it all nicely.”

Me:  Awww. Me loves Tribeca. We tight.

Tribeca Quartz: “To whit: If you could star in any action movie, which one would you choose?”

Me: “Action movie implies having to run around and do things. I’m really not invested in that. If I can just push a button, I’m all for it. Otherwise, just say no.”

Lolo: “Terminator.”

Apiphany: “Out of Bounds. I wanna be in a trunk with George Clooney.”

Blinda: “Die Hard. I just think it would be fun.”

Tex: “Gone in 60 Seconds.”

Blinda: “I used to date him, Gone in 60 seconds.”

Sage: “Under Siege with Steven Segall. The chef goes crazy and kills all the bad guys.”

Stranger passing by: “”Do you know where the bathroom is?”

Grieve Plushett: “Movie - One Million Years BC with Raquel Welch.”

Me: “So Grieve likes scantily-clad women running around wearing bits of fur and a nice suntan. Got it.”

Blinda: “I hope to be plasticized.” (Blinda has had a few cocktails.) “Wait, was the Geico caveman alive then?” (Blinda’s eyes roll back in her head at this thought. Apparently she finds him sexy. We all have special needs.) “I like hairy men. Just not the back.”

Tribeca Quartz: “Oooohh… Raquel Welch…” 

Me: “Tribeca does love the strong women who hunt and gather, and look sweaty yet sexy while doing so. This is admirable.”

Sage: “She had a pair of bongos that would go on for days. Hawt!” (I really don’t want to know any more about Sage’s infatuation with 60’s nymphets who dashed about while sporting pendulous body parts. Then Sage suddenly has to leave for the evening. I don’t even dare ask why he needs to be alone right now.)

Grieve Plushett: “You said action movie, LOL.”

Me: Yes, Tribeca did, Grieve. Don’t worry. You haven’t violated any laws or legal directives. Wait, let me qualify that. You haven’t acted illegally during this blog. What you do on your own time, well, that’s your own issue. I wasn’t there and can’t have your back.

Tribeca Quartz: “LOL! *ahem* Yes, I did.”

Me: Tribe, don’t encourage Grieve. He’s already having questionable fantasies about slinky female movie stars who stand on hilltops and vanquish dinosaurs. I really don’t think this is healthy. Then again, it’s all in the perspective, right?

Apiphany: “Non-virgin Clowns drinking beer selfishly?”

Me: I have a brief consultation with Apiphany, wherein I explain that she’s not really supposed to comment on the Facebook post. Because she’s sitting right here with us in Tierney’s. She’s supposed to make her comments to ME, and I will add them to the blog. Tiffany gives me a look that clearly explains it doesn’t matter what MY needs might be, she’s going to do what she wants, screw everybody.

Grieve Plushett: “Now that is an action movie.”

Me: He’s referring to Apiphany’s comment. In another dimensional plan, Grieve and Apiphany could get along famously. In this world, they will never speak to one another unless directed by authorities to do so.

Tribeca Quartz: “*scooping up a blowhorn* Aaaaannnndddd...ACTION!”

Me: First, Tribeca is really serious about this action stuff. She wants things to blow up, and she wants to catch the beautiful heroine as she tumbles out of a window and nearly plummets to her death. Second, have you noticed that all my counterparts here at Tierney’s have stopped responding? I’m really trying to keep them invested, but it’s a lot of work.

Havilland: “Talking to ppl while ur doing #2 in the other stall.”

Me: “Um, what?”

Apiphany: “I’m kind of busy right now.”

Apiphany: “This is really weird, but you look like Jeff Probst.”

Me: Why are none of my friends sober? And why won’t any of them help me with the response to Havilland’s comment. Come on, the girl was just here. Have you forgotten her that quickly?

Me, hours later: Anybody?

Me: Fine. Well, Havilland, I guess it’s up to me. Completely agree that people need to shut the hell up when finding themselves in communal stalls. People are occupied. Commentary is not necessary. If you really need to discourse while recycling, we probably don’t have much else in common. And really, I’m too tired to kill you. So just exit the building and never come back. Thank you.

Grieve Plushett: “Havilland, that is so wrong and so funny on every level. Men don’t talk, but we try to out noise each other, what the heck is there to talk about, do tell.”

Me: Havilland is no longer here. Let me speculate and theorize, from the male perspective. Yep, there seems to be some type of animalistic competition in the men’s room. The grunting and noxious explosions emitting from the stalls is akin to the shocking mustard-gas experiments in World War I. On a personal level, I really don’t understand why anyone speaks while in public facilities. Do your business and go.

Apiphany: “*CUT*! Tribeca, they gave me the wrong mike… helllpppp.”

Me: Translation - Apiphany does not do well when the spotlight is not on her. This makes her want to hurt people. Do not take this personally. Especially since she couldn’t care less what happens to you, as long as her own needs are met.

Havilland: “Paying for ur gas with $15 in pennies and nickels.”

Me (and have you noticed that my peeps around me at Tierney’s are no longer contributing ANYTHING?) : Havilland briefly referenced the above statement as she raced out the door so she couldn’t be associated with us in any way. Apparently she had a horrifying experience at a gas-purchasing establishment, and some trollop chose to pay for her wares with sticky coinage found in a couch. They were in line for hours while somebody used an abacus to complete the transaction.

Tribeca Quartz: “*scrambling and cursing* Good LORD, good help is hard to find!”

Me: By “help”, I believe Tribeca is referring to domestic nymphets that can descend upon her dwelling and make things nicely sapphic. But that’s just a guess.”

Crate Sodd: “Roller derby… kick some ass!”

Me: I knew Crate back in the day, when we attended a college smack in the midst of crazed conservatives who looked askance at anyone who dared to think in a progressive manner. Needles to say, we chafed under the yoke. But we bonded, and we survived.

  So the roller derby angle does not surprise me at all. The thought of Crate cheering on helmeted people as they skate in a circle and beat the hell out of each other seems somehow fitting.

Tribeca Quartz: “*running up to Apiphany with the proper mic and thrusting it at her* Here, here… take it and use it well.”

Me:  Tribeca, do you really think it’s a good idea to hand Apiphany a phallic object and encourage her to use it well?

Apiphany: “I’ll have a beer while I wait. OMG! There’s a clown behind that mirror. Eeek!”

Me: Trying a bit hard, aren’t we, Apip?

Grieve Plushett: “and two of them are heading to the bath room stall, wonder what clowns talk about together doing number 2. If there both girl clowns, and there are nothing but stalls, how do you know the other one is doing number 2 so you know you can talk to them? The questions of life?”

Me: This appears to be a sexual fantasy that I shouldn’t touch with a 10-foot pole. Although I have a feeling that somebody in this Live Blog believes that they have such a weapon. I hope the clowns are prepared.

Tribeca Quartz: “Hey, now, I’m just in charge of the sound equipment…”

Me: Doesn’t this sound like a guilty statement to everybody else? What is Tribeca trying to hide? Say, where was she on the night that thing happened? Hmmm.

Editor’s Note:  At this point I look up from my trusty netbook, and realize that nearly everyone has abandoned me. Some have sauntered off for the evening, others are being brazen hussies and trolling the bar for potential playmates. (And that’s just the guys.) Those who are still sitting at our special table are doing everything they can to look incredibly busy and occupied when I start with another round of “Okay, the next topic posted in Facebook is…” If I try to be obnoxious and make them pay attention, they all look at me as if my immediate death would still not be satisfactory punishment.


  My, how things twist in an evil way so quickly. This was all delightful fun a few hours ago. Everybody couldn’t wait to contribute a comment. Now there is hatred and dissatisfaction. (To be fair, Lolo and Tex really couldn’t hear what was going on, sitting way at the other end of the table and basically in another county.) Well, fine. Run off and play. I’ll just finish these on my own…

Ban Winter: “Where is Tierney’s Café & Tavern? (Or Cavern?)”


And 


Tribeca Quartz: “Somewhere in Dallas, I’m guessing. I’m Mapquesting so I can go and crash the party.”

Me: Ban and Tribe: We’re actually in Lewisville, a wee bit to the northwest of Dallas. But if you’ve ever been to the DFW metroplex, town names actually mean very little. It’s really one big-ass, extremely spread-out gigantor mix of people. The only way you can possibly know that you’ve crossed a border is that the street signs look a little different or the police car in your rearview mirror suddenly has different colors. And come on down, Tribe. Even if you drive all the way from Canada, we’ll probably still be here. Some of us don’t understand that it’s time to go until they turn out the lights. It’s not unusual for us to still be sitting here in the morning, asking if anybody has seen our server lately..

Ban Winter: “Oh… I can’t, since I’m in New Yawk, but I will be there in spirit. Cheers!!!!”

Me: Thanks, Ban. In tribute to your support, I took the remains of someone’s Caribbean Madness salad, and used the pieces of fruit to create a cute little figurine that looks exactly like your profile pic. Sadly, your strawberry head fell off when someone bumped the table, but that happens a lot around here.

Soara Popespan: “I presume by now that Bri-Bri & Co. have by now come up with a lengthy list of topics, so I will just respond to Tribe’s question: I didn’t star in it, but I was invited to a corporate party at the president’s home in Beverly Hills one year and told we were to dress as our favorite actor.

  Monty Hall (Let’s Make a Deal) dropped by to say hello and to ‘judge’ the winner. I didn’t ‘win’. I dressed as Ripley from Aliens and proceeded to reenact the ‘meal scene’ by jumping up in the middle of dinner, grabbing my chest, flopping on the table and screaming while unzipping my flight suit (thank you Army/Navy surplus) and allowing the rubber alien attached to the t-shirt underneath to ‘pop out’. Half the people were laughing like crazy, the other half who had never seen the film were frantically dailling 911. It took a while to live that one down…”

Me: Um, there is silence at the table after having just read your words, as we now realize that anything we are doing at Tierney’s has suddenly become pointless and meaningless. Until just a few seconds ago, we were very satisfied with our lives, thinking they had some worth. Now we realize that they do not, because we have never had the joy of reenacting anything while using discount costumes.

  Even the time I dressed up as “Karen Silkwood” for Halloween can’t even begin to compare. Sigh.

Bewetta Flaylor:  “Why your Granny cannot live in your back yard in a tent!”

Me: Oh God. It’s Mom again with her incessant need to distance herself from her own mother. This has been an ongoing discussion, one of those extended, never-ending family discourses wherein everybody truly does love one another, but living arrangements are constantly brought up for review, fingers are pointed, and guilt is served in large, fat-dripping portions.

Soara Popespan: “Hmmm… I didn’t know Bri-Bri Had a 10-foot pole…”

Me: “Well, things just happen sometimes, so don’t be jealous. You can’t always get what you want. But if you try sometimes, you just might find, that somebody else will pick up the tab and your hangover in the morning will at least be financially-solvent….


And THAT, dear friends, seems as good a place as any to wrap things up. Thanks to everyone who participated. Truly. Can’t wait to do it again. I think…

10 Things To Do While Waiting for an Inspirational Blog Idea

1. Open the refrigerator door and stare into it.

  It’s still all the same stuff that was in there the last twenty times you looked, but if you stare hard enough you will notice something that you haven’t seen in a while. You probably won’t want to eat it, but at least it’s something different. Move the pickle jar slightly to the left. This will change your whole perspective.

  Open and close the produce drawer at least twice. There’s not any actual produce in here, because you haven’t used the bin correctly since two days after you bought the refrigerator, but that’s okay. Instead, you use this drawer for questionable items that should probably be thrown away, but it’s just too much work walking three steps to the trash can. Easier to throw things in here and then let your Aunt Cleo find fuzzy surprises when she visits for Thanksgiving.

  And you know the eggs have gone bad. Stare at them in their special container for a bit, wondering why eggs are the only things that get fancy places to live. Tell the pickles that they should speak with their Congressperson about better housing opportunities. Pretend that the pickles answer, because that makes it more exciting. Make plans to go out for drinks on Saturday.

2. Continue to not pay your bills.

  You know that stack on your desk is getting pretty high. Those little letters are lonely, especially the ones that you haven’t even bothered to open because people want money and you don’t have any. Perhaps you could at least prioritize them, moving those items that qualify as “really should do something about this one” to the top of the stack. But that would require you to make decisions, like whether or not the phone bill is more important than the electric bill, and who has time for that? Don’t pay anything and wait for something to be turned off. Make it a game. With prizes.

3. Check out other blog sites.

  Go to one that you really like, one that has lots of followers who worship the writer and post glowing comments full of devotion. Dream about this. Then read one of the writer’s new entries, and realize that you can never produce something as stunning as that. Cry a little bit. Then recover, and add what you hope is a witty comment that will somehow magically increase traffic to your own site. This won’t happen, but at least you’ll have a purpose in life for thirty minutes.

4. Floss.

5. Check your email.

  Marvel at the number of kind and generous people who seem willing to part with large amounts of money if you’ll just provide a tiny bit of personal information. Ponder why there seems to be such an incredible need for mystery shoppers. Wonder what you might have clicked on at some point that would lead someone to believe you would be interested in racy photos of scantily-clad Russian nymphets as they go about farming duties.

  Delete any emails that reference your stack of unpaid bills. Just because you send me reminders does not mean that my paycheck is any bigger.

  Go through your mail folders, those things you swore you would keep organized THIS time but didn’t, and see if you can remember why you chose the insipid folder names that you did. Most of the names will not make any sense. Reviewing the contents of the actual folders only deepens the mystery. How did this happen? Do strangers have access to your account? Sadly, they don’t. You’re just getting old and forgetting things, like whether or not you picked up the kids from school and the years 1987 and 1993.

6. Play Solitaire.

  Ignore the fact that this game is designed to disappoint you, with it being mathematically impossible to win more times than you lose. Don’t worry that the repeated crushing realization that you are out of moves can lead to mental instability, or at least the exchange of harsh words with nearby relatives who were just innocently inquiring if you would like some tea. Beverage-offerings aside, it is somehow their fault that you can’t get to the 6 of diamonds that you need.

  Give in to the addiction, let it consume you. Click away on that wireless mouse until the battery dies, thus giving you a reason to drive to Walgreen’s, thereby delaying the writing of your blog post even further. Once at Walgreen’s, peruse the candy aisle, checking carefully to see if anything new has been invented that you need to taste. Go to the greeting card section and turn all of the stupid ones face down. Contemplate why there are so many brands of enemas. Then think of Congress and you understand why.

7. Change your Facebook profile pic.

  Take a tranquilizer first, then go through images of yourself, looking for one that is halfway decent. Get slightly despondent that all of the really cute ones are at least twenty years old. Back when you had dreams and didn’t yet qualify for life-altering credit cards. So now you have to decide: Do you use one of the old ones, making you somewhat similar to those wicked people who use fake photos on dating websites? Or do you use one of the new ones, where you look like you’ve given birth to forty-seven children no matter how you style your hair?

  Perhaps you should have a glass of wine while you make your decision.

  In the end, don’t change the picture at all. Keep using the current one, even though you don’t like it anymore. Your friends are already used to that one, and they’ve stopped asking questions about what that thing is in the background, and why it looks like you’ve torn off half the picture. (No need to stir up the rumors about your “lost summer” with that guy you met at Luby’s who turned out to have issues.) Instead, just make a status update. Something about a rutabaga. Then keep refreshing the page until three people have “liked” it. Your work here is done.

8. Think about doing the laundry. Then don’t.

9. Organize the top of your desk.

  Hide everything in the drawer that has the most spare room. Decide to vacuum your mouse pad, because it will take at least fifteen minutes to get the Dirt Devil out and set it up, twenty if you pretend to look for the accessories that you haven’t seen in years. Clean your monitor, wondering exactly who it is that has been touching the screen so much, because it sure hasn’t been you. Or at least, not that you recall. There’s been a few beers. Move the printer, gaze at the dust bunnies, make vague plans to deal with that at some point, then shove the printer back in place.

10. Justify your slacker existence.

  Use an online dictionary to look up a word that you don’t really intend to use, because this is considered “research”. Call one of your friends and talk about who shouldn’t be wearing what when they look like THAT, because this is considered “social networking”. Go to YouTube, and watch videos of stupid people hurting themselves after the phrase “watch me do THIS” is uttered, because this is considered a “cultural review”.

  And finally, just start writing down whatever pops into your head. There’s a risk of this resulting in useless gibberish of no value whatsoever. But sometimes, you just might end up with something that might actually minimally entertain your reader.

  Sometimes.