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Things to know before becoming friends with me in real life: A cursory user's guide.

I have wished for a very long time that people came with model-specific user guides. A helpful "Best Practices in maintaining friendship" if you will, and more importantly a cautionary list of "Best-not-to's". In an effort to encourage the documentation of these things by the people I love, I have endeavored to compile a  warning label  user guide to being friends with me.  I'll start with the basic warnings 1. Never give me a key to your house. Sure I'll walk your dog/feed your cat/ probably  water your plants. But is it really worth it if you have me show up occasionally at 7:30am on Saturday morning because no one else is awake and I know I can literally shake you out of bed to have breakfast with me? Sure it is! 3 out of 397 facebook friends agree/can't get their key back from me. Side note: should you actually give me a copy of your house key it is best to make it an obnoxious color or print that I can easily associate with you. I've got ...
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Jesus take the wheel

Last night, after valeting cars in subfreezing temperatures I endeavored to drive myself home during what can only be called a blizzsaster – hey, I'm a Texan. Any amount of precipitation (frozen or not) wreaks havoc on all living things here. We just can't cope. My valet job had me in Arlington, Texas and after my shift I had to get my frozen self home to Oak Cliff , which is a little over 20 miles away. My coworker also lives in the OC (don't call it that) so she used her iPhone to find the path of least resistance for us. You may be wondering why we didn't just get a hotel near the job site. Well, there's a very logical explanation for that. Jerry Jones made a pact with the devil  and has promised the beast the soul of every Dallasite that is not a football fan. With no room at any inn, coworker and I began the slow crouch toward home.  At the very first stop light we encountered we learned two valuable lessons. 1) You need about 20 feet to stop in 4 inches of sn...
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Adventures in Un-stored Phone Numbers, Episode 1

I have mentioned before that I have a really hard time taking care of small, delicate things. I have a propensity to drop them, and in my younger, more alcohol-infused days I had a propensity to throw them at anyone who irritated the hell out of me. Or anyone that was sitting where I wanted to sit. Or wearing a similar outfit to mine. But mostly, I just tend to epically drop things (epically = at least two stories of free fall, preferably onto hardwood or concrete) Because I annihilate cell phones so often I have become accustomed to answering un-stored numbers, because *most* of the time it's a friend. Every now and then I get a gorgeous gem of dysfunctional dialogue that is worth sharing. I present to you Episode 1 of "Adventures in Un-stored Phone Numbers" All sentences in italics represent my internal monologue and should be read as such. Even this one. Episode 1, "Lisa unintentionally oversteps her bounds" INT. ANGELA'S APT - EARLY AFTERNOON. I am sitt...
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