Happy New Year!
Has the hangover subsided yet?
At this time last year I resolved to grow a beard because basically, as resolutions go, that was the easiest of my wife’s requests.
“All I have to do is not shave for a while? Crap this resolution is as good as done.”
The beard lasted like a month because I don’t like beards. That shit itches.
So, if anyone ever asks you, “Does that guy who writes the Had A few Beers blog like to grow a beard?” You can authoritatively answer, “No. He does not care for the feel of a beard.”
If you win any money in a bet situation with a question like that I’d like a cut, whatever you feel is right. I’m not greedy.
Anyway, HAFB is almost, but not quite, a year old. I do plan to do a first-year review but that’s a few weeks away.
So what I want to do today is introduce someone to you – my editor.
Yeah, I have an editor as of three or four posts back. I desperately needed one and am deeply, deeply thankful for her offer even though I have to pay her like $1 million Internet dollars an update.
I’ve known Fran for like, crap, 24 years. We were both Basic Journalism students at Ft. Benjamin Harrison, Ind. The key difference between us is — she paid attention to stuff like speeling, gramer, and sentense structure, while I spent most of my time thinking about boobs.
Fran started Facebook stalking me (and by Facebook stalking I mean undressing me with her comments WHORE!) about the same time I started drunkenly doing Facebook updates. She’d swoop in and point out that “congradulations” was spelled “congratulations” and I’d read her comment, stew in a pot of “fuck her for being so right,” for five minutes and then move on.
Point is, she was correct, every time.
Then she graciously offered to edit and I desperately needed someone to edit. BNecause without edit thing lke sentense this way happen way.
See, I need an editor.
Fran, no shit, writes for a living. Which I, no shit, admire. She’s snarky on a level I cannot always comprehend. She once told me I made her “see red rats” and I don’t even know what that means. She’s promised to occasionally do a HAFBs posts herself and I cannot wait. She makes me laugh on a level I cannot explain. She also has a macaw*, because, and I quote, “I just want a bird that’s a friend.”
Don’t all of us, really?
We’re still working out the kinks, and I don’t mean kinks as in feather boas and gerbils, but rather how the hell do we do this? Do I email her a word document, load up the post in WordPress as a draft, send it to her via fax, what?
We will get there I’m sure, though.
Finally, I told Fran that I had a funny story to share about her when we were in training together. I was tanked during this discussion which helps explain why it wasn’t that funny at all, but here it goes.
We were in a student-break area when she recounted a time she was camping
with friends. She and a male friend were sitting in the camp, I’m unsure where the other friends were at the time, when a deer retardedly (this really had to be a retarded deer after all) walked into the camp and her male friend reflexively grabbed his rifle and shot it. She told me (or the group, I think it was the group) that she swooned when he did this and I experienced my first “bro-crush.” In my head I remember thinking, “Well, I’m not gay, but that dude’s awesome.”
That’s all I remember. See not that funny at all.
There are a lot of people that I want to talk about (in a good way) on this blog, but Fran gets first crack because she rocks and she has a macaw.
* Come to find out she does NOT have a macaw – even though she said she was getting one … filthy, filthy liar!