BlabberMouse

Ride Me, Big Boy!

I try not to judge.

I really do.

But there are limits.

And when I see a grown man, decked out in a helmet, peddling down the street on a recumbent bicycle, the seat of which is only eleven inches off the ground, my inner jury slaps down a verdict faster than you can say 40-year-old virgin.

What is UP with that?

It's like a unicycle had sex with a wheelchair.

I did a little research in an attempt to understand this phenomenon, and found a web site that explains the advantage of riding this type of ... apparatus.

It reads: "Because the rider is seated in a comfortable reclining position, pressure on the groin area is greatly reduced."

This is a euphemism, of course, for: "Because the rider has elected to broadcast the fact that he is a COMPLETE AND TOTAL NERD, no woman will want to get in his pants. EVER."

Her Blog is Here, Well Actually It's There

As a companion to the monthly column in Her Nashville, I'll be writing a weekly blog for their online magazine as well, which will be posted on Fridays. You can read the first post (a follow up to "Coming Clean") here.

I'm With Her

Quick Newsflash before I go to work:

The premiere issue of Her Nashville hits the stands today; you can pick up your free copy wherever you find the City Paper. So if you're in the Nashville area, run out and get you one. It's pink, and it's wonderful, and I say the word HELL in it.

(Also amusing, opposite my column is a big ad congratulating the lovely and talented (can't say a bad word about this girl) Taylor Swift on all of her accomplishments. She is clutching a blue guitar and smiling rather tightly. I don't think she likes me.)

Planned Giving

Someone told me that if you check the Organ Donor box on the back of your driver's license, medical personnel are more likely to let you die if an accident leaves you clinging to life.

Surely this is an urban legend, right? Because I am not comfortable with this information at all. Talk about kicking a lady when she's down.

I signed up online to be an organ donor a few years ago, but today I noticed that I hadn't checked the little box on the back of my license, specifying  the type of "anatomical gift" I wish to make.

After seeing the WHOLE BODY option, I got to thinking I might like to specify a smaller anatomical gift. Because I mean, WHOLE BODY? Isn't that kind of over-the-top, considering I don't even know the person I'm giving it to?

At the same time, I don't want to seem cheap.

What do you think would be the organ equivalent of like a really nice hostess gift? A gift that says “I don’t know you ... but thanks for having me?”

I guess it just depends what statement you want to make. For example, if I wanted to give them something really thoughtful, then my brain would be the obvious choice. But then they'd also be pumped if I gave them my heart. Or I could go the neighborly route, and give them a hand. Or play it cool, and give them some skin.

I'm killing myself.

Wait, not really. Put the scalpel down! Jesus. 

It's strange. I haven't even figured out what I'm going to give my mom for her birthday in two weeks. And yet, here I am, thinking about some hypothetical strangers, and wondering if in the end, I’ll be able to say I gave them my all.

10 Things I Just Need to Accept About Myself

1. I should only wear black.
2. Not pink.
3. Or green.
4. Or, God forbid, red.
5. Not preppy patterns. Or bohemian prints.
6. I am happy in black. And thus,
7. When shopping, to save time, I should reach only for clothes that are black, or
8. Black, or
9. If I'm feeling particularly daring ...
10. BLACK.