I need to tattoo this on the inside of my eyelids.
I’ve never thought of myself like this, but someone just reccomend me on LinkedIn:
Details of the Recommendation: “Let’s face it LinkIN, modern political writers are boring and straightlaced. In the good ole days, reporters all had a little gonzo Hunter Thompson in them. They drank too excess. They cursed and swore in public. They hung out at seedy establishments, etc. I’m not saying Jeff is any of these things but, he is a pretty entertaining writer. If there is a ever a cocaine & gay sex scandal involving the Colorado state GOP, Jeff will report on it and say something hilarious. In fact, aren’t we overdue for a cocaine & gay sex scandal with the Colorado state GOP?”
This is the third or fourth time I’ve had someone compare my political commentary to Hunter Thompson, which is cool and all, except I’m not sure I really like the guy. He once threatened to run a million dollar campaign against a candidate I was working for. Seemed like kind of a jerk, but then maybe that’s an apt comparison?
Dear god, please let there be a cocaine and gay sex Colorado GOP scandal. I’m not sure how Hunter S. Thomspon-esque you are, but I know you’d report the hell out of that.
well not yet…
If we still lived in the same town, we would be drinking together right now.
But someone just called me from a number I do not recognize and left a message, so now I have to listen to 5 voicemails to get to the one that may be important.
They are (as I listen to the first five seconds, skip, and delete):
And the voicemail that made me listen to everything was from Biscuits and Bath, offering me 3 free days of doggie daycare. SCORE.
That’s all. Now I don’t have to listen to my voicemail for at least another month.
I swear it’s what all the cool kids are doing.
Because she’s having a little girl named Pippa (hopefully some time this week) and duh. That’s my new password.