Breaktime.

I’m guessing saying “I’m on hiatus” sounds better than “my mom took away my laptop.” 

After 3800 posts, I decided to take a break. Forgive me for waiting 13 months to write this, but when I put my mind to something, I dive fully in, and in this case I went radio silent. At a certain point, my friend Sharon called to make sure I was still alive. Thank you, Sharon. 

When I feel the impulse, I’ll post again. Visit my Instagram page in the meantime for a scaled-down version of my career/life. And as always, thanks so much for reading.

The Fright Before Christmas.

My Lifetime movie, Her Secret Family Killer, is airing again today on Lifetime Movie Network at 4 p.m. It’ll be the most violent Christmas Eve experience next to shopping at Kohl’s.

Look Into My Childhood.

Peeing in the snow makes me thankful they taught cursive in school. 

My trip here always takes me way back, to sleeping in my old bedroom with the ground covered in snow. When I was a kid, I’d wake up and could tell something was different – the sound outside was muffled – and I’d jump out of bed, look out the very same window and know school was cancelled. 

Then it was on. I grew up next to a golf course, with a steep decline on the ninth hole that was perfect for sledding. It included a treacherous area we referred to as “Suicide Hill.” 

The stretch in the middle is the ninth hole. Upper right corner dropping into the sand traps: Suicide Hill. Mess you up.

Warm Welcome.

If you arrive home, it’s not a holiday, and the driveway is full of family member’s cars, keep going – it’s an intervention. 

Well, it is a holiday, and there are no cars, so bullet dodged. Good to be back.

Cleared For Takeoff.

If you’re going to a medical facility to get the COVID vaccine, make sure you bring a valid form of ID along with a printout of your pro basketball stats. 

The rest of us must still get tested, especially if we’re traveling to New York, which I am tomorrow. My rapid test was negative, and I will now spend the next 12 days back east. 

While I won’t enjoy my traditional holiday in New York (Broadway and bars are shut down), it’ll be nice to change up my routine again. I got a taste of it Thanksgiving week in Dallas, and I’m hooked. 

I’ll miss Ricky. His head’s been inexplicably smelling like McDonald’s table syrup lately, and I can’t stop kissing it. He gets to go to his happy place – the fancy kennel – tonight. And for me, there’s already 10 inches of snow on the ground in New York. A white Christmas without the burden of shoveling. See you there.

A Testimonial.

Whenever I do a Zoom chat with a woman I’m dating, I’ll dare her to show me hers if I show her mine. Then we both lower our cams to see each other’s dogs. 

But since the quarantine began, my dog, and me, for that matter, looked murky at best. I tried every light source I could blind myself with, but nothing worked. Then it hit me: it’s not the lighting – it’s the camera inside my MacBook that’s shit. You can’t fool me for more than nine months. 

I researched like crazy and found an external camera for 54 bucks that is literally the difference between night and day. The NexiGo FHD. Simply plug in and play. 

I will say the dark and blurriness did have its advantages. I can no longer secretly each bowls of macaroni and cheese during calls. Four out of five stars.

Somebody’s Been Nice.

I always felt like Hello Kitty should be a brand of condoms. 

Or a kickass gift. On line at FedEx yesterday, I noticed someone was shipping what I presume was a giant Hello Kitty head. Which means this Christmas, some little girl is going to be very happy. Or some little boy very confused.