If you're looking for the round-robin writing game, Sophie From Shinola, its here.
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I knew what I was going to write about today, but its been stolen from me. Brenda Guiden, who has two brothers, a nephew, an ex-brother-in-law and a friend in prison felt the need to create Prison Expressions, a greeting card company geared toward Incarcerated-Americans. (I made up the Incarcerated-Americans part, but is there any group undeserving of our sympathy and thusly, rating their own hyphenate?) She's created cards for families to send to those in prison; "Yo, Girl, thinking of you". "Mommy, I love you anyway". "Daddy, here's $15.00 for the commissary". There are cards meant for the inmate to send home. "Honey, Stay true". "Send money for smokes". "Sorry I embarrassed you". There are even cards meant for losing lawyers to send to the clients who are now facing 15-25. "It was an honor representing you". "The Judge had it in for you". "The Jury was a bunch of mouth-breathing slackers".
Alas, I had to make up most of the greetings, because Prison Expressions' website has been taken down for some odd reason. I'm loathe to speculate, but is it possible the founders have joined the rest of their family behind bars? Did a beer-fueled brawl break out over who gets the royalties from the cards? Who knows. All I know is that Brenda didn't pay her website bill and cheated me out of a post.
I also had an enrtry in mind about my Bar Mitzvah. Recently, I posted some video of George Harrison's Concert For Bangladesh. At the time (and I'll admit, even now), I thought his suit was the coolest thing EVAR! That's the suit I wanted to wear for my Bar Mitzvah. Really. Alas, boys on the verge of turning 13 are inately unable to tell their parents the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth about any subject whatsoever. I told Mom I wanted a white suit for my Bar Mitzvah and left it at that without further explanation. In hindsight, I know I could have just said, "You, know, the one like George Harrison wore", and I might have gotten exactly what I had in mind. But, no. I had to pretend it was an original idea without any outside influence. So, Mom called Great-Aunt-What's-her-name in Miami and I ended up with a horrible white suit that made me look like an out-of-work, Maitre-De. It was horrible. It had a wierd texture that looked like corrugated metal for non-skid stair steps. I can't find a link to a picture of the metal I'm talking about and I can't find a picture of me in the horrible suit. So, I can't write about the horrible suit.
As most of you know, I've been trying to convert a DVD that includes my adorable 4-year-old self to a format that will allow me to show it to you all. So far...Fail!
So, all of my well-laid plans are coming to naught this morning. But on the other hand, I've got a firmly established tradition of telling you guys what I'm not going to tell you about.
So...score! This blogging is really easy when you make sure expectations are low.
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