tandoori chicken | OldDogNewTits

Yes, that’s right. Just one year ago today, I wrote a blog post …

… then sweated buckets about it, sent proofs to half a dozen people, second guessed myself, ate a pound of cheese and drank a bottle of wine contemplating it, considered scrapping the whole thing, third guessed myself, cried quietly, berated myself in front of the mirror …

… and hit publish.

It’s been a very interesting first year. CLICK ON THE IMAGE BELOW to see just a few of the highlights in my scrapbook.

If you’re interested in reading some of the stories in this scrapbook, I’ve included the links for you at the end of this post. Because I understand lazy. And I know I would NEVER bother to look them up on my own. And I’m assuming that, if you read this blog, you’re probably lazy like me. So I did your heavy lifting for you today.

Thanks to all of you for riding shotgun with me the past year. Here’s to year number two!

The Posts that Inspired ‘Things You Read About on ODNT (2011-12)’

Man Boobs Quiz & Answers *
Hoarder on Wheels
Naked Mole Rats Introduction & Tweeting Spree
Norma Stitz *
Bitchy Barbies Introduction, Playdate & Acquisition
Red Hair Dye Phobias
Drug Hallucinations
Tumor Look-a-like Contest *
The AMC Letters: One, Two, Three & Four
Bag Balm
Just Say No to Saving the Earth
Paging Mr. Baldwin: The Appeal & The Response
Hunger Games Prequel
My Junior Novel (maybe)
How does one say Goodbye to a Toilet?
A Hairy Day at Disney World
A Cow named Michele
Creating a New Identity for my Class Reunion
When Johnny Depp came to my BBQ
Spray Cheese Delivered to your Door
Things You Learn While Drinking Wine
A Bloody Good Idea for Next Summer
The Hamster’s Going to Need a Lot of Therapy

* These posts have been deleted for undisclosed reasons. And, for the record, it is NOT because I’ve been served with restraining orders from John Travolta, Norma Stitz and Homer Simpson.

Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner? (Hint: Johnny Depp)

Happy Fourth of July!

Trifecta challenged us to compose something between 33 & 333 words using the word and definition below. Honestly, I think I may have cheated a little since Mr. Depp did the writing for me.

FIREWORKS (noun)

3: plural
a : display of temper or intense conflict
b : a spectacular display <the fireworks of autumn leaves>

* * * * * * * * * *

Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner?

* * * * * * * * * *

Dear Michele,

Yes, it’s true. Vanessa and I have split. This business of living on two continents and a private island has been difficult for years. And, quite frankly, when she caught me reading a website called “Old Dog, New Tits” … well, you can imagine the fireworks, right?

I tried explaining to her that we’re just friends. I told her we first met in 1990 and didn’t even really get to know each other until ’93. And she said, “What about Jump Street, Johnny? Or getting sucked into the bed during your Nightmare? She didn’t like THOSE, Johnny?” Of course, I shouted back that NOBODY liked those. I told her that you laugh at me every time we talk about those little blasts from the past … and that you call them my “Macchio years.” But she didn’t think it was funny.

So now, Lily, Jack and I are flying in for the 4th and we were wondering if you, Dave and the kids had any plans. Would it be alright if we tagged along? I promise to make my Tandoori Chicken. Yes, and the grilled corn, too.

Oh, and before I forget, I wanted to let you know how much I’ve been enjoying the blog. It’s such a great way to keep up with you guys. I promise I’ll get around to finally writing that guest post we talked about. And, yes, I know I just split an infinitive. That’s exactly the reason I’m afraid to write for you, you big grammar nerd. 🙂

Anyway, let’s talk soon. Let me know if you need anything else for Wednesday. The kids can’t wait to see you!

Johnny

P.S. Do you think Mr. Kleinpeter would take the kids on another tour of the dairy farm while we’re in town? Lily is sooooo jealous that you have a calf named after you. And Jack’s really looking forward to milking a cow. Ask Virginia if she and her kids want to come with us again. I’ll treat for lunch after.

* * * * * * * * * *