A few weeks ago, I celebrated my 31st birthday with friends and
family at a new restaurant/bar in Seattle. While I’m primarily
a beer enthusiast, I do enjoy a fashionable and satisfying mixed
drink once and awhile. Feeling that my birthday merited such an
occasion, I took the liberty to order a Mojito. The minty-rum drink
is nice and smooth, but left me yearning for something more. That’s
exactly what I got.
years ago, I made my first visit to the East Coast for a client
meeting. Id never been to our nations capital and I
was so excited I decided to make the trip into mini-vacation. I
was in D.C. for 3 days and managed to see a few museums and a number
of monumental homages to our Founding Fathers. When it came
time to fly home, I elected to fly out of Baltimore to save a few
bucks. In reflection, that decision could have killed me.
I’m a bit baffled by the increasing popularity of “reality-based”
television shows. Is it the rush generated by a voyeuristic peek
into famous (or unknown) people’s lives? Perhaps a form of
escapism? I tend to be more cynical in my belief that those watching
these shows are Grade A masochists. If my theorem is correct, the
world is full of pain-loving people.
weeks ago, an older man rang my doorbell at 10 p.m. It was a particularly
warm night, so the screen door was open and I could see from a distance
that he had something in his hands that resembled a weapon. Had
he been younger, I would have approached with due caution (and my
five wood), but he seemed harmless enough.
While we at Anvil prefer a good one-liner over robust political
discourse, there comes a time when we feel the need to do our civic
duty. I've decided that this is such a time.
We all know sex sells, but it also pays, very well. The Internet
just happens to be the most prolific medium for smut, thanks to
its cost-effective reach and ease of commerce. Many enterprising
individuals have made a mint developing e-commerce sex-related Web
sites. We all know why sex has such a lure: It's in our DNA.
I'll never forget my first "pocket-sized" electronic game.
I didn't play football as a kid, but on the dark maroon screen with
flashing red lights, I was Lynn Swan. While the game could only
fit in cargo pants-sized pockets, it was still a revolutionary new
concept and a desirable toy for road trips and recess. For this
I thank "Q."
Spiradon "Spin" Nicon was always a popular guy in high
school. The ladies adored him and the guys respected him. He had
a knack for always being in the right place at the right time, and
like the shark, had no natural enemies. He was, of course, Prom
King and class president senior year. But that wasnt what
made him so special...
I cant stand it anymore. The questions, the accusations, the
paternity suits. Its time to clear the air and tell the real
story behind Anvil. Its a long, rocky, itchy, exciting, drunken
and occasionally amusing tale, but one worth telling. For the April
issue, the Anvil staff has put in late nights to help create a detailed
account of Anvils evolution worthy of a PBS airing. So sit
back, relax and get the inside scoop on your favorite ezine.
A few years ago, I was on my way to Mt. Bachelor for a day of powder
skiing with the family, when our car hit a patch of ice. We skidded
off the road at 50 mph, smashed through a fence and rolled over
once or twice before coming to a rest upside down.
When was the last time someone took a liking to you? I recall a
painful, nearly completely repressed memory of Kim Preston taking
a shine to me in seventh grade. My friends told me she thought I
was cute. That sent me into a tizzy for two days. When I finally
mustered the courage to write her a note and hand it over in the
lunchroom admitting interest, I was countered with a very public,
very crushing, It was just a joke, I was just kidding.
I didnt ask anyone else on a date for five long years.
Ive never been all that strong when it comes to the inner-workings
of the English language. While some say I have a certain level of
competence in my writing, the truth is I cant tell the difference
among nouns, verbs or adjectives without reciting appropriate verses
from School House Rocks.