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  • Space, The Final Frontier…

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    On this day (February 20) in 1962,  John Glenn became the fifth human being to go into space, and the first American to orbit the earth. The journey, lasting 4 hours, 55 minutes, and 23 seconds was accomplished aboard a Mercury space capsule that had been shot upward into the heavens atop an Atlas 6 rocket. The capsule was dubbed Friendship 7.

    I have a model of it. Two, in fact.

    Why?

    Because I almost ended up being named John Glenn Sellars.

    Why?

    Because right about the time Glenn was making history, I was coming into the world.

    Yes. Today is my 49th birthday, so I am taking the day off from blogging (Unless I get a wild hair. You just never know…)

    At any rate, if you REALLY want to get me something, here’s what you can do: Call 10 of your friends and convince them to buy at least one copy each of my books. Paperback, e-book, I don’t care. And if you don’t own my books already,  shame on you. You need to go buy them for yourself as well. Tell your friends that they also need to call 10 of their friends and do the same thing – including telling them to call 10 of their friends, and so on…

    Maybe that sounds selfish and mercenary of me, but hey, it’s my birthday. Give me a break.

    More to come…

    Murv

  • Okay… How About Showtime?

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    If you are a regular follower of B L, you most likely read “You Get HBO On That?”  a few weeks ago. In case you didn’t, or just don’t remember it and are too lazy to click on the link to refresh your memory, it was pretty much a transcript of a conversation I had with my newly 18 year old niece who had just had her nose pierced to celebrate her birthday.

    For the record, I don’t care if she puts holes in her nose, or wherever else for that matter. Same goes for anyone else. However, I’m an uncle, I’m a writer, and I have a bizarre sense of humor. Therefore, it’s a moral imperative that I give my niece trouble. So, all of you pierced and tattooed whackos with email accounts can STOP sending me messages telling me what a bastard I am. If you honestly believe I am discriminating against you – and her – then your brains really DID leak out of those extra holes you poked into yourself.

    Put simply: Slap some Dap ™ Stupid Crack filler on your holes and leave me alone.

    But pointing out to the outraged idiots that they are idiots is not why I’m writing this particular blog entry. Nope. Actually I’m doing it to illustrate a “moral of the story.”

    “What moral is that?” you ask…

    Well, it’s kind of one of those “Fried Green Tomatoes” sort of morals. Remember that now famous line delivered by Kathy Bates?

    “Face it, girls, I’m older and I have more insurance.”

    …It’s sort of like that. In fact, I’m pretty sure it’s a lot like the moral I offered in the original blog on this subject. However, Christmas was upon us, and… Well… Allow me to illustrate. Literally.

    Front

    Top

    Back

    Side 1

    Side 2

    That moral?

    Don’t do something silly, stupid, or otherwise bizarre if you have ME for an uncle. I have money, a copy of Photoshop, a color laser printer, and one hell of an imagination.

    BTW, I didn’t want the other kids to feel left out, so…

    Niece #2 got a “Booger ™” Logoed box containing a cork, carpet needle, and antiseptic wipe, along with instructions on how to pierce her own nose.

    Nephew received a “Booger ™” Logoed box containing a lump of charcoal and instructions on how to make a diamond nose ring.

    Texts and picture messages were flying, let me tell you. Not sure if the rest of the teenagers in Saint Louis think I’m a “Cool Uncle” or a Jackass. Maybe one day they’ll figure out that I’m both…

    More to come…

    Murv