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Everybody’s a dreamer and everybody’s a star. Everybody’s a blogger. Doesn’t matter who they are.

Listen, I’ve been a published writer since I was 16. I wrote an essay and sent it to Newsweek, and they printed it.

From there, I would go on to write for a number of leading regional and national publications. And I would win awards, obelisks, plaques and, best of all, money.

So, you might imagine my chagrin when someone says to me, “Oh, you’re a writer? My cousin Hymie is a writer, too. He has his own blog.”

His own blog. Really? Those are so hard to get. They don’t give blogs to just anyone. Well, actually, they do. So, sorry, but your cousin Hymie isn’t really a writer. He’s a wannabe with spell-check. He’s someone who gives us useless information about his life, his loves and his last blackened chicken sandwich.

You see, anybody can be your cousin Hymie. I’ll show you. Being the celebrity that I am, I thought surely everyone would be interested in the intricate details of my life. So here, for the first time ever, is my blog:

It’s Wednesday. Hump day. LOL. I shower first. Let it be noted that I officially have become the last man in the world to switch from bar soap to body wash. There’s just something about having a fresh cake of Ivory in your hand that makes you feel like a real man. But who am I kidding? I hate Ivory. I used Dove.

The switch to body wash was traumatic for me. It’s just another thing to do in the shower. And I don’t like to spend a lot of time in the shower. I live in fear that I’ll miss a call from a telemarketer. So I started using shampoo and conditioner in one. A stitch in time. And then they came out with shampoo, conditioner and body wash all in one bottle. My prayers were answered.

For me, getting dressed is no small feat. You know when socks start to wear out and they get very stringy inside and one of those strings gets caught between your pinky toe and your toe without a name? We really should come up with a name for that toe. I’ll put that on my toe-do list. LOL. A little foot humor there.

I work at home, so the rest of the routine doesn’t require much thought. Do I want a light gray T-shirt today or a dark gray T-shirt? And should I go with sweat pants or wind pants? The sweatpants are softer and more comfortable, but they don’t have a fly. And that’s a real deal breaker for me. We can put a man on the moon, but we can’t put a fly in a pair of sweatpants. No wonder Hillary lost.

Breakfast today was a true conundrum. I keep my cereals organized by fiber content. And that morning trip to the bathroom will often be decided by which box I reach for. Today, I was stuck between Wheat Waffles and Wheat Squares. To the average person, there’s no difference. But I’m not the average person. Or I wouldn’t have a blog.

Your Wheat Waffles are your thinner version of your Wheat Squares. Therefore, considering the basic tenants of physics, you can get more Wheat Waffles in a bowl. If there’s one thing I demand of my breakfast cereals, it’s efficiency.

Whoop, time to do my exercise program. No remote control for me this year. I have to lose a few pounds. So now I walk to the TV to change the channel. Genius, isn’t it?

To catch up with the world, I flip on my main news source. Damn. Savannah is on vacation. Just my luck. So there’s Matt, good old Matt. How in the world did he ever land a supermodel? Seriously.

Well, that’s it for today’s blog. Tomorrow, I’ll look into one of the world’s most pressing questions: Oikos or Chobani? They’re both Greek to me! ROTFL!

February 2017
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