Quick to Anger, Slow to Rise

I'm a little sad about missing my high school reunion. Instead of drinking red wine in an air-conditioned hotel with people I hardly know, I'll be at an outdoor wedding, fanning myself with both hands and making awkward small talk with people I hardly know. At least at the reunion I'd get to wear a nametag. It's much easier to fake small talk if you can guess a person's name. If there's a lull you can just repeat the other person's name over and over until they cock an eyebrow and leap desperately into a new topic of conversation.

Por ejemplo: You still live in town? Really, that's nice. Hot enough for you? Ha, good one. So, John. John, John, John, John, John...

Eventually the other party *should* -- unless they're more socially inept than you -- pick up the thread and run with it. But only because they're sad and embarrassed for you, and they can't get away. It's not that they actually care. Better conversation through guilt, that's my motto.

I came up with a new phrase today: ass butter.

Wait'll you hear it in a sentence. It'll blow your ever-lovin' mind.

In other news, a co-worker and I went to Merriam Webster's website and I made my page phonetically pronounce "butter" and he made his say "ass" and we timed it so that it sounded like the dictionary voice man was saying "ass butter."

The end.

PS I'm drinking wine from North Carolina that tastes like fruit punch and mixed nuts. Pass it on.