There’s one thing about the Kentucky Derby that fascinates me: the names of the racehorses. I call my cat Kitty, so you can see why I might be intrigued.
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“Spring ahead” makes it sound a lot more fun than it is.
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I’m one of those brave souls who regularly tells other people off—when I’m alone in the car on my way home.
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How to gift wrap a million dollar smartphone.
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The best thing I can say about this year is that there was plenty of time to clean all my closets. I didn’t, but I had time to.
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I have to eat every four or five hours if the people I love are going to continue loving me back.
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I racked up 2000 Fitbit steps looking for my phone today. I didn’t find it which means another easy 2000 tomorrow.
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It doesn’t seem right to replace a reliable refrigerator just because it occasionally flings a jar of mustard across the room. Nobody’s perfect.
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A fitness tracker, doesn’t know the difference between a walk you take because you’re highly motivated to get some exercise and one you take because you’re highly motivated to find your car keys.
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This is a story about the importance of being flexible. Or maybe it’s about the dangers of vanity. Or being overly cautious or just plain foolish.
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If Mother Nature didn’t intend us to nap, she wouldn’t have made us so sleepy in the afternoon.
More than 17 million Americans suffer from friggatriskaidekaphobia though they seldom admit it, mainly because they can’t pronounce it.
Here’s a nice way to help your Valentine hear your side of things without having to listen to theirs.
Alcohol allows revelers to forget the worst of the past year and start the new one off just as badly.
I realize I’m late getting my Christmas letter out, but there’s a good reason for that: I’m late writing it
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It’s good to try before you buy—except for groceries. Don’t do that.
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It’s possible I’m seeing some human characteristics in my iPhone, but only because she has them. I press the button, and asked, “Siri, are you human?” She says, “Close enough.”
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I was planning to write an insightful and informative post on the subject of gasbags, being well-acquainted with many and having been called one myself on more than one occasion. But once again, being insightful and informative proved to be too much for me.
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My friend “Martha” tells me she wants to lose 20 pounds and get a really nice tan—by Friday. It’s Wednesday.
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