Noises In My Brain

If you're wondering when my next hee-larious bit will appear at Huffington Post, you're not alone. I'm wondering the same thing.

I sent in my latest days ago, but it has yet to appear. I've asked my blogeditor several times what's up, but she isn't answering my mails.

Have I fucked up this gig already?

The new post is a bit rougher than the last one, which was, let's admit, about a step or two away from Dave Barry-ville or Erma Bombeck-land. Maybe that's what HuffPo wants from me -- quirky posts where no one gets hurt. I don't know. Without the feedback, I'm left to guess. And when I'm left to guess, I get slightly crazy and start projecting all kinds of shit that has little or no contact with objective reality, and then I smear strawberry jam on my face and go out into the yard and dare wasps and bees to land on me, openly taunting them with "C'mon buzzy! Take your best shot! And bring your hive buddies, too! I got something for all you flying assholes!!!"

Just watch. Now that I've raised a stink about this, HuffPo will pub my piece, just to make me look nuts. I'm beginning to see their plan . . .