Finding a WordPress Theme is Like Picking Out Candles (and Hemingway Sucks)

“Fauna” or “Benevolence”? How to decide? It’s bad enough I have to smell cookies baking from the soft glow of my wife’s candle in the kitchen without actally EATING cookies. Now I have to smell test my blog theme? What does “Benevolence” smell like, anyway? Or “Green”? My guess is a lot like armpits and raw vegetables.

I ended up picking “Hemingway”, which looks like it belongs to Darth Vader, not a closet case who blew his brains out. But, he (Hemingway, not Darth) was a writer (much as I despise the Lost Generation and their expatriot, post-war, self-indulgent malaise–John Steinbeck would kick their asses!) So am I. Kind of. I mean I AM. Really. I’m a playwright, and I have the $2.38 royalty check to prove it!

Writers write. So I will. Occasionally I will talk about my plays, if there is a reason to do so. But mostly I’m going to write what’s on my mind, for nobody in particular. Off the top of my head I came up with such subjects as “Being Underemployed Isn’t Funny Anymore”, “Inappropriate Behavior in Applebees”, “How Catholicism Made Me the Underachiever I am Today,” and “Balding–the ‘Choice’ God Made for You.” Boy, I wish I were you guys! My dream is to have said enough funny/entertaining/bearable things to collect them into a 99 cent Kindle book, so I can make maybe $3.61 more. You will NEVER see ads on my page! Unless someone asks me–I’m too nice a guy to say no. Oh, and if I made a spelling mistake, PLEASE bring it to my attention. It’s what I deserve, and it makes you look super smart.

Welcome to my mind…. No, I didn’t mean it, it’s so hard to be ironic in print.

My play website is I have two plays on Kindle, “Next Year in Jerusalem” and “The Measure of a Man”. Please buy these and come back. That means you, Mary El! (my wife, and probably my only reader at this point–one less candle can buy you a real live play!)

Here’s sneak preview:

Relatively Cute Applebees Waitress: Can I you get you guys anything else?
My 8-Year-Old: Oral sex.
(moment of awkward silence, everyone staring)
My 8-Year-Old: What? I said Oreos, XX.

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