#1 — On September 7, 2005, I ran my first blog “poll” in a post titled “Be My Editor.” I proposed six story ideas that I should write and asked you to vote for one. The aim was to prove that I was a professional and could write an article “on time.” The winning choice was for me to go on a tour of the L. Ron Hubbard Museum at the Scientology Center in Hollywood. A few days later, my father passed away. I completely forgot about this post and never wrote the piece — and it was almost two years ago!
#2 — On January 14, 2007, Tamarika “won” a date with me by bidding for charity. She paid more money than I ever would for a date with myself. I made all these promises to her to show her a good time, even if it meant flying to Philadelphia. And so far, zilch. I haven’t even offered her any phone sex.
#3 — On April 25, 2007, I promised the first reader who buys Crazy Aunt Purl’s upcoming book a special gift — a washcloth “handknit” by ME! I wasn’t really that interested in learning to knit. The real aim was to win favor with Crazy Aunt Purl and get to see her in her self-crocheted knickers. The winner of this contest was Psychomom. But after the contest, did I ever knit that washcloth? Have I even taken a step to LEARN how to make a washcloth? You can guess the answers.
#4 — On June 28, 2007, I ran a contest where I asked my readers to guess my height and weight. The winner was promised a “Live Blog Ass-Kissing Link/Shoutout” at my blog reading at LA Bloggers Live! The winner was Wendy from “Quiet About a Lot of Things.” After my reading, I finally kept one of my promises. I told the audience members to check out one of my favorite bloggers, Wendy from Quiet About a Lot of Things at quietaboutalotofthings.com. I was very happy to see a few people jotting down her address. Today, I went to Wendy’s site and the first thing I noticed is that the address I gave was wrong! It is quietaboutalotofthings.blogspot.com!
I suck. Like most men who make promises to women. Tamar, Psychomom, Wendy — I’ll make it up to you the way I always make it up to the women in my life — in the bedroom.
For now, here are some flowers.