Janet Sumner Johnson
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Do-It-Yourself: Building a Luck Pool

Dec

13, 2010 |

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After multiple requests that I share my luck, I feel that Christopher at Notes From the Underground has the right idea about sharing the secret of building your own ‘Luck Pool.’

It’s the whole teach-a-man-to-fish idea. And since I won’t always be there to send my extra lucky vibes to everyone, you better build your own.

So here are the instructions.*

  1. Identify a body part that you think is unique or the bees knees (and please don’t tell me where it is . . . I’m not sure I want to know). Ex: Double-jointed thumbs; A second toe that’s longer than the first; Those pointy-tipped ears; Whatever.
  2. Dip that spot in green ink. Don’t wash it off. Just let it wear off on its own. (I still recommend that you shower and stuff like that, because otherwise, that’s just gross. Just don’t TRY to scrub it off)
  3. Build up good karma. Ex: Hug a tree; Put coins into expired meters (just make sure there’s a car there . . . and I think you get bonus karma if you see a meter maid nearby); Refrain from yelling cuss words at the jerk who cuts you off; . . . you get the idea.
  4. Find a four-leaf clover. I know, you’re scoffing at this, thinking ‘that’s just an old wives tale,’ but I found one when I was a kid. And look at my luck. Just sayin’.
  5. Wait for the bounties to shower down upon you. They typically come in threes, so don’t greedily be expecting more once you get them. You have to let the luck build back up.

And voila, you are the proud owner of your very own ‘Luck Pool.’ Go and use it wisely.

*The writer of this blog makes no promises for the effectiveness of each individual ‘Luck Pool’ that is created and cannot be held accountable in the case that the ‘Luck Pool’ is defective or in rare, unfortunate cases actually decreases a person’s luck. Should you choose to follow the instructions, you do so at your own risk, and shall be solely responsible for any undesirable effects that may be produced.

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You Showed Me!

Apr

29, 2010 |

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I can’t remember why Brandt was mad, but here’s the conversation:

Brandt:  I’m mad at you mom!

Me:  It’s dinner time. Come eat.

Brandt:  I’m NOT eating!

Me:  Fine. Come watch the rest of us eat, because it’s dinnertime and you will sit with us.

Brandt:  [arms crossed, sending daggers my way, stomps to the table] I’m NOT . . .

Then he saw what was on his plate. He threw me a furious look and tried again.

Brandt:  I’m ONLY eating my fish, and my broccoli, and drinking my drink. That’s ALL I’m eating!

Me:  Okay, Brandt. You win. You just eat that.

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