Well hello there.
Summer is officially here.
Summer vacation season is in full bloom.
Which means everyone suddenly has a personality.
And a hot take.
On everything.
Camping.
Glamping.
Van-lifing.
Paddleboarding.
Pickleballing.
Every “ing” imaginable.
It’s a no for me.
If I’m sleeping outside, something has gone horribly wrong.
My idea of roughing it is staying at a Hilton.
I don’t care about the stereotypes.
I’m keeping my lesbian card.
It’s from REI.
The World Cup is also in full swing.
Which means millions of Americans have become overnight soccer experts after watching approximately thirty-seven seconds of highlights.
“You’re not Roy Kent, Tom.
You have no idea how extra time works.”
Buddy…
Yesterday you thought offsides was a dating app.
Know your strengths.
Mine are brunch.
…moving on.
I’ve been thinking a lot this week.
Not in an existential, “buy a cabin in Montana and disappear off the grid” kind of way.
I like DoorDash way too much for that.
More in an, “I’m productive, I have ADHD, and somehow opened seventeen tabs without remembering why” kind of way.
I watched an interview with Kevin Smith this week.
A few years ago he had a massive heart attack and nearly died.
He said it made him realize life is too short.
He doesn’t spend time talking about things he dislikes anymore.
But he can happily spend hours talking about the things he loves.
That one stuck with me.
A friend asked me this week what I’d do if I won one of those ridiculous billion-dollar lottery jackpots.
Honestly…
Lots of Botox.
Your girl’s getting a little jowly.
Is this thing on?
I’ll be here all week.
Moving on.
I’d pretty much do exactly what I’m doing now.
I’d still do stand-up.
I’d still write.
I’d still create weird little projects just because they sound fun.
I’d buy back all the body parts I’ve mortgaged over the years.
“Yes, Ted… I’d like my spleen back.”
My dream retirement is…
More work.
Just with a little more boug.
Better snacks.
A few upgrades.
Okay…
A lot of upgrades.
I’d fly first class on a 27-minute flight.
Not for the legroom.
For the free mimosa.
“Ms. Winkelman, today’s mimosa features hand-milked passion fruit, harvested seasonally by officers of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police.”
“Wonderful.”
“I’m getting subtle notes of maple syrup…
…with just a whisper of Grey Poupon.”
“Thank you, Dave Foley.”
“Would you fluff my mask and massage my spleen when you get a chance?”
I would absolutely give my friends a million dollars.
Just one tiny condition.
I get to hire professional entertainers to follow you around
…….everywhere
….For a Year
Monday…
A Riverdance troupe while you’re picking up your dry cleaning.
Tuesday…
Dueling bagpipers while you’re having lunch with your mom.
Wednesday…
An improv troupe performing an intense custody battle behind you while you’re ordering Starbucks.
Thursday…
Roast comics.
You’re just trying to buy toothpaste and someone yells,
“Tanya, your teeth are so yellow, skip the Crest and try a Tide Pod.”
You’re Welcome!
