Random

Speaking of squirrels thanks to a reader for sending this link. We knew squirrels were aspiring burglars and car thieves but now we can add arsonists to the list.

I was certain it wasn’t for laundry. As I was staring at it an extremely nice neighbor came out of his house and politely asked me what I was doing? He solved the mystery. It is actually a fireplace that was added to the kitchen (I think). So it’s a chimney. Pretty cool, yeah? Would you dig a fireplace in your kitchen?

Following is a proper mustache…

Is it their independence day?

Petworth resident and PoP contributor Eric Nuzum‘s latest book is out in paperback this month. It’s called The Dead Travel Fast: Stalking Vampires From Nosferatu to Count Chocula. As the title would indicate, it’s about vampires–as well as death, chickens, fear, things that smell bad, the love of a good woman, and germs…but mostly it is about Eric’s attempts to understand why the undead are such a perennial favorite for people around the world. The book is available in bookstores or from Amazon. Eric will be doing one reading in DC this fall, October 30th (the night before Halloween) at the Barnes and Noble in Georgetown. I know it sounds trite but there multiple times I laughed out loud when reading this book. It is a quick read and hilariously captures this wild world of vampires and those who are obsessed with them.  I thought it’d be interesting to hear what it’s like promoting a book.  

Kiss Me, I’m (Really Not That) Famous

by Eric Nuzum

Let me describe a scene:

I’m riding the Metro to work last fall when some guy looks up from his copy of Express and stares at me.

Then he looks back at their paper. Then back at me. Then back at the paper. Then…well, you get the point.

The guy on the metro was having his mind blown–realizing that the dude he was reading about in the paper was the same dude squeezed into a Red Line train in front of him. Usually the non-celebrities featured in newspaper photos are those cutting ribbons at construction sites, kids who’ve won spelling bees, and people who have done things they will regret for a very long time.

However, I am not one of those people. I write books.

What does this mean? It means for a week or two every year or so, I am the flaky crust about to fall off the outermost layer of fame. I’m on radio, TV, and print, like the Express feature. You’d think this would be glamorous and exciting. I’m not going to lie to you, it is really a bonafide thrill to see something you’ve slaved over published. You are a “Published Author.” Most people assume this comes with a degree of dignity and respect.

It does not. 

Since I’ve become a Published Author, quite a few people have asked me what it’s like to be famous. I reply that I haven’t a clue, but I think I’ve grasped what it must be like to be the first contestant tossed off Project Runaway or the week’s third inbred meth-fueled car thief featured on Cops: a temporary minor celebrity – fame with all the satisfaction and staying power of a cup of Ramen noodles.  Story continues after the jump. (more…)

Surely Frederick Douglass should have a museum. No doubt. I’m just questioning the need for a “Hall of Fame For Caring Americans”. C’mon, we Americans are better than this…