In my fevered rush of self-promotion, I neglected to mention that there are, well, a few other people involved in the creation of the anthology. Some of them even blog. Rob and Ted are the glamorous, highly-paid editors, and the stylish contributors include Alex Chee and Joe.My.God., so that’s four more reasons to buy the anthology. If books by bloggers sell well, it stands to reason that the publishing industry will continue to troll through our backwaters for fresh meat. Which means your own inspired ramblings could get set down in a clean typeface for the masses, and soon David Sedaris will lose sleep at the mere mention of your name. So really, you’re doing yourself a favor by getting the book. Remember, I’m always thinking of you.

In other news, my little brother just got engaged. My. Little. Brother. I got a bit choked-up when he called with the news, and my mind raced with thoughts of little nieces and nephews running underfoot, drooling, stumbling, and calling me Uncle Mike. Thank God someone in my family turned out straight.

I myself am a long ways from walking down the aisle dressed in white. The closest thing I have to a fiancé is my workout partner, with whom I’ve begun…well…something we’re trying not label. It’s an interesting experience, to say the least, and not so easy to put into words. It’s easier to make art out of bad sex. Good sex just ends up sounding like porn. Let’s just say that he challenges my rather tame conception of what a bad boy sex pig does behind closed doors. The word “scalpel,” for example, has traditionally not made me think of hot, dirty sex. But life is full of learning experiences. And I’ve always found scars kinda sexy.

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