I HAVE NO TIME TO HASTILY WRITE AN INTRO, I AM SORRY, I HAVE TO GO TO BOOK CLUB.
January 30th:
What would you title the chapters
of your autobiography?
Yeahhhhhhhhh I don’t wanna do this one, not for like personal sad reasons or anything but because it…seems a little Live Laugh Love to me, a LITTLE Etsy-burlap barn-wedding for a hedge fund manager and a Sephora franchisee. No offense to whoever wrote it, I’m not saying it’s a bad prompt or anything, it’s just not my speed.
I asked Google for a writing prompt and she said “After traveling back in time, this great white shark is going to learn a valuable lesson about acceptance and hope.” I swear to you on the life of my cat and my replica of Andúril, the Flame of the West, that I did not make that up. Also, I’m not wasting that on a blog post; that’s going STRAIGHT in the Loose D&D Ideas folder in Evernote. It was becoming apparent that I’d have to somehow come up with my…own…idea??? Is that even a thing? That sounds fake.
THANKFULLY, before I could be driven to such extremes, something absolutely bonkers happened on the primary family thread:
![a text thread with a picture showing a little person-shaped block with a man in shorts and a yellow shirt; the text message says "every time the boys play with these blocks, they insist that this is [THE BAGELER]](https://i0.wp.com/itsthebageler.com/wp-content/uploads/2023/01/img_5285.jpg?resize=608%2C1024&ssl=1)
THAT’S RIGHT: The small boys to whom I am legally grandfather but functionally occupy more of an uncle position picked THE COOLEST BLOCK TO REPRESENT ME in their Tiny Congress Of Yelling And Saying Poop. Never have I been so honored, never have I looked less like a thing that symbolizes me, except I guess when I used that mahjong piece as a minifig when I played 4e D&D; I and my character resembled that peacock in many ways, including magnificence, volume, odds of finding me wandering around a random Van Nuys lawn, and having talons that do 1d6 slashing damage.
Before anyone asks, no, I do not smoke and have never smoked in front of a child, lest they (correctly) feel uncool by comparison. And so it remains A MYSTERY, probably never to be solved, so you can delete that email to Robert Stack.
NOW IF YOU’LL EXCUSE ME: It is time for book club, where I’m gonna get to yell about two snakes named Martha and George! Life is good. Rats are delicious.
–The Bageler