What a Mouthful

It’s time for a classic Wojo’s World. Enjoy this popular column from a couple of years ago.

I learned a lot from the pop music of the 1980s.

You can wear your sunglasses at night. (I actually tried this in 7th or 8th grade when the song was out, and in retrospect, not only did I look like a goof, but it also made it really hard to see. But, I digress…)

You can dance if you want to. You can leave your friends behind. That didn’t seem nice, though, because if you’re dancing, you usually want your friends around, right?

Unless you’re in a really bad music video where everyone is headed to the Renaissance Faire. Then, I’m guessing, you probably want them as far away from you as possible.

I also learned about Australia from the band Men at Work. The amazing information that I gleaned from this fun bunch of guys?

That Australia is called “Down Under.” (Yeah, sure, now everyone knows this, but back then we were young and naïve and hooked on MTV.)

It’s also referred to—at least in the song—as the “land of plenty.”

Sound like a great place to go, right?

Well, then, there’s also Vegemite.

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What’s That All A-Bot?

It’s time for a classic Wojo’s World. Enjoy this popular column from a couple of years ago.

I am not a robot.

People who have met me in person can attest to this fact. Well, most of them can anyway.

In fact, the closest I’ve ever gotten to being a robot was during the ‘80s when I attempted to do the dance called “The Robot.” And it was not pretty. Take my word for it.

Yet recently, a social media site, we’ll call it BookFace, decided that I was exactly that—a robot.

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Playing Chicken

It’s time for a classic Wojo’s World. Enjoy this popular column from a couple of years ago.

I’ve been writing this column for over a decade. Often, friends and readers say, “Did that really happen?”

And I respond, “Life is hilarious. You just can’t make this stuff up.”

Thus begins this week’s column…

I was recently coming out of an office building after a professional meeting. My assistant was with me. I was walking to the car, and I got about halfway across the parking lot, when I noticed something walking across it, going in the opposite direction.

It was a chicken.

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Different Is as Different Does

To say that I’m different is a bit of a cliche. After all, unless you’re part of identical twins, triplets, etc., we’re all different.

But some of my actions are different from most folks. If they don’t make me different, they probably make me weird. And if you read this column regularly, you already know that.

As does my husband, Brad, who has been known to roll his eyes when I say that I like doing certain things.

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The Bloody Truth

I have friends in England and Wales, and I love when they use the term “bloody” in place of your average curse word. I would get a lot of mileage out of that.

But my reference to “bloody” actually refers to the stuff flowing through your veins right now.

Clunk…oh, sorry. I believe I bloody fainted there for a minute. I’ve just never been good with the sight of blood.

So imagine all the fun I have when I need to get routine bloodwork. Yeah, think about that.

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A View from a Writer’s Brain

Years ago, a guy asked me if he could shadow me for a day. He was interested in what a writer does, and he wanted to watch me.

Unlike other professions where shadowing can help and get someone excited about a profession, writing is not quite that. Or at least that’s what I told him at the time. But something happened to me recently that showed me how interesting—and quite weird—writing can be.

Or at least what happens when two of us get talking…

It all started in the middle of the night when I got up to use the bathroom. I know this isn’t where the most exciting of stories begins, but this is where mine does.

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Stop the Stalking Already!

Remember back in the day, when you could make an appointment—any kind of appointment—and you would write it in your calendar?

Then, you know, you’d show up. Easy Peasy.

Not anymore. 

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Why I Both Love and Loathe Men

Since college, I’ve always had a lot of male friends. I also have female ones, but men are fun to hang around with because of one thing: most of them aren’t into drama.

For example, if guys get into an argument, they may scream at the top of their lungs, stomp around and slam doors, and even get into a fist fight if they’re young (or sometimes if they’re older and just haven’t grown up yet). 

It’s loud. It’s ugly. It’s scary.

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