Dan Liebke’s Astonishing Tales

New Year’s Resolution! This year I’m definitely getting the laser eye surgery. I’m sick of not having laser eyes.

Like an idiot, I agreed to step in and take Jasper’s place in Punch! (a stage musical version of Rocky with the characters reimagined as various fruits and vegetables of the world). It wasn’t until I slipped the costume over my head that I realised things were, inevitably, about to go totally pear-shaped.

I don’t enjoy predicting doom for local graffiti artistes but, let’s face it, the writing has been on the wall for some time now.

The best part of the whole wedding thing is not the gathering of loved ones to drunkenly celebrate the union of two lovers in life-long partnership. Nor, for that matter, is it the bit when the groom says a stripper’s name instead of his bride’s. (Ha ha ha - still haven’t been forgiven for that). [...]

Y’know what I love? The notion of things being ’so crazy they just might work’. If I was in charge of a research facility trying to unravel cosmic mysteries (such as string theory or the chart-topping success of Macarena), I’d probably eschew the recognised experts in the field and instead go to the local insane [...]

I’ve been told many, many times that I say ’sorry’ too much. “Stop saying sorry!” the furious recipients of my regretful offerings are always shouting at me. And, y’know, they probably have a point. I do say ’sorry’ too much. But, heck, I make no apologies for it.

So my Irish ex-girlfriend climbed on top of a bus and shouted to the world that I had herpes. Boy, was I relieved. For a second, I thought she’d told everybody that I had ‘a hairpiece’.

Given the singleminded focus of some directors, always looking to give their films some extra credibility and Oscar buzz, wouldn’t it make sense for some enterprising young actor to adopt ‘Oscar Buzz’ as their screen name? If nothing else, it would certainly guarantee them plenty of work with those particular Academy Award-craving auteurs.
Y’know, assuming they [...]

I now have over one hundred ‘friends’ on Facebook™. I might be happy with that, except for this inescapable logical fact: 100 friends implies (N-100) enemies where N is ridiculously large.
Comrades, we’re going to need a plan.

I think I’d enjoy coleslaw more if it sounded less like ‘cold sore’. And vice versa, obviously.