Over!! The!!! Edge!!!!!!

I can’t tell you how delighted I am to announce that my husband’s new job includes his very own weekly newspaper column!  Some of his favorites will be reprinted on his blog.  Today, you can find out why I married him:   because no other man can write about The Ratpocalypse quite like this.




  1. Two writers! Did you meet at College? Argue over Goethe? Compete to write the edgiest papers??
    Your sweet plug for hubby is adorbs.
    The rats were really hilarious, but the serial killer article was fascinating.
    You clearly have never had a fluffy Ninja cat like our “Misty”, whom we don’t deserve. We revere her. We didn’t care that much about her at first and left her outdoors to deal with Line-backer sized raccoons in Mill Valley. She could scale a redwood in seconds. Her closest brushes with death were in L.A with the feral cats of San Marino–where there is no forest, and her poor life was lined in concrete. I think those hideous cats were part of an Asian gang. All of us roundly and equally hate L.A.
    Oh– and no rats here either.
    Misty now holds court on our couch whenever she feels like it.
    Please don’t be disgusted by my shoddy grammar.

    • We did meet in college (but I’m two years ahead of him in school, so we didn’t have too many classes together). I don’t recall arguing too much about literature. It’s funny, just last night we were talking about how many things we’ve come around about, and how in so many cases we’ve even switched sides, and argue the opposite of what we used to think with each other. But the one thing we just can’t get around is Frank Sinatra. It’s one of those topics we just have to stay away from. We’re not mad, it’s just that there is not and never will be any truth and reconciliation about Frank Sinatra.

      • Ricardo and I ended up in College together too. We went to a beautiful little college named Westmont in Montecito. We were married at that point, and I ended up sporting a big pregnant belly. I probably should have glued my wedding band to my forehead, I got so many double takes.
        In our case, I had to proof all of Ricardo’s papers, which wasn’t that many. He couldn’t understand my willingness to get into the heads of dead old British authors any more than I could make sense of accounting, The Spanish have a few reasons to be skeptical about the British. Their equivalent to S.O.B is “un hijo de la Gran Bretania.” Lol,
        Sinatra? That’s a tough one. I’ve been poisoned against some of that old, stylized Hollywood glam . I can take him or leave him, but he did end up with that lounge lizardy Vegas vibe at the end, so maybe you’re both right!

  2. I second Anna Lisa’s comments about you and The Jerk. How fun it would be to be friends with you two!

    Now how do I sign up for updates to his blog? Too funny to miss out on.

  3. Dangit, WHY?! Why did you have to point me to another talented and witty writer? I don’t get enough sleep as it is! Please send coffee.

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