PROLOGUE
Friday 5/6/11, 07:00 a.m.
www.mad-mari.com/2011/05/06/friday-contest
Happy Friday!
Those of you who are regulars here at Mad-Mari.com know I
belong to the I-love-Fridays cult. Not just because it’s
the end of the work week (except for me, the unemployed,
but more on that later) but because it’s my favorite day
here on the blog. Every Friday, I invite you to share tales
of your bad dates from last weekend, and we all get to
spend the day thinking how great it is that ours aren’t the
only love lives that suck. Wahoo!
You know the drill, just leave a comment, describing how
bad things were on your last date. Most entertaining story—
decided solely by me, ‘cause, I am master of this here e-
universe—gets an autographed copy of my new book.
Now, a bit of good news for me, which might be bad news for
you, depending on how much you like to hang out here on my
blog. Tomorrow, I actually have a job interview. For a real
job. In the real world. ACK!
Okay, it’s not permanent—just a summer gig. But I can’t
tell you how much I need it. To answer the question before
you ask—no, my two books have not made me rich. Some men
just don’t seem to get my humor, plus I have a lot of
student loans to pay off. (And no, for the last time, I’m
not telling you where I went to school, or what I studied.
Trust me. It’s boring.)
I plan to spend the day getting prepped—touching up the
resume, brushing up on interview etiquette, plucking my
eyebrows. (Ow!) So you all feel free to talk about those
bad dates and I’ll check in late tonight, okay?
PS: Thought for the day: Is it better to be unemployed and
happy, or have a good-paying job you hate? Discuss!
#####
Friday 5/6/11, 11:15 p.m.
www.mad-mari.com/2011/05/06/friday-contest
Comment # 114
Promised I’d check in! I’m about to hit the hay but wanted
to choose a winner from today’s sucky-date contest.
Rachel from Boston wins an autographed copy of one of my
books. Sorry to everyone else who entered, but I can’t even
imagine what it was like to go on a date with a crazy dude
whose opening line was, “I like to sneak into my mother’s
room, steal her panties and dance around in them, like I’m
Britney Spears.”
Uhh...eww.
Rachel honey? Please tell me you didn’t tell this guy where
you live. If you did, I hope you have a fresh supply of
mace. And antibacterial soap. And a lock on your underwear
drawer.
Hm. What’s more disturbing about this story? A grown man’s
mother having Britney Spears’ish panties, or her son
wearing them?
Okay, gotta run. Please wish me luck on the job interview
tomorrow. Can’t tell you more about it—as you know, I like
to keep my Mad Mari stuff on the down-low, separate from my
real world junk.
But trust me, this job? Well, let’s just say it involves me
swimming in a huge sea of testosterone
Here I go...diving in!
Mari
