The Guinness joke made it to Fark, and the comments thread there is filled with some of the absolute best “a guy walks into a bar . . . ” jokes of all time. It could quite possibly be the finest collection of bar-related humor on the Internet.
Here’s one of my own, that I’m about to add to the list:

A guy sits alone at a bar, drinking his beer. From out of nowhere, he hears a voice say, “You look great, man! Have you lost weight?” He looks around, and confirms that the only other person in the bar is the bartender, who is all the way at the other end of the bar. He shrugs it off, and takes another drink of his beer.
“That’s a really nice suit. It looks good on you,” the voice says again.
The guy looks around, and before he can say anything, the voice says, “You have very nice eyes.”
The guy freaks out, and shouts, “Hey, bartender! Come here!”
As the bartender arrives, the voice speaks again. “That’s a nice haircut!”
“Who keeps talking to me?!” The guy asks the bartender.
“Oh, that?” The bartender says, “It’s the peanuts. They’re complimentary.”

Thank you, folks. Try the fish.

And now, comedy:

The leaders of the big beer companies meet for a drink. The president of Budweiser orders a Bud, the CEO of Miller gets a Miller, the head of Coors orders a Coors, and so on.

I just got back from Cirque Du Soleil. Some friends took Anne and I to see the current show, which is called “Varekai.”
I guess there was some reality show about the making of this . . . installment? performance? spectacular?
Yeah. Let’s go with Spectacular. Because that’s what it is.
My god. These people are simply amazing. There was so much grace and beauty in this show, it was overwhelming. When the show was over tonight, and we walked back to the train to come home, I regretted all the times I could have seen the other Cirque shows when they were in Los Angeles, but decided to play GURPS or Magic or something else instead.
The performers I saw tonight are some of the most talented on the planet. They can make anything — even a fishing net — beautiful. As a matter of fact, they make it so beautiful, the word beautiful doesn’t come close to describing how beautiful it is.
If you get a chance to see this show, or “O” in Las Vegas (the only other Cirque show I’ve seen), sieze it. I promise you, you won’t regret it.
UPDATE: So many people have written to me with their own tales of beauty, and their own Cirque experiences, I’m going to open comments on this entry, so that hopefully I won’t be the only person who gets to share in their experiences.

Follwing up my “bad beat” story:
I guess it’s been posted to USENet, which is just awesome, because now I know where all the alt.wesley.die.die.die people have been hiding for all these years.
Look, the point of that entry was NOT what a terrible player I am. I know I should have listened to the classic TJ Cloutier advice and moved all in or folded. I know I played the cards wrong. I know that I was trying to keep Ryan in the pot when I should have blown him out or gotten out myself.
Thank you. I know what a lousy card player I am, okay? If I was a better player, I’d be playing in a tournament, and not working on my book.
But the WHOLE POINT of that story was to share something about my relationship with my stepson — a relationship that has been terribly strained over the years, thanks to some wonderful loyalty conflicts not created by me, alright? I absolutely adore both Ryan and Nolan, and the gap that has been placed between us makes me grieve every day. When we played that silly game of cards, Ryan moved to close that gap, and it meant more to me than hitting an inside straight on fifth street ever will. Even if it’s at the final table.
So maybe I could just catch a little break here? Maybe try to look past the trees to see the forest?

Just A Geek has stared me in the face for months. It quietly sits here: ~/justageek/working/22augustrevisejustageek.sxw and dares me to open it and get back to work.
As you can see, I haven’t had the courage to work on it since the 22nd of August . . . but I’m starting again today, and I won’t stop until I’m done.
I’m so terrified of this book! I’ve given it a great deal of power over me, and I’m terrified that it won’t be as good as I thought it was a year ago, and that it won’t be as well-liked as Dancing Barefoot has been.
In all the interviews I’ve given, I’ve talked about the blessing and curse of the writing I do: on the one hand, it’s just me, with no filters (not even a speelchek). What I write comes straight out of my heart — mostly because writing honestly is much easier than making stuff up — so when it touches someone, that gratitude they express goes right back into my heart. Of course, when someone savages it for not being cynical enough, or whatever . . . it goes right into the same place, with just as much weight as the praise.
The thing with Just A Geek is, it’s a lot more work, and a lot more of that heart invested in it than Dancing Barefoot . . . so it’s a much bigger risk (and potential reward, I suppose). So I’ve been terrified to work on it, and release it.
When I woke up this morning, I lay in bed and talked with myself about it. It’s so close to being completed, it’s like I’ve run 22 miles of a marathon. It’s stupid not to finish it, and I’ve delayed it long enough.
Normally, I listen to Boingo when I write, but for some reason I felt like hearing Radiohead this morning, so I’m listening to The Bends, and now I’m going to get to work.
If everything goes according to plan, blogging will come to a virtual standstill while I finish this.
Heh. “Just” just started. Thom sang, “You do it to yourself, and that’s what really hurts . . . you and no one else . . . you’ll get no sympathy . . .”
I needed to hear that. Time to write.