Bev Potter
Bio
Writer, know-it-all.
Stories (14/0)
How To Give The Dog A Bath
Rule number one is “Don’t say the ‘B’ word.” This rule applies for several days before the actual event. You think they won’t remember that passing comment to someone on the phone five days ago about how “I really need to give the dog a bath”?
By Bev Potter7 months ago in Petlife
You Can't Win If You Don't Play
I have a problem. Actually, I have a lot of problems, but let’s try to narrow the field a bit. I have a gambling problem. It’s minuscule, really. Tiny. Hardly worth mentioning, were it not for the fact that I break out in a cold sweat every time I pass a lotto machine, or the lottery counter at the grocery store, or the gas station, or the hundreds of other places where lottery tickets are apparently sold. I haven’t seen them at the library yet, but frankly, I’m surprised.
By Bev Potter7 months ago in Confessions
Candles On The Ganges
I think about two things: death, and money. I’m a lot of fun at parties. I roll out of bed and write (hoping to make money), I go to my more-than-fulltime-job (confident I’ll make money), and I work at my side gig whenever I have a free minute to make even more money (the amount depends on how much I work, which drives me like a hamster on meth).
By Bev Potter7 months ago in Motivation
You Will Never Lose Weight By Dieting
My boss believes in the “magic bullet” theory of weight loss. If I had all the money he’s spent on raspberry ketones and Atkins Shakes, I could pay off my house. Every so often I open the cupboard above his desk to see what new miracle potion or pill he’s bought to erase the spare tire around his middle.
By Bev Potter7 months ago in Motivation
My Dog's Letter To Me From Doggy Jail
Dearest Mother — I write to you from doggy jail, a Hellish place from which all hope has fled. You have lured me lo these many years to this place you call “the office” by speaking those magical words against which I have no defense—“Go for a ride?”— only to lock me within this glass chamber you sometimes call “the conference room.”
By Bev Potter8 months ago in Petlife
I Swear I’m Not Trying To Steal Your Truck
Here’s a fun fact. Back in the days when trucks had actual keys, if you put the wrong Ford key into a Ford ignition, the truck would think “STRANGER DANGER!” and completely shut down. As in, call a towing company, because only a Ford dealership knew how to bring your truck back from the dead.
By Bev Potter10 months ago in Humans
Being A Gig Worker Has Made Me A Better Human Being
I don’t usually answer calls from numbers I don’t recognize, but today I did. This was probably a mistake. Answering your phone is like throwing chum in the water for all the spambots circling like invisible sharks.
By Bev Potter10 months ago in Humans
How Not To Do Yoga
I remember the old days when only hippies did yoga. People who looked like they smelled bad and had dirty feet. Swamis and whatnot. Kooks, weirdos. John Lennon. Ralph Nader, probably (I have not researched this). People who drove VW Bugs, and not the hip, cute VW Bugs that are out there now. These were Bugs that always had at least one fender scraping the tire.
By Bev Potter10 months ago in Viva
