I was getting mixed signals. I knew it was wrong, this casual pilferage, but also, there was no hint of consequence

Mark Siggers

"Are any of your posts about anything that is worth posting about?" He asks. "If it makes me laugh, it is worth it."

Mark Siggers

G: But my point was, Mark, that he was not really an older man, he was about your age.

Mark Siggers

"Like when that weird lady you wife had been talking to you ambushed you with a conversation that she concluded with her helpful opinion that eight times a year was way too frequent for a monthly seminar?"

Mark Siggers

"Hi God," I say, "It's been a minute." God is old. Probably the oldest person I know, if you can even call Him a person, but He stays up on the recent lingo.

Mark Siggers

God: Hi Mark. Me: Hi. What's up? G: I was just reading your blog. M: No you weren't. G: Got me there. But I did notice you've been writing a lot of

Mark Siggers

God: Hey Mark. Me: Hi God. God: Just a thought, why don't you call your blog 'Stories about coffee'? Me: You think I write too much about coffee? God: You write a lot about

Mark Siggers

Lucy and I are out walking on the foot massage rocks at the Parc de Paris. It is cold, but Lucy takes her shoes and socks off anyways. I'm looking towards the coffee vending machine, trying

Mark Siggers