It’s a catchy song, easy to remember, and full of emotion, but there are plenty of songs like that. I think part of the key for the Gotye song is that it’s a duet.

There’s just something about duets–particularly duets between a man and a woman–that really get to me, even in an anti-love song like Somebody That I Used to Know.  The best moment is when the man’s voice joins the woman’s, or when the women’s voice joins the man’s. It’s a perfect moment.

I’m a sucker for a rousing love song, so two others that come to mind are “Islands in the Stream” by Dolly Parton and Kenny Rogers and “When the Stars Go Blue” by The Corrs and U2. Oh, and the Aladdin classic, “A Whole New World,” obviously.

What’s your favorite duet? And no, I won’t be singing both parts of a duet in my next video blog. I’m a terrible singer, and I’d instantly lose all my readers.

This classic cop movie move is best applied in real life in situations where it is in no way necessary (or appropriate) for one person to be overly kind and compassionate and the other overly angry and aggressive.

In fact, I would say that you should use good cop/bad cop in any situation that involves you paired with someone else. Here are some examples for the workplace:

• making a sales call
• interviewing a prospective employee
• asking your boss for an extended lunch break

But don’t limit good cop/bad cop to the workplace. Here are some other real-world applications:

• parenting (just make sure you switch off to keep your kids/cats on their toes)
• going out to eat (the good cop should tip in this scenario, and tip well at that)
• buying anything, no matter how small (great at farmer’s markets)

If you’ve never tried this, please do. Just make sure going into the situation that the two of you are clear on who the good cop is and who the bad cop is. Also, note that the good cop must remain calm, composed, and sympathetic, and the bad cop must swipe at least one item off of the table or punch a file cabinet (you may need to provide your own table or file cabinet if you’re not in an office).

Have you ever pulled off a successful good cop/bad cop? Where would you like to try it?

Steve is a professor at Columbia College in Columbia, Missouri. Last year, he sent a completed manuscript of a novel he had written to my publishing company for consideration.

The novel started slowly, but once it got moving, we realized that we had stumbled upon an immensely talented writer and storyteller. Much to our delight, after we accepted him as our 2011 author, we also discovered that he was extremely open to revisions (the novel now starts as late into the story as it possibly can, which is key–keep that in mind if you’re a writer) and that he fully embraced the idea of self-promotion. He’s been a pleasure to work with.

Steve speaking at the book signing.

Today was Steve’s first-ever book reading and signing. Subterranean Books, an independent bookstore on the Loop here in St. Louis, hosted the event. As the clock ticked closer and closer to the start time, we realized that we were serving a packed house. There were about 30 people–maybe even more–crowding into the upper level of the store.

Before Steve spoke (turns out that he’s also an excellent speaker), my co-founder Kristy and myself had a really nice moment with Steve. We asked him how he was feeling, and he said that he was a little nervous, but that it was also sinking in that this was all really happening. He was now a published novelist about to speak in front of a packed house. One of his long-time dreams was coming true.

After Steve climbed the stairs and began greeting people, Kristy turned to me and said, “It feels like we’re giving birth.” I don’t think she was talking about the pain and agony of going into labor; rather, she was saying that we were giving life to something that was about to take on a life of its own. And that feels pretty darn great.

Steve is really going places with this novel. In all seriousness, I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s shortlisted for a number of literary awards this year, and this is for a book that is page turner. If you want to be a part of this man’s dream, you can buy Slant of Light here in a variety of formats. If you do, and if you write a review of the book on Amazon, I will write a public love letter on this blog to anything you want, no matter how outlandish it is. Except sauerkraut. I can’t even pretend that I like sauerkraut. It is the devil’s toejam.

Also, a special shoutout to Katy and Jasmin, two readers of this blog, who took time out of their night to drop by the bookstore tonight for the reading. That meant a lot to me.

1000 Awesome Things is essentially my Pet Please series on steroids, but without the negative side effects. I’ve come up with 63 pet pleases so far, and this guy came up with one thousand. Amazing. They range from the whimsical to the emotional, but almost all of them have made me smile.

I’m not alone–he’s published three books from his blog, all of them bestsellers.

I must admit that I rarely read all the way through his posts–his subject lines are so clear that they suffice for me (note to fellow bloggers: subject lines are extremely important!). But the other day I was reading #5, not even really thinking that it was post #5 (he didn’t post the awesome things sequentially), and I noticed that he linked to this article in the Toronto Star: Neil Pasricha Posts the Final Entry on His Popular Blog 1000 Awesome Things.

It took me a second, but then it hit me: It was coming to an end. After four years, he was actually counting down to #1. Not that #1 really matters. What mattered was that a good thing–a great thing–is ending.

Fortunately, the blog will live on, as will the books. But I will immensely miss my daily dose of joy. In a world of complainers (myself included), this blogger managed to find one thousand great slices of life to share with the world. That’s such a gift.

If you read one thing today after this post, I hope you click here and read the #2 entry on 1000 Awesome Things. It is beautifully written, and it describes how lucky each and every one of us is to even exist. You’ve heard that message before, but I guarantee that you haven’t heard it the way that Pasricha describes it.

He just posted #1. It genuinely makes me sad and happy at the same time.

Amanda Seyfried, you're fantastic.

In all honesty, this post is about women who don’t talk on their cell phones while walking their dogs, but I wanted to make it open to people of all genders and sexual orientations.

Two things contribute to this pet please:

1. I look at women WAY too much when I’m driving. I’ve recently realized that it doesn’t make sense for me to do this. I mean, I will crane my neck in a full 180 for the slightest glimpse of what might be yoga pants on a jogger. This goes against everything evolution has worked towards. I’m literally putting myself in danger in the off chance that I might glimpse sexiness on legs.
2. I once dated a girl who treated her dog–whom she claimed to love–like a huge nuisance. To everything the dog did, my girlfriend would groan, “Peeka….” (Names have been chanced to protect the innocence of this adorable dog.) Has to go to the bathroom? “Peeka….” Scratching herself? “Peeka….” Jumping on the bed and wiggling excitedly? “Peeka….” I couldn’t understand why she had this dog if the dog endlessly annoyed her. (And serious, this wasn’t an annoying dog at all.) She’s not the only one–I’ve met tons of pet owners who seem to consider their pets a hassle, not a precious, wonderful gift of life. In fact, I hear that a lot from parents of human children too.

This might be my favorite photo ever. Who walks their dogs in formal evening wear, you might ask? Hayden Panettiere, that's who.

My point is that I often notice women walking their dogs, and the dog often seems like an afterthought. These women (like I said, men do this too, but I don’t notice them) seem to be saying, “I’m wasting my time with this animal unless I’m connecting with someone else.”

Why? Why do people do this? You have this incredible, curious, lovable, furry animal exploring the world every day as if it’s the first time. You have the honor of experiencing that firsthand. Can’t you be present to your animal–the creature you chose to bring into your life–for a few minutes every day?

As a pet owner, I try every day to not take for granted the gifts that are my two little cats, Biddy and Walter. And sure, they do weird, crazy things sometimes, but as I once told a girlfriend (not Peeka’s owner…there are a lot of ex-girlfriends), “We have animals living in our home.” How cool is that?!

So for some reason it warms my heart whenever I see someone walking their dog and actually paying attention to their dog. I hope those women know that there’s a special guy out there who will probably get in a car accident because he’s staring at you.

Immediately my mind started spinning. I could start a Tumblr. People could submit photos of their pets snuggling with stuffed animals. I could merchandise it with t-shirts and leverage the millions of page views with a book deal. I could retire to Kyoto at 32, as I’ve always envisioned.

But then, while searching Google to see if the domain name was available, my search bar autofilled with Animals with Stuffed Animals.

Yeah, it exists.

AND IT’S AWESOME!

(Sometimes it’s such a relief when you realize that someone has already executed your brilliant idea. It can save you a lot of time and trouble. Plus, you get to use it right away.)

The only huge downside to this site is that it doesn’t have an RSS feed, so you have to remember to go to the site whenever you want your daily dose of cuteness. But it’s worth it. It’s totally worth it.

Here are some of my favorites, and these are just from the first few pages of the blog. Please brace yourself for cuteness overload. Feel free to link to your favorites in the comments.

But there was a cop directly in front of me.

I parked anyway, hoping the cop wouldn’t care. But right away he put on his lights, rolled down the window, and said, “You can’t park there!”

I put on my best Reasonable Voice and said, “Could I just jump in there to buy a cupcake really quick?”

He shook his head. “No. I do this every day.”

So I gave him my Obedient Understanding You’re Just Doing Your Job Face and got back in the car. Despite the face, I wasn’t happy. I wasn’t lying to the cop–I truly was only going to be a minute. Every other parking spot in the area was full, so I was going to have to use the pay-by-the-hour parking deck down the street.

The cop had waited around to make sure that I actually pulled out of the yellow zone stop, so I was really hoping that he was still around to see me walk into The Cup and back out within 2 minutes. For some reason it’s important for me to prove to people that I’m telling the truth in situations where they clearly don’t believe me. But by the time I left the shop, the cop was gone.

The hourly rate in the parking deck was a little tough to decipher–it was one of those pricing riddles, like: $3.00 for the first hour, $1.00 for every additional hour up to 5 hours, max of $15 unless it’s a harvest moon and you’re driving a compact car, in which case it’s $1 for the first hour and $2 for every subsequent hour. $1 extra per passenger unless the cumulative weight and age of all passengers adds up to less than 400.

So I drove up the attendant, silently cursing the stubborn cop, and handed him my ticket.

“You’re good,” he said.

“What? It’s free?”

“It says ‘zero’.”

I wasn’t sure if the attendant was following the computer (most likely) or giving me a break because of the whole cupcake situation (which he didn’t know about, but I think somehow he knew), but I thanked him profusely and drove away.

And literally–I’m not exaggerating–I felt like the luckiest man alive. For a mere savings of $3 (or, if my calculations were slightly off, $1,209). But because of all that had preceded it and because I thought I was going to get charged, when I walked away for free, I felt amazing.

The next time you get something for free that you expected to pay for, soak it in. This is the good stuff of life.

In this golden age of technology, we’re no match for the machines. Satellites can track a person to within a yard of their current location. Lawn mowers can cut your grass for you. TiVo can find your favorite show at any time on any channel. And now Photoshop can unblur blurry photos by processing the direction the camera was moving when the photo was taken and correcting the image.

A prime example of this is autofill. Nonexistent 10 years ago, predictive text is now ubiquitous on our cell phones, iTunes, Amazon, and online search engines. Google knows what we’re looking for before we do.

Thus I always feel extra special when I finish typing my search before autofill predicts it for me. It’s a small victory, but it feels great every time.

The day will come when humans are no match for autofill. But until that day, I will stand triumphant over my computer, hammer in one hand, loincloth in the other. This one’s for the humans!

It just doesn’t happen. Most of the time I get excited to meet someone new, but nervous? Nah. I simply follow my own recommendations for a good first date and do it.

However, there is one key area of dating for which I still get nervous. And honestly, I love that I still get nervous about this thing. Because although it often feels like I’m going through motions on dates, I don’t want to feel that way.

That area is holding hands for the first time in a movie theater. I often spend most of the first half of the movie debating where or not I should hold the girl’s hand. Is it too soon? Too late? Is she interested? Am I interested? Do I want that hand free for popcorn? Did I eat too much popcorn? Am I covered in popcorn?!

And then the calm comes when I realize: I’m going to do it. This is actually happening. My hand is moving. It’s happening. It’s touching her hand, my fingers curling around hers…

…and she reciprocates.

I then spend a few minutes wondering if she’s only holding my hand because she doesn’t want it to be awkward, and then I realize how weird that would be–if she didn’t want to hold my hand, she’d just push me away.

It’s at this point that I really start to enjoy the hand-holding experience. I wonder why I didn’t try it earlier. I’m an active hand holder–my hand doesn’t just lay their limply. Neither should yours. I don’t have a formula, but I just enjoy touching her for what is probably the first time our skin has met. In my experience, the best hand holders are active, suggestive, and variable.

For those of you who are single, what makes you nervous? And those of you in long-term relationships, does anything still make you nervous? If not, do you miss it?

It’s some miracle of invention that tandem bikes even exist. Just like the miracle of life on Earth, rising from the primordial ooze millions of years ago (or from Adam and Eve, whatever floats your boat, unless that boat is Noah’s Ark, because that’s just ridiculous), the chances that someone not only invented a tandem bike but also made it and somehow got people to ride it are astronomically low.

And yet it exists.

And people ride them!

I want to know what the conversation looks like between two people when they decide, no, we don’t want to buy two bikes. We just want one bike that we can both ride at exactly the same pace. If I steer to the right, he has no choice but to follow. If I fall, she falls too.

It’s kind of a good analogy for marriage, isn’t it?

What is the most ridiculous sport/activity that you’ve done as a couple?