Don’t mistake your cold cream for your pomade. Don’t mistake your Listerine for your Gatorade. Don’t take off your glasses ‘fore your plans are made. Or you’ll end up belching menthol while you try to find the towel.
(Originally posted January 23, 2013)
Autocorrect makes my life sound awesome. My latest text to James: My computer isn’t working. I can’t find the pulldown lemurs.
(Originally posted January 12, 2013)
JFK airport gets props for calling its departure car terminal the Kiss and Go Line. That’s good. We took a taxi to JFK, only to realize that our flight was leaving from Laguardia. That’s bad. We found a driver from the black car fleet who promised to get us to LGA before our departure. That’s good. To do so, he drove up the expressway’s shoulder, and swerved on and off the exit ramps. That’s bad. All the while, his stereo played the most soothing Buddhist meditation music. That’s good. But the music’s effect was over as soon as you looked out the window. That’s bad. We made it to LGA! That’s very good. But because I was using a temporary Iowa ID that looks like a badly-copied photo of Magda Bear Breath, the TSA people decided that a woman, who, in a better economy would be home with her grandkids, had to deftly pat me for about twenty minutes. That’s bad. The procedure moved me to the front of the line! And everyone decided that, despite my demeanor, no part of me was apt to explode. That’s good. We got home, on time, and now I can write my tale to you–which is very good indeed.
(Originally posted January 3, 2013)
Oh my. Here’s how seventeenth-century Russians got rid of a Polish usurper to the crown: They killed him (naturally). Then they cremated him. Then they loaded the ashes into a cannon, and shot them toward Poland.
(Originally posted October 10, 2012)
At the gym, we had leg day outside. James did deep, one-legged knee bends. I settled into a catcher’s stance, and jumped as high as I could. We did this for a minute, and then we switched. We did not do any of this well. I’m glad I don’t teach in this town. We looked as if we were doing some kind of Mario Bros. interpretive dance.
(Originally posted April 1, 2012)
So I’ve just read that bucks lose their antlers in the winter, because it costs too many calories to keep them. I wonder if I could grow antlers on my butt.
(Originally posted March 2, 2012)