I Should Have Gone To Bed
It was 9:30 in the evening when my stomach began to growl and complain of emptiness. There's a Subway Sandwich Shop on the corner of our street, and the cool nights here in Arizona make it an enjoyable ten minute stroll. I never walk fast, but my stride is smooth as yogurt without the fruit. I asked my wife if she wanted me to bring something back, but Mary told me she was going to bed. Before leaving, I assured her that I was not sneaking out to rendezvous with the hairy woman living next door. My wife's indifference seemed mocking. Our street has adequate lighting which allows me to spot snakes before they get too close.
Where s The Ketchup?
Okay. The bad weather during the growing season affected produce. Fruit and vegetables are more expensive and, in my opinion, not as flavorful. I don't like spinach, but it looks less tasty. Cause and effect. Supply and demand. Ben and Jerry. Got it. Why is it called produce anyway? Lettuce doesn't "produce" anything. Mine sits in the refrigerator missing spinach and waiting for me to make a salad. I hate cooking. It's boring. Of course, I may be doing it wrong. That's happened before. I'd be happy to observe you cooking anytime. That's the best way to learn. Anyway, I can live with bland apples;
How To Properly Pat A Man s Behind
Yes, I have always envied athletes their freedom of expression. Where else but on a field of sport can you intentionally swat a well-toned rear end as a form of congratulations? Imagine the president of a university doing that as the valedictorian receives her diploma. Harassment right? In fact, I don't know anyone anywhere who can pull this off in public except athletes. I've studied their technique. It's fairly simple. The fingers must be fully extended, not curled. That's groping. Contact must be brief and to the right or left of the mid line. Also, the ideal spot is around the height of the convexity.
How To Clean Your Garage and Live To Tell About It
The crowds gather in abundant numbers and gaze in awe as it is time, once again, for the Semiannual Megill Invitational and Garage Cleaning Ceremony. I don't know how it happens. Twice a year, usually the first nice weekend in the Spring and the last nice weekend in the fall, I subject myself to the tedious task of making array out of the disarray that has developed in my garage over the past six months. After every cleaning, I always say the same thing to myself, "Now, let's keep it that way." But, somehow, sometime between May and November and May again, piles of boxes, papers and assorted potpourri make its way into the garage.
Staying On The Funny Side - Of Commercials
Have you seen the commercial for the kid's allergy medication? Two women are sitting in a park on a play date when one child runs up, sneezes, and both women, like gun slingers, pull out their emergency mommy medication. One mother has an oozing bag of mangled medications. The other mother pulls out her handy dandy pre-filled dose of medication and administers it to Junior and never misses a beat. Messy bag woman cowers in shame. Quick-dose mom flashes a condescending smile of victory. Freeze the frame right here because I have a problem with this whole scenario. First of all, find me a park where children are frolicking and skipping to the tune of laughing mothers.
Ice Cubes
I am tired of filling the ice cube trays. Every tray I examine has just two ice cubes remaining. It is as if the perpetrator of this outrage, and she knows who she is, decides that as long there are two cubes left, it would be wasteful to fill the tray. One cube, apparently, can be sacrificed. Consequently, every time I wish to put ice in my beverage I am limited to two cubes, unless I want to fill two ice cube trays. I must then walk all the way across the kitchen and refill the tray or trays slopping water along the way that I will step in later in my stocking feet. I blame my wife, Kathie, for this because I know I have to fill at least one tray each and every time I have a drink.
Jangling Nerves Not Conducive to Productivity
Arrgghhh, it's that dreaded time again... HALF TERM! If I have to listen to Poooower Raaaangers SPD, Pooooower Raaangers to the rescue, break up Triple H and The Undertaker wrestling on my floor or tend to WWE/Raw carpet burns one more time, I'm gonna perform a couple of double choke slams of my own! As you can tell, I'm not in the best of moods. It's not all the kids' fault though. Some of it is self-inflicted... To Spam or not to Spam I decided that 2008 was the year where I was going to sever the umbilical cord between me and my 'puter a little. I was going to overcome my aversion to sunlight and get myself a bit fit!
Alarms and Clocks
The earliest form of alarm clock was probably a big guy standing by a sundial waiting to shout: Oi -- wake up! Alarm is defined as a state of fear or heightened anxiety and comes from old Italian, all arme -- all arm -- a call to arms. Nature makes wide use of alarm calls. The raucous shriek of angry birds echoes through every jungle alerting of danger. In any back garden a stalking cat can be thwarted by the shrill cries of a startled worm-puller. The cowboy guiding his wary pony across the prairie pulls up short at the warning quiver of a deadly rattlesnake -- carrying its own alarm in its tail.
A Love Story Which Ended In Marriage
Katie is my wife. I married her with in a week, fell in love and now I am her husband. These seven days are full of events of meaningful consequences, are they really? Day 1, I was fired by my boss and was feeling heart broken, naturally. There was a logical, psychological and real need for someone whom I could share this pathos. A single male, living alone, average looking with empty pockets fascinates 0.0001 % single women even with much worst financial or physical position. It was a mystery then, it is a mystery now, but that's how the world works. At 3:00 pm I sat on a bench near a busy shopping mall, doing nothing and thinking nothing and feeling nothing.
Beaver in Argentina
25 pairs of beaver were taken to Argentina by someone interested in fur farming. They were under the radar of the local predators and there are now over 200, 000 of them in the wild. (Enthusiastic bunch.) They started eating fish. Maybe it was a case of what do you do when you can't find a nice poplar to bite into, but they are a rodent, so I guess it's not that much of a stretch. With a set of wood chisels for teeth the fish don't have much of a chance. I doubt if there is another predator around that would enjoy chewing through the thick end of a tree. Its vegetarian background gave it a pretty vicious set of tools to bring to the table.