Today I did something work-related and then added it to my To-Do List so I could select it and mark it “DONE."

In 5th grade we had a guest teacher from Colombia. We had to use her first name, because her last name was PusPus. One day she brought in “head cheese” for all of us to try, which I later learned is pig brain. No permission slips. No exceptions. The “X” in GenX stands for PTSD.

Tell the old stories in the old ways

It’s impossible all of the people in those videos are named Karen. I mean some of them are fellas.

This is why I hate math.

So this delivery guy walks up to my porch and hands me a box. So far, so good. But then he turns away, and I can’t help but ask this fella: “Hey buddy, you know you got a giant, curvy penis on your back? I mean, what the Sam Hill is in this box?”

It feels like half the population wants to Benjamin Buttons America back to Woodstock ‘99.

I don’t want to talk to a scientist.

Ever hear someone say a word and realize you’ve been pronouncing it wrong? For a long time I thought people who created the YouTubes were… content. I don’t know. I thought it was just a happy place where people had this hobby and they were content with it. Anyways, it turns out that is not the case.

Marketing is cool. Like, take PCP. I mean, don’t actually… take it. Anyways they rebrand as Angel Dust. Cmon! THE DUST OF ANGELS? Who doesn’t want that? But then a guy jumps off a building. Twice. That’s one time too many. Crawl back up and jump again? Nobody wants that. Now a *third* time? Ok yeah.

Sometimes my gal and I like to pretend we’re in the movies. So, what we do is, we go to a diner and order pancakes. We do some banter, plan a heist and the like. The food comes and she pours on syrup for what feels like forever. Then, see, I do a quip: “You uh, want some *pancakes* with your syrup?”

When a long-lost buddy comes home with his new best gal, approach them at the local bar with a look of simmering anger like you’re about to do the fisticuffs. Say “You’ve got SOME nerve coming back here.” Then do an elaborate handshake with bird squawks. Finally, hug and say, “Oh you old so and so!”

MS Edge is like a friend with a pickup truck you only call when you need help downloading Chrome.

We know very little about cave men and cave ladies. All we have is some drawings. Based on that, they seem pretty stupid. With terrible drawing skills.

So, here’s a thought that keeps me up at night: what if future civilizations only know us by Chik-fil-A ads? They’re gonna think we were *wild*.