HO, HO, HO, Ha, ha, ha... ha... BLAM!

My hair is rebelling against me.
It's been drawing back on the top of my head for some time. Now I've noticed that the hair at my temples is turning gray. Just a few of them are standing out at the moment, but I can read the writing on the wall.

I've always planned on taking this inevitability in stride. But now that it's happening, I'll admit that I'm a little concerned. How will I handle this?

Let me take you to the future. Let me take you to a place where flying cars, self-drying jackets and hover boards are common.
Let me take you to the year 2015.

It's been six years since I last shaved. The few gray hairs at my temples have spread and now I have a snowy-white mane. I'm like a crazed, trumpet-wielding Santa Claus.

I'm married to Megan Fox. It was a difficult courtship, but finally I was able to forgive her for starring in Transformers 2. We are currently living happily on a floating city created entirely of empty water bottles made as a refuge from rising sea levels. We have a pet polar bear. His name is Melty and we feed him canned tuna.

I can sense your incredulity concerning my ability to woo Megan Fox. The explanation is simple. You see, horn players in ska bands are the ultimate sex symbol in the year 2015. Our coupling surprised no one.

That's what I call taking it in stride.

PS... by the year 2015, all humans will have a tiny Apple product called the iLobe implanted in their brains at birth. The iLobe will hold 10,000 songs, 3,000 full-length movies and will make the entire human race completely obedient to the will of Steve Jobs.

Yeti Didn't Start the Fire

8 November 2009

Re:Your New Fence

Dear sir:

It has come to the attention of myself and my associate Timmy that you are building a new fence. It seems to be a very sturdy and well-built fence. However, we have a number of concerns.

Our main concern is that your fence is far too short to contain a Sasquatch.

In the first place, Sasquatches are very tall. Beyond that, they are known for their jumping ability. You may want to consider a roof for your fence. At the very least, we advise you install some sort of netting atop your Sasquatch pen. Caution is advised here, however, as a Sasquatch entangled in netting is an unhappy Sasquatch.

In addition, we are concerned that you may not know how to properly catch a Sasquatch. You should know that oatmeal cream pies are quite effective for luring Sasquatches. Timmy has told me that Sasquatches are also attracted to the sound of Billy Joel's studio recordings. In this he was very clear: NOTHING LIVE. I can neither confirm nor deny the idea that Sasquatches are fond of Billy Joel, but I trust Timmy's instincts and would advise you to do the same.

In closing, I would like to wish you the best of luck. You are off to a fine start, and soon Timmy and I hope to see your fenced-in yard teeming with Sasquatches.

If you have any questions feel free to contact us.

All the best,
D. Ralph Adams

Damn Right It's Worth the Risk

Last week, my roommate graduated from grad school. That is, he graduated and he didn't under-graduate.

This story isn't really about him. Well, it's about him indirectly. You see, last week he had a graduation party. There was a lot of food at the graduation party and now most of that food lives on as leftovers.

This story is about leftovers.

There's a clear plastic box of mini-cupcakes tempting me from the top of the microwave. So far I have been successful at resisting their siren-song. It's mostly because they're not that good. They're a little dry and the frosting- while aesthetically pleasing- is pretty much glorified Cool Whip. Basically all they have going for them is their size. I can eat a single mini-cupcake in one bite. That used to be enough to weaken my resolve. Not any more.

Maybe I'm evolving. I'm evolved enough, at least, not to mention the half of an apple pie on the bottom rack of the fridge.

That brings me to the 3.85 lb. tub of Cub Foods potato salad on the top rack. Earlier this evening, I found myself standing in the middle of the kitchen shoveling forkloads of potato, egg and mayo from a plastic tub into my mouth.

I was not ashamed. Cub makes damn good 'tato salad. My concern is that I can't eat 3.85 pounds of potato salad before it makes that inevitable turn from edible to toxic.

I've never thrown out potato salad. Of course, I've never tackled 3.85 lbs. before. I hope I can finish it in time, because I doubt very much that I will stop short.

So this may be my last blog.

Now I must sign off because I keep dropping bits of potato on the keyboard.

Farewell.

I'm No Miniature Superman

A student is coloring a picture and is doing his best to stay in the lines. I look at him and say, "You are doing a great job. "
The student, without looking up from his work, says, "Yeah... so are you."


I took a job two months ago as a full-time paraprofessional at an elementary school. It is the most adult job I have ever had. Someday it may even force me to think of myself as an adult.

Sometimes when I'm helping students during their class time with another teacher, I have very little to do. I recently bought the first two seasons of "Scrubs." These two circumstances have combined to produce a game I like to call "Find the Miniature Versions of the Cast of Scrubs."

So far, I've found Mini-Elliot and Mini-Turk. I'm having a little trouble finding Mini-J.D. Elementary school students just don't use enough hair product to look like J.D. If only I worked at a middle school.

Next week: Seinfeld.

My Thumb's Off to Ya.

Occasionally, at my new job, they allow me to handle a knife.

I was cutting cilantro when I almost cut off my thumb. I'm not sure how close I came because I wasn't looking. Someone else had to tell me that I almost cut off my thumb. All of this alarmed me a little bit. Of course I was alarmed that I had almost lost my thumb, but that wasn't the worst of it. My thumb and I have had some wonderful times together. He's definitely one of my favorites. If I won't even pay attention when a prized digit is at stake...

What else do I do without looking?

I deliver burritos while listening to NPR; talking on the phone; unwrapping and consuming Commit Lozenges; finding the ideal location for thawing the fountain pop I bought at Jimmy John's the day before; changing the Elvis Costello album I will listen to when I tire of NPR; checking to make sure my proof of insurance is up-to-date in case I get into an accident.

I flirt with the girl at the bar while watching ESPN over her shoulder; wondering which Africa story will impress her without horrifying her; considering the number of Commit Lozenges I have left in my pocket.

I apply for a job while wondering if it is the job I really want; hoping it will provide enough income for me to pay my bills and buy more Commit Lozenges; worrying over the possibility that I have simply traded my addiction to cigarettes for an addiction to Commit Lozenges; considering another escape to a foreign country; weighing the odds that this job will impress that girl that I flirt with at the bar.

It turns out I do a lot of things without looking.

But when I chop cilantro these days, my attention is focused entirely on my thumb.