What if I told you I wanted you to take all your valuables and put them in the least secure place you could find? Perhaps in the middle of your backyard. Take any cash you’ve got lying around, any watches, jewelry, iPhones and other electronics and put them in a
I was having lunch with a bunch of 30-something people I work with. After a couple of minutes, it occurred to me I have practically nothing in common with any of them. So, I mostly just sat, listened, and thought to myself, “been there, done that”. Which was a good
My wife and I have an inside joke. I’ll do some project for her and ask her if she’s satisfied with the results. She’ll say, “It’s fine.” To which I’ll reply, “Fine is what I aspire to be.” I admit, it’s not a great joke, but it amuses us. Because
I have a Twitter account. I never use it, but I have one. And about once a week or so, I receive an email from Twitter telling me about things they think I should know about. A couple of articles ago, I talked about how there was a tweet saying,
Sigmund Freud made a living out of telling people that everything is a phallic symbol. In other words, Freud used to say that everything looked like a dick. So, everyone expected him to make a big deal out of cigars looking…well…dick-like. Add the fact that a cigar is something people
I was at a grocery store last week. My wife and I had made a bet about whether or not the bag of groceries we were buying was going to cost more or less than $100. She took the under and I took the over. While checking out, I started
For as long as I can remember, I’ve had a hearing problem. It’s not a huge problem, and nowhere near being a disability. My problem is that in a crowded room, I have trouble picking out a single voice from all the background noise. I can do it. I just
I know this isn’t a popular thing to say these days. Though I’m attacked at every turn, I’m never going to be hailed as “courageous” for saying what I’m about to say. Here it is. I am a man. There’s no mistaking that. I obviously look like a man. If
I was listening to an advertisement the other day. It started out, “If you’re overweight, it’s not your fault.” Umm. Yes it is. Unless someone is force feeding you cheesecake and fried chicken, it’s your fault. The ad continued to talk about slow metabolism and genetics and tried to convince
I remember one time when I was in kindergarten. Nap time had just started and a classmate of mine took off one of his boots. Then he poured about a dozen marbles out onto the floor, and they scattered everywhere. His older brothers had put the marbles in his shoe