I wouldn’t donate one of my kidneys to just anyone. Don’t send me a friend request on Facebook, then start schmoozing with me for a few minutes about how we were friends in 9th grade English class, and then slip in a, “Hey, man, I need a kidney.” I didn’t have friends in 9th grade English class. Don’t tweet me a sob story or send me a sad Instagram photo of your dog. Besides, I don’t even like dogs. I didn’t help anyone move when I owned a pickup truck, and this is no different. Continue reading “No one is taking my kidney!”
If you are reading this letter, it means that I’m dead and you are now residing in the home I once occupied. Please get off of your phone and read this.
Before I died, and well before I had become a bitter old man, I decided to sit down and pen a letter to the future homeowner, which I guess is you. Continue reading “A Letter to the Future Homeowner”
The other day, an attractive lady approached me in front of my favorite coffee shop. I had never seen her before, so the fact that she seemed to be making a beeline toward me was quite surprising. Women simply don’t behave this way in my presence.
She stopped in front of me and said, “How did you get to be so hot?” Continue reading “The Excessive Sweater”
The cleaning lady in my office wants me dead. I have no physical proof or a motive for this yet, just keen observation. It’s best that I present you with the evidence and allow you to draw your own conclusions. Continue reading “Calendar Concerns”
I think I speak for my outdoor trash cans when I say that they have no intention of ever being scary. They stand there, tucked between the adjoining corner of my backyard fencing, bleakly colored tan and gray. In fact, they are quite content to stay in the yard, only being moved on the eve of trash day. They require very little. Continue reading “Trash Can Containment”
The microwave won’t tell you that you accidentally added two additional zeroes to the timer. Coffee needs 30 seconds to heat up, not half an hour. Inevitably, you’ll hit “start” and move on to other things, intending to come back shortly to collect your warm coffee. After several minutes, it will dawn on you that the microwave shouldn’t still be rotating your java. As you hurriedly rush to the microwave and open the door, the carnage in front of you is not hard to miss. Continue reading “The Coffee Catastrophe of 2017”
I knew the instant the homeless man appeared on our subway train with a trash bag full of something that my afternoon was about to become interesting.
My wife and I, along with my mother-in-law, were on the train heading out of San Francisco. We had spent the day touring around, and – it being my first time there – I had enjoyed myself quite a bit. Continue reading “For the Birds”