Communication Irritation

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Sell Phones

It was decided on the evening of September 17th, 2017.

September 18th, 2017 would be the day of my 24-hour, self-imposed moratorium on cell phone and internet use. Making the decision to live as my ancestors did was a difficult choice, but one I felt was imperative if I was to gain an understanding of the struggle of the ones that came before me. Continue reading “Communication Irritation”

July 4th in October

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Your October 4th of July view

The 4th of July in October. That’s when I celebrate the most patriotic of holidays. It’s been that way since 1997, when I spent July 4th on the mall of our nation’s capital, surrounded by 4.2 million people, all smelling like stale beer and heat exhaustion. Initially, my anger was directed at the Founding Fathers of our Country for failing to wait until fall to declare their independence. In all seriousness, would waiting a few months have made much of a difference in declaring war against the redcoats? They were British. We were going to win, regardless of when we battled. It wasn’t George and Ben’s or Tom’s fault, though. The blame was my own for simply going with the flow of over 200 years of “tradition.” Not anymore, though. Continue reading “July 4th in October”

No one is taking my kidney!

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I’d donate all my kidney’s to this cat

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!”

Life as an ERS (Exit Row Specialist)

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The Plane Truth

Sitting in the exit row of a plane is something I take very seriously. As a relatively frequent flyer, I jump at the chance to bear responsibility for the lives of other travelers who are too wimpy to take on this burden themselves. In fact, most of these ingrates on the plane aren’t even aware of the sacrifice I am willing to make for them. They just sit back in their reclined positions, playing Sudoku and drinking Scotch, while I listen to the special instructions afforded to us as exit row specialists, also known as ERSs (a term I coined). Continue reading “Life as an ERS (Exit Row Specialist)”