I had a revolutionary Thanksgiving weekend.  On the way back from visiting relatives we stopped at a Bob Evans, and while paying at the register I had a reality-shattering epiphany.  The jingle “Every kiss begins with Kay” makes sense because the word kiss starts with the letter k. 

“Ohhhhhhhhhhhhh,” I poured out slowly, as though I had been working on the riddle for years. 

But then everyone around me exclaimed derisively, “You didn’t know that? It’s so obvious!” 

I riposted, “Hey! I thought it was like ‘Home is a two letter word, M-I’, because then the two things stick in your head together.” 

But they said, “No! You’re stupid!” 

But then the cashier girl spoke up, “Yeah, I didn’t get that either!” And we smiled at each other and had a moment.

Ever since I found that out, I feel like life has been lighter and less stressful.  Sometimes you have no idea what’s bothering you until it’s gone.  *sinks into a mental bubble bath* Ahhhh . . .

If I started a country, I would choose Sandstorm to be the national anthem.  Then whenever athletes from my country won a gold medal at the olympics the stadium would go dark, the strobe lights would come on, and they would break it down.

My plan when I am older is to get an apartment in which all the furniture is made of food.  I will eat it slowly over time until it is finally all gone, and I will come home and think, “Well, it looks like it is time to move.”  It will be doubly convenient because the apartment will be all ready for showing.  Then I will move to another city and start all over again.

Today while someone was talking to me I noticed that he had his ear pierced.  I felt like Sherlock Holmes because I had noticed something about him without him noticing that I had noticed.  (Unless he was like Sherlock Holmes too, in which case he noticed me noticing something about him without me noticing that he had noticed.  Hmmmm.) 

Since this had happened, I figured I should begin to make inferences about the significance of the observation.  ‘Well,’ I thought secretly to myself, ‘it probably means he has worn an earring at some point.’  I congratulated myself on a stellar start to my career as a crime-solving detective.  What crime had been committed?  It was hard to tell so early in the investigation; I would just have to find that out along the way. 

‘Furthermore,’ I went on, ‘it was probably a consensual piercing, because there are no signs of resistance.’  Another brilliant inference; one step closer to catching the criminal.  More precisely, one step closer to determining the crime, since ‘Forceful piercing’ was ruled out by the evidence. 

Criminal investigations gain a new level of mystery when you don’t even know what the crime is that’s been committed.  Since you don’t know the victim, everyone is a suspect: a suspect to be the victim and a suspect to be the criminal.  In that case you can’t trust anybody.  Not even yourself.

Anyways, I still don’t know what the crime is.  Unless the crime was me not listening to him talk.  But that can’t be it, because I didn’t know he was saying anything.  But that might be because I wasn’t listening.  Hmmmm. 

I once heard an old man say he hadn’t really lived.  Let’s all take one step away from becoming that man tonight!  Farewell friends!

I hear lots of different girls say, “Oh my gosh, I have the best boyfriend in the whole world.”  Well if that’s the case, I wouldn’t want to be that guy once those girls find out that he’s been dating them all at the same time.

If I ever get a restaurant, I am going to put a sign up in the restroom that says “People Must Wash Hands Before Returning to Life.”

Whenever I hear someone say “There are no stupid questions” I always ask, “But are there stupid questions?”

I always make sure to wear cleats on dates so that I will win footsy.

It is important to note that “I would love to have her as a neighbor” is only a justification to support Sarah Palin for president if you live at 1601 Pennsylvania Avenue.

Everybody have a terrific Saturday.

I live in a house of seven guys, and all of us had school off for Veterans Day; except, curiously enough, for the veteran that lives with us.

I woke up to a glorious Wednesday morning, alive and ready for life!  I walked out of the house, smiling and ready to pick up my friend for breakfast. 

Down the driveway I walked, though more slowly once I realized my car wasn’t in the street right in front of the house like I had expected.  Well that’s odd, I thought.  No bother though—I must have parked it up the street a ways is all.  And so on I went.

But walking up the street, I could see no sign of it.  My eyes glanced left and right.  Was it towed?  Was it STOLEN?  Something had clearly gone wrong. 

And then, in a moment like one of Raven’s psychic visions, it came to me all at once. 

Usually I walk to campus, but the previous night a friend needed me to drive him there, so I dropped him off and parked my car at a meter.  Later that night I walked giddily home, completely oblivious as to the whereabouts of my car.  I stayed up until 5 A.M., and never had a thought about it.  It was this picture of an entire night of splendid revelry in friends and life—all while my car sat innocently at a street miles away—that flashed before my eyes.

Needless to say, our society is quite discriminatory against people with bad memories. My friend adding, “Oh don’t worry, they don’t ticket on holidays” moments before discovering the ticket on my windshield did not help in any way to alleviate this fact. And actually . . . after thinking about the traps society tends to set for forgetful people, I have suddenly remembered the four items I have checked out of a library that were due last night.  I might need to just go return them now. 

The night sky is a picture of the past.  That is why people with bad memories like to look at it so much; it is the ultimate cheat sheet we have always wanted.  It may be the case that many stars and galaxies have since died out, but the night sky shows us exactly how things used to be long, long ago.  Thus, those of us with bad memories relish this wonderful fact and often look up and say, “Ahh . . . remember the good ole days when things used to be exactly how they are right now?” 

But living in the present where life quickly and continuously unfolds all around us?  Here we hang on for dear life.