I'm Back. And Still No Cavities.

I went away for a while. I understand if you missed me. Everyone misses me. I even miss me sometimes. Like when I go to sleep I think, “Gosh, I can’t wait to wake up again tomorrow because I get to hang out with myself.” Hanging out is fun. Except when your privates are hanging out of your clothes. That’s not fun. Or is it? You know what is fun? The dentist. I don’t see why people don’t like going to the dentist more. It’s such a nice place. There are smiles everywhere, all sparkly and clean. You get to sit in a recliner and they give you gas. And not the kind of gas that makes people not want to sit by you—the kind of gas that makes you laugh real hard and drift off to the land of tooth fairies and gum drops. Sugar free gum drops since it’s the dentist and all. And what other doctor do you go to where you get to spit in their office then get a prize at the end? I love prizes. If they were smart though, they’d make those prizes candy and cigarettes, not toothbrushes and floss. Candy and cigarettes would get us back in there faster. Toothbrushes and floss will leave them with an office full of empty recliners. “You may be a dentist, but you’re no business man.” That’s what I’m going to say to my dentist next time I see him. I bet he misses me.

Just So You Know

Just so you know, when you take your own picture…everyone can tell. And it makes you look like you have no friends. Which makes it harder to get friends. So just ask a stranger to take it…really, it’s for your own good.

'Tis the Season

Tis the season to be jolly, as they say. Though I don’t see what’s so jolly about singing chipmunks and fruit cake. Those two can go away to the manger and stay there. Just leave the eggnog and elves in place. They’re the highlight. Everyone loves a midget in costume and some nog. Some spiked nog. Some heavily spiked nog. That and buying gifts. I love to buy gifts. Gifts for myself mostly. Gifts for others don’t excite me. Especially since they never like what I get them anyway. Which is rude because that gold fish was hard to win and so what if he was upside down. He was just resting his eyes. That’s why this year I’m doing all my Christmas shopping at the grocery store. You can’t go wrong there. Whatever it is you pick up, chances are someone needs it. Toilet paper? Need it. Canned beets? Need it. Spray Cheese? Need it. They even have free wrapping paper at grocery stores—paper AND plastic. And while you’re at it, you can pick up your egg nog. Just don’t pick up a midget, that seems to anger them.

Lather Rinse Repeat

Showering is important. If you don’t shower regularly, people don’t like you. Luckily, I shower often. At least once a week. Which doesn’t explain why people don’t like me, but I know it’s not because I don’t shower. I like a good hot shower. Except if I’m tired and yawning a lot. Because then I choke from all the water that gets into my mouth. The only water I like in my mouth is the vodka kind. Other than that, it shouldn’t be put in my mouth. And neither should soap. Sometimes shampoo sounds really good though. Green tea and honey extracts. Nourishing coconut milk. Spicy pepper jack cheese. Don’t be fooled by the labels though—They still taste like soap. And they burn your tongue. And then you have to rinse your mouth out with water. And it’s not the vodka kind. And your naked. And if your naked and there was no vodka involved then it’s all a mystery to me.

Aisle 2

Sometimes I buy groceries. Like when I’m hungry. Or on the wagon. You should never go to the grocery store when you’re off the wagon though. Or under the wagon. Or even next to the wagon for that matter because you don’t need diapers when you don’t even have children. Or maybe you do. I find the people at these stores very considerate. They smile, say hello and even move to the side when you lose control of your cart and can’t stop because your foot is stuck in the cart’s undercarriage from a trick-gone-wrong. Those are some nice people. Not so nice when it comes time for check out though. Slamming down that plastic item divider on the belt. I thought we were friends. You were laughing so hard you cried when I started that food fight in the produce section. Or were you just crying? It’s not like asparagus is sharp. Or even hard for that matter. Except if it’s frozen. I love frozen peas. And popsicles. Popsicles that aren’t frozen I don’t like though. I guess that would be juice. Juice could sting your eyes. But the asparagus couldn’t have hurt that bad. Not bad enough to deserve the divider; the Berlin Wall of grocery stores. My Popov and Robitussin aren’t even close to your Triscuits. You won’t see me throwing down the plastic. Unless it’s to post bail. Or play some Twister. Now that’s a game. Where’d these diapers come from?

Just So You Know

Just so you know, aquariums should serve sushi. Because you’ll always know it’s really fresh. And who doesn’t love fresh sushi?

Let Us Give Thanks

Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday. Well, favorite right after Judgment Day. And It’s Not You, It’s Me Day. And Quick Open Another Bottle and Pour Some More Day. I just love a good holiday no matter what we’re toasting. But Thanksgiving, now that’s nice. Who doesn’t love a holiday that’s centered around eating your weight in high-calorie foods while wearing Pilgrim hats and shooting at your neighbors with a bow and arrow in a feathered headdress? Anorexic people, that’s who. And turkeys. And maybe your neighbors. But those neighbors should be thankful because that’s what it’s all about. And there’s plenty for them to be thankful for. Like the fact that Aunt Esther is on house arrest this year and won’t pass out on their lawn again; that the karaoke is loud enough that they get free live entertainment every year; that their electric bill will be cut in half because our Christmas lights are so bright they won’t need to turn their lights on for all of December. And maybe, just maybe, that I never was a good shot after the Jameson ran dry, so they didn’t get hit with that arrow anyway—just grazed. I can’t wait for Secretary’s Day.

Airports

I like to travel and nothing’s better than smooth travels. Actually, smooth anything is really nice, like smooth ice cream or smooth butter—virtually any smooth dairy products—and smooth skin and hair. But almost nothing beats smooth travel. And you know it’s a smooth trip when you’re seated next to a infant on the plane. Especially when it’s a red-eye. He should sleep like a baby, because he is a baby and you didn’t make that old saying up yourself, now did you? Someone who’s never sat next to a baby on a red-eye did. Good thing they serve cocktails at 30,000 feet, because that little guy seems upset—he’s going to need one.

Airports, in general, are really exciting. Most people there are going on vacation or traveling to visit old friends and family. It’s no wonder people in airports are always in such good moods. Especially the airport employees; so nice and personable.

Sometimes I go sit at the airport just for people to think I’m going on vacation. It’s a good way to make new friends. I put on my flip-flops and Hawaiian shirt. Rub some SPF-65 on my nose and hang out at e-ticket check in. I tell everyone how excited I am to work on my tan and take my surfing lessons. We share stories about our favorite trips. Well, I do most of the sharing, they’re busy hustling off to catch their flights and sending the TSA over to talk to me and escort me out. They must really like me, to make sure I’m safe like that. I love airports.

Instructions

There’s a lot of things out there that come with instructions these days. Car seats, soup cans, shampoo bottles…beer bottles. Usually these instructions come in quite handy. Except when you mix them up and twist off your car seat knobs and add a can of water to your shampoo then heat it over medium for 10 minutes, stirring occasionally. I hate when that happens, but at least I don’t have to work too hard at cleaning the pan. No, I just made that up. I don’t even have a car seat. But I do have a car that I drove to the art store the other day. I bought paints, brushes and paper. It’s been a long time since I painted. So long I bet no one even calls it painting anymore. I’m sure it has a new name now like pigment-liquiding or color-expressing. I got all set up to pigment-express myself but there were no instructions on the back of my paint tubes. Or my brushes. How can I make art—if that’s what they even call it nowadays—if there’s no instructions how to make happy little trees and Mona Lisa smiles? The toothpaste tells me how to brush. The door at the liquor store tells me how to open it. The envelopes in my mailbox from the IRS say “Open Immediately. This is Your Final Warning.” This must be some sort of oversight by the manufacturers. Hopefully it gets rectified soon so I can paint like the masters. I wonder if the masters lathered, rinsed and repeated with soup sometimes.

Just So You Know

Just so you know, if someone offers you a slice of gum. You should take it.
Because chances are...you have bad breath.

Returns

We’re lucky to live in a place where we can return things if we change our minds. Clothes, food, kids…if it’s not working for you, just return it. Swap it out. Get your money back. Store credit. Options options options. America is about options. I got gas last night—$3.89 a gallon. A few blocks up it was only $3.49 a gallon. So I turned around. I keep a siphon handy for incidents like this. Or for when I need to borrow some gas from someone else. Kinda like jumper cables only you have to make sure no one is looking. “Excuse me sir, I need to return my gas.” I said. It didn’t go very well. Maybe he just didn’t understand me. It can be hard to hear me through my ski mask sometimes. But it was so cold out. The back of the squad car was warm though. They should really have signs up saying “No Exchanges-No Refunds” at these gas stations. After all, this is America.

I’m DIY

I like to do things myself. Fix the dishwasher, mow the lawn, polish off the liquor cabinet. It’s much more satisfying to do it yourself. The other day I decided to put a new air filter in my car. I could have paid a mechanic to do it but it’s more fun to try on your own then worry for a few days that your car may catch on fire on the freeway because you put it in upside down. Or spilled too much vodka on it.

Another good DIY project is cutting your own hair. Or better yet, your friends hair. I find that the best time is when they’re sleeping. That way they’re already very still so you don’t have to waste all your Xanax in their drinks. Plus they get to wake up with a nice surprise. It’s just like Christmas. So if they’re Jewish it’s even more exciting.

Anti-Sam

I never really understood Sam Adams drinkers. I think you guys are all big fakers. Big New England loving fakers. Have you tasted that stuff? Wooh. So not a party in my mouth. If I had a bouncer for my mouth-parties Sam Adams wouldn’t be on the list. And neither would olives. Those guys can go hang out together someplace else and talk Revolution and The Acropolis or whatever olives and Sam Adams would talk about. And it seems if you live in Boston you have to like Sam. If you don’t you should probably relocate. Or go into hiding. Just don’t tell Paul Revere where you’re hiding. He’ll tell everyone.