The Password’s Lasagna.

Be proud.  It took me two whole weeks to post a picture of a butt.  You’re welcome.

You know how you thought you’d never grow up?   Maybe not everyone nursed morbid thoughts of dying young from extinct diseases like I did, but come on.    Did you really think you’d be here, now, reading this stupid blog and drinking coffee or whatever, and feeling stiff because you like, stood up from your chair more quickly than normal one time last week?    Didn’t you honestly, secretly think that when you were an adult, you’d still be a kid at the same time?    Like, you would have all the same hopes and dreams, but you’d actually be able to carry them out?    That would be cool, wouldn’t it?    And terrifying.    We should all be thankful that the world doesn’t work that way, actually.    But maybe we should stop pretending we never were that kid, at the same time.    You may have changed in a lot of ways, but you weren’t once a child.    You are you, and you have been a child and yo...

People should never acknowledge each other when they’re out doing their respective exercisings.  It’s always a little awkward and one of us usually has snot in places snot shouldn’t be, like on our teeth or elbows or somewhere.  Also I just spend fifteen minutes trying to spell “exercising” with two c’s.  “Ya!  I just spend, what you say, fifteen minoots at it?  Yah?”  Sorry, that was a typo.  I meant “speant”, obviously.   I didn’t draw the snot because I wanted to keep this G-rated, but it’s there. Just use your imagination.  

Hey World!   I spent half of this week on a trip home (or, there and back again), which means I’ve found myself with four blog posts to publish in one day.    Fortunately I’m a super genius and wrote them all ahead of time.    Except this one.    And the other ones.  Lettuce  just say that this morning I found myself frantically pounding out words, trying to think of funny stuff that wouldn’t leave you drooling into your keyboards.   This desperation led me down the age-old path of self-searching that all humorists encounter at some point in their lives...that is, asking myself, “what  have I done lately that was very, very, very stupid?”    There were a terrifying amount of options, but the first to come to mind was this:    I’ve been meaning to mail a Christmas gift to a friend since before Christmas.    It’s been sitting on my counter, wrapped and taped and addressed, for the last month.  ...

In honor of the 12 inches of snow that fell last night (it’s okay, by the way...it only recieved minimal trauma and was quickly stabilized), I couldn’t resist a snowman cartoon. And since snowmen cartoons aren’t very legit (Think about it.  There’s nothing easier to draw than a snowman.  There is nothing easier to make jokes about than snowmen.  Except maybe toilets and llamas.), here’s another one for good measure.  Enjoy, drink some cocoa, and I’ll be back with more next week!!

                                        You’re worth it.                                                                  La de da de yay you.

Yesterday I managed to have an entire conversation with someone who was actually not talking to me at all.   If you’re wondering how that’s possible, two words.    Eye  contact.    If someone is looking at you when they start talking, and doesn’t correct you when you respond, and is talking about a very vague subject which could apply to anyone in the room, it’s an easy mistake to make.   You know how you’ve waved at people who weren’t waving at you, but at someone behind you?    It was like that.    Except it lasted five minutes.    I thought about flipping my car on the way home but decided it would be more satisfying and dramatic to sing along to “Shout” at the top of my lungs while weeping.   It’s a cruel world.