I was out driving the other day, and this dude just pulled out right in front of me, which kindled my wrath against him, and thus I honked at him.  But instead of cussing me out or looking embarrassed or anything, he started waving frantically at me and leaning out his window, like he was trying to tell me something important like, “No, no, don’t honk, It’s okay, I’m a leprechaun!”  Or, “Shhhhh, quiet, I’m actually a ninja on an important beer run and you’re blowing my cover!”  It kinda worked though, because after that, I wasn’t as mad at him anymore.

            My dog is going all gray around the snoutular region, except for this one little patch under his nose.  All of which is well and good, except for the fact that when he looks at you head-on, he kinda looks like he’s got a Hitler moustache, which rules ineffably.

            If I were Asian, I’d be mad as hell, because I’d be the only race and/or ethnic group that Hallmark doesn’t make personalized greeting cards for.  Well, Asians and Morlocks, but they’re not really that into greetings cards anyhow.  Maybe if someone went and made a “Sorry I Ate All Your Eloi” card…

            I saw a fat guy the other day who was wearing a shirt with Star Wars writing on it, you know, where it’s all wide at the bottom and then recedes into the distance?  All I can say is that the overall effect was far from slimming.  Also, if you’re a fat dorky guy already, do you really want to be wearing a shirt that emphasizes both these unhappy truths?  Remember, just because it impresses all your homies down at the Android’s Dungeon doesn’t mean it’s gonna make Princess Leia throw her gold bikini at you in a fir of passion.

            At our church picnic, the pastor suggested that we let all the people with canes and walkers go to the front of the line, the problem is that in addition to old people, my church boasts a healthy population of pimps and 1920s plutocrats, like the Monopoly Guy, who doesn’t even need to jump ahead in line, since he can just ride up there in his little racecar if he wants to.

            Up near Winchester, I saw a sign for Triple K Fencing.  That’s got to be the least clever cover operation for the Klan since they tried to open up that Kappa Kappa Kappa sorority at JMU.

            Why is it that Hummers come with that reinforced, riveted down deck plating gas cap?  Are they just that much more likely to blow up?  Or are Hummers just so incredibly hardcore that instead of burning gas a bit at a time the car just ignites it all at once, then contains the resulting massive explosion right there in the unnecessarily badass gas tank?  Or is it just because the Hummer is already the universal vehicle of those tragically insecure in both their affluence and masculinity and a shiny gas cap is really just icing on the cake?  The world may never know.

            Speaking of things that other people have on their cars and I don’t, I got tired of being the only person left outside of the Amazon River Basin who lacks such a modern convenience.  But rather than getting rid of my van (since after all, my great-great-great-grand American folk hero Bigfoot Wallace whittled it out of a buffalo) I decided to create my own remote entry system out of a blue-butted baboon and a dinner roll.  You see, the baboon lives in my van all the time, eating blintzes, writing the great American novel, etc, and whenever I’m coming back to the car, I just carve the dinner roll into a mighty ocarina of remote vehicular entry upon which I play an aria of such surpassing and otherworldly beauty that it charms his little primate heart and he unlocks my doors for me.  Then I have to feed him the ocarina.  So, other than having to carry around a giant bag of dinner rolls everywhere, it’s pretty sweet.  Also, Ataxerxes (the baboon) is a big fan of the Bangles too, so we can totally jam out to all our favorite 80s hits whenever we’re on the road.