Childish nonsense about farting and other bathroom stuff

(Note: This piece actually ran in a newspaper. What were they thinking?) My new editor probably should have thrown this work of filth at my feet and asked why I was trying to get her fired, but she didn’t. However, the nail-biting legal department, with their thinning hair and palpitations, urged me—and by “urged” I …

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I hate pedestrians, and they hate me back

A relatively silent war between pedestrians and motorists rages all across America. What began the battle of rolling murder machines and ice-cream cone-wielding foot soldiers is known only to criminal psychologists, but one thing is certain: Drivers forget they’ve ever walked and pedestrians cannot remember ever having driven a car. Tensions peaked this summer when …

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Celebrate good times but do it somewhere else

Father's Day—Harrumph! Well, not “harrumph” to that day in particular but to all observances. Regardless of the reason, national holidays, personal anniversaries, they all just seem like so much superfluous self-aggrandizement. Yeah, yeah, I get it: we're supposed to honor those who blah, blah, blah. I'm still not buying in. But, then, I've always had …

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O Tannenbaum, o tannenbaum … I hate you

By the time you read this I will likely be safely behind bullet-resistant glass, gluing cotton balls to popsicle sticks in some clandestine nuthatch. The reason for my yuletide madness isn't birthed from your stereotypical booze-drenched dysfunctional family gathering—though I expect a fair amount of Mr. Beam's miracle mood enhancer will find its way into …

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