Dear Kathy -

The countdown has begun.

July 7, 2009.

The pain begins. . . again.

Artwork by Allie Lee

Bought a Used, Wireless Keyboard and I'm Going to Take it for a Spin Around the Block

Lately I've been having these horrible flashbacks to embarrassing moments from my past. Most of them happen as I drive to work each morning. They are vivid enough to make me shriek out loud as I relive them.

It's not really a shriek. It's a more of an, AAAAGH GOD JEEZ WHUUU!

Now that I'm writing about these embarrassing moments, I can't remember any of them. There was a toga party when I danced with a really cute girl and she shoved me away from her because I kept stomping on her feet.

No. That's not one of them. I'm focusing on the ones that really meant something. The moments when I screwed up so badly that it actually altered the course of my life.

AAAAGH GOD JEEZ WHUUU!

Suddenly more than a few of these bad memories have come to mind but I'm really not going to share them with anyone; at least not right now.

I have on new underpants. They are expensive, high-tech underpants. It may seem foolish to spend money on technologically advanced skivies right now but I have a good reason for buying them. For one thing, they wick moisture away from your body.

I often wonder when I read about these space-age fabrics where the moisture goes once it's wicked away. Turns out that the moisture is transported directly to the outside of the garment. I know this because. . .

I wouldn't consider myself a fastidious person but I'm not altogether slovenly either. I'm clean. I keep myself clean. However, there are those rare occasions when I haven't tapped my wing-wang enough to insure that I have completely voided every inch (foot?) of my urinary tract of fluid. This means sometimes a few drops may make their way into my underwear.

Usually my cotton, boxer-briefs absorb the extra moisture but these new high-tech skivies sucked the pee away from the inside of my underwear and distributed it to the outside. I know this because of the curse of tan pants.

I looked down, panicked and then I silently went over the few tactics you can employ in this situation:

1. Find an object to hold in front of the area to hide the watermark as you make your way to safer territory.
2. Splash more water on yourself to make it look as if there was some plumbing accident that soaked your crotch and not your careless ding-dong manipulation.
3. If there's a hand dryer you can remove our pants and hold them beneath it while you pray no one else wants to use the bathroom.
4. You can go into a stall and get two wads of toilet paper. Place them on either side of the wet spot and rub them until the friction destroys the toilet paper. By the time the toilet paper wads have disappeared in your hands the mark of shame has probably vanished.

I chose option four. Should you find yourself in a similar situation, I strongly recommend option four.

I should go now. I've got my underpants, a stopwatch, a blow dryer and a huge glass of cranberry juice. I am prepared to devote the rest of my evening to science.

It's a Wrap. . .

They had glow-in-the-dark! I'll never understand why she chose pink over glow-in-the-dark.

Spiral Fracture of the Lower Left Tibia

She really isn't smiling all that much these days.