Yu

B: "The guy at the gas station, his name was 'Yu'"

A: "His name was Chris?"

B: "No, that's what I'm saying, his name was 'Yu' Y-U."

A: "Why did I what?"

B: "No, you didn't do anything except for listen to me tell you that his name was Yu."

A: "I am so confused."

B: "Yu.was.his.name."

A: "No.I.was.n't."

B: "Forget it."

A: "What, what...you have to tell me."

B: "No he doesn't, he's gone."

A: "Who's gone?"

B: "Yu."

A: "I'm RIGHT HERE!"

B: "Yes YOU are, but Yu's over there."

A: "You.are.mental!"

B: "Maybe he is, maybe he isn't"

A: "Who is?"

B: "Yu is."

A: "No I'm not. You are."

B: "Exactly."

A: "Exactly."

[silence]

A: "Ohhhh... Now I understand. His name was 'Yu'. Third-person singular masculine pronoun and not second-person singular pronoun."

B: "Yep."

A: "Gotcha. That is confusing though. Imagine his birthday party: Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday to YU, happy birthday to you."

B: "Ya, or,

Hey! Where did the birthday cake go?'
'Oh, I ate it'.
'That was for Yu!'
'Yes? I know. Oh, shoot! Third-person singular pronoun...darnit!' Want me to get another one?'
"yea, you probably should."
"No. I'll get it, he doesn't have to...oh, yea. ok."


A: "That would just be a lifetime of confusion."

B: "Thou art correct."

A: "Hmm, nice one."

B "Thank ye."

[more silence]

A: "Hey, where did you get those cool jeans?"

B: "Guess."

Stock Photo Girl

For those of you familiar with NBC's The Office, or more specifically, if you're familiar with the show's leading character, Michael Scott, then you'll know that there are more than a handful of similarities between his character and mine own. While he is purely FICTIONAL, I like to believe that we both do some REAL stupid things. In a newer episode this season (4) Michael Scott falls enamored of* a stock photo girl in an office supply catalog. The news from office supply company that she had already died squanders Michael's hopes. While my dreams have yet to be demolished, I share with Michael a very, very special thing; I, too, have my own stock photo love. Let me describe her:

I walk by her every day on my way to my office, every day she retains that same beautiful and brilliant smile. No matter what has happened in the world, let it be thousands dying by earthquake (more on this awful disaster later) or confusion with Florida ballots, my stock photo girl continually provides a sense of hopeful optimism each and every day. There she sits, arms around two other nondescript stock photo people, simply dazzling, shining out to all who pass by. Or so I thought.

My only concern, (I mean, apart from having fallen in love with a 256-colored print on heavy card stock), is what the poster is advertising. As brilliant as my stock photo girl glows, the unfortunate truth is that her poster informs passersby of the harms of cervical cancer. I mean, with all the other problems in the world, why does my stock photo girl have to be ladened with these specific woes?? She had been my one moment of optimism each and every morning, and now all I can see when I look into her beautiful semi-gloss, dot matrix-printed eyes is cancerous pain (and the reflection of the light in the hallway). I have no more faith...

I can only hope my stock photo girl continues her luminous radiance and that she can stay strong through these hard times. We all need someone (300 dpi or greater) to look up to.

Love,

Chris

-----------------
*I am hesitant to print "falls enamored" and must admit that I attempted a Google search to find the correct transitive verbs I could use before 'enamored'. (Yes, I could use a 'to be' verb but that's just lazy.) I also found that 'of' is a more correct preposition to use with "enamored" than is "with". Shocking!

Friday the 13th

When I woke up in the morning three days ago, I was grimly reminded by a melted chocolate candy bar on my pillow that it was the thirteenth of June; a Friday. I went to the wash off the sticky remnants of my midnight snack when I found that my faucet was leaking. I rolled my eyes to acknowledge that this day would be formulaically unlucky. "Hogwash!" I shouted in attempts to prove to the governing stars that luck was mere happenstance and that Gregorian calendarial date had nothing to do with it. I mean, that while I couldn't find my car keys this morning, I have had many similar frantic mornings in the past. (Why, last Monday I had to run naked and dripping out of the shower to turn off not just one, but three different alarm clocks on snooze). Yet, simply for theoretical purposes, I decided to not take a single risk with Lady Luck, I showered quickly, washed behind my ears, wore clean underwear, quickly bolted my house early and made sure not to step anywhere near the mud. As I drove out of the driveway, I looked both ways two times each. I'm not superstitious, but I'm damn well eager to avoid any astrological influence. The traffic lights were all out from the storm the previous night and road crews failed to pull down the stop signs at the nearest intersection. I, again, looked both ways twice and pulled out at four miles an hour to make my turn. Nope, nothing was going to make this day unlucky for me, I maintained total control. I vowed not to breach from my normal routine. Well, that was until my insatiable craving for a McDonald's breakfast sandwich at Union Station hit. To deviate from my normal routine showed lack of foresight, but my voracity outweighed my veracity and I went ahead. Hold your breath readers as I recall what happened next: nothing. "Ah ha!" I quite literally bellowed, "I have defeated the prognostications of evil!" You should have seen the look I got in the middle of a packed train station McDonald's. Everyone was looking at me quite oddly. As happy as a pig in....as a clam, I continued on my morning commute. I took the bus, walked to my office and attended a morning meeting all without problem. It seemed to me that I had defeated Mrs. Misfortune (the nemesis of Lady Luck) until when I began to get ready to leave my office and take my briefcase from my closet that I noticed in my peripheral vision that I had completed my entire day with a massive chocolate stain on my rear end. No wonder the odd looks, I had just broken my own record for total unit stupidity accumulated in one month, and I still have two weeks to go.