[Somewhere in in the 1970’s… cue creepy yet mysterious music] Oooooeeeeeeeooooooo! Mark… Mark! What do you want? Mark, it’s me. Well, actually, it’s you… you from the future. Ooooooeeeeeeooooo! You mean me. And please stop with that stupid music. It’s dopey. Whatever. Why are you wearing that white bed sheet?

If your wife ever asks you to stop at the store on your way home to pick up, oh, let’s say some apples… …just say “No.” Ha, just kidding. You aren’t allowed to say “no.” She tells you to quit your whining. It should only take a second. You run

I wish life came with a handle. A handle just like the one you find on your toilet. When the toilet is running, what do you do? Jiggle the handle. The toilet usually stops running and you can once again go about your business. Now what if stupid people had

I’m standing next to a huge bin of deep red apples. Next to me is a ginormous roll of stickers. Ferris-wheel size. And not just any kind of stickers, but produce stickers. If you’ve ever wondered who puts stickers on fruit. That’s me… The Sticker Guy. I am slow and

“You have to take the toaster pastry out of the package before you put it in the toaster,” I said to Carl, possibly averting a disaster of epic proportions. “I know that,” he says, pulling the fully clothed toaster pastries out of the toaster. “How stupid do I look?” Glad you asked,

I may not be the hero you expected, but I am certainly the hero you’ve been hoping for. And I show up when you least expect me… Like at the movie theater when the moron in front of you is talking on his phone when the previews begin. Hey pal,

You know what’s really overrated? Being “old enough” to sit at the adults’ table at family gatherings. Totally overrated. To think I wasted all those years at the kids’ table, hoping and wishing that I could sit with the “adults.” “So… how’s your job going?” “Nice weather we’ve been having

Some guys’ fathers taught them how to tinker and fix things. Others passed on house maintenance skills. And still others made sure their sons learned how to build stuff. Me? My father taught me how to hold the flashlight. Well, he didn’t really teach me. It was more like on-the-job-training.

Someone is knocking on the front door. Why in the world is there a doorbell if people are going to knock? Technology… whatever. I look through the peep hole then open the door as if I have a choice. “Good afternoon son, we’re from the police department. This is Corporal

I think a good way to start a novel is “It was a dark and stormy night…” which is quickly followed by “… and for once, there were no stupid zombies roaming the earth!” But then I would keep typing furiously because I don’t want people to think that this