Help Your Son Burn The Neighbor Kid's Treehouse Down Day

Help Your Son Burn The Neighbor Kid's Treehouse Down Day!

Your son is an undesirable pre-teen and none of the other pre-teens in the neighborhood offer him membership into their exclusive little clubhouses. They claim that he is a homo who is poor.

"But we're not poor," you shout every night at dinner. "I've changed jobs and I had to take a pay cut. But I have stock options."

You know that stock options are a gamble, but their kids can't know that.

"Can they?" you ask the table. Your wife and son say nothing.

Bobby, the pale kid next door just opened a new treehouse. Everyone on the block has been invited up the ladder except for your son.

"This is an outrage," you shouted when you heard.

Your son said, "It wasn't just me. Kevin Waine wasn't invited either."

"Kevin Waine has MS!" you responded.

Your son just sulked. That was enough.

"We're burning it down."

"Dad!"

Your son is afraid that burning down the treehouse with his Dad will make him even less popular. A "Daddy's Boy" who "Burns places down when he's not invited inside." But you know that if your son doesn't act now, he'll be pushed around for the rest of his life. Just like your stock options, burning down the treehouse is somewhat of a gamble, and if you lose you'll be sent to jail and your son will be sent to a juvenile facility. But if he doesn't learn to take chances, those kids up in Bobby's treehouse will keep on climbing up that ladder so they can compose funny songs about how gay your son is.

Not gonna happen.

Happy Help Your Son Burn The Neighbor Kid's Treehouse Down Day!

Don't Buy The Baby Shoe Day

Don't Buy The Baby Shoe Day!

Today you will pass an indigent man selling a variety of what are apparently found and stolen objects spread on display across a woolen blanket. He probably uses the blanket to sleep underneath at night. Stop at the blanket and point at the baby shoes. Say, "I like those baby shoes. Would you break up the set and only sell me the left one?"

The man will laugh and say, "What do you need just one baby shoe for?"

Tell him that you have a baby who has only one leg.

The man will laugh harder. "Who ever heard of a one-legged baby?"

Tell him, "My daughter has already been through a great deal of pain. May I buy the baby shoe?"

He'll tell you that he can't break up the pair. Go home to your one-legged daughter and tell her that you love her, but her having been born with only one leg is putting a terrible strain on you. But reiterate that you love her and will continue to do so, but you can't help but resent God sometimes. Your daughter is one so she doesn't understand English yet.

Happy Don't Buy The Baby Shoe Day!

Shoot The Man In The Moon Day

Shoot The Man In The Moon Day!

Maybe your Dad was planning on using it to fend off the police when he realized they were coming for him. All you know is they took him off to jail before he could lock it back up in its case. You only came up to the walk-in closet because you like to go in and sit there for a couple of hours at a time when you get nervous and aren't sure why. As soon as you walked in you saw the padlock released and dangling from the latch of the box. You lifted the lid and there was the handgun, resting out of place as if he had taken it from the box but dropped it back in. Maybe the police got into the room before he was able to load it.

You check and it is loaded. Who knows? Maybe he changed his mind and came out with his hands up.

Your Mom is at the police station and she said she'll wait there all night. She didn't make any plans for your supervision. You're eleven now, but this is the first time that you've been left to spend the entire night in the house completely alone. Take the handgun from its case, go up to the roof and shoot the man in the moon.

This might be the only chance you'll have to use his handgun. When he gets back, he's sure to lock it up again. And since you were seven you've been dying to find out what the man in the moon will do if he gets hurt. You always thought you'd have to wait for a space shuttle to crash into it. But maybe not.

Just climb out on the roof late tonight, aim the gun at his splotchy gray face, and fire once. Then wait a while. It can take a long time for a bullet to travel that far into space. Maybe even all night long. Just lay on the roof and watch the moon for an expression of sharp pain or anguish. Or maybe just a small twitch. If you don't see any change, you either missed, or the bullet didn't get there in time to beat the sunrise. Shoot again tomorrow night, but earlier. And make sure to only shoot one time every night. Shoot more than once and the police will come and get you just like they got your Dad.

Happy Shoot The Man In The Moon Day!

Steal From The Shivering Sick Kids Day

Steal From The Shivering Sick Kids Day!

You are an accountant for a network of shelters servicing homeless children who have Leukemia and only one arm. You've given so much of your time to that charity that those shivering sick kids are the only friends you have. It's time to steal from them so that you can buy some real friends.

You're going to have to buy your friends because even the shivering sick kids would say that they wouldn't be friends with you if they were healthy and could walk away from you in mid-conversation. And you've been hanging around with them so much that you don't know how to make conversation with the healthy. What do you say to someone if they aren't screaming in pain and constantly trying to grab stuff with an arm they keep forgetting isn't there anymore? Even if you did have the time to go out to bars and make friends with strange people, how do you reach out to someone who can hold down solids?

If you want some healthy friends who aren't one-armed children, you're going to have to steal from the charity and buy an Xbox for everyone that you'd like to be your friend. If they start to get bored with your friendship after a while, which they will, buy them some games. When they grow weary of the games, buy your friends some ski weekends away with you. Eventually the charity will catch on to the embezzlement and you'll be arrested, but by then you'll have more than enough close and supportive friends to initiate a letter-writing campaign demanding your release.

See? It's fool-proof!

Happy Steal From The Shivering Sick Kids Day!

Everyone But You Is Rich Day

Everyone But You Is Rich Day!

This evening, when you walk inside the bar to meet the woman you invited for drinks, you'll quickly discover that everyone in the bar but you is very wealthy. The first real sign of this is their coats. You can always tell someone's wealth by the cut of his coat. Everyone but you will be wearing wealthy people's coats.

The second sign of this will be when you get spotted by the bartender and he points at you while ringing a cowbell. Everyone in the bar will reel around at you and start screaming, "The Poor! The Poor!" They'll quickly slip face masks over their mouths to prevent contagion and as you walk through the bar to your date they'll all flick lit matches at you to warn you away from touching them or sitting on the empty stools next to them.

"Come here often?" your date will giggle through her facemask.

"Not the friendliest of clientele in here," you'll say.

"They're just scaredy cats when it comes to the poor," she'll say.

Ask her, "What makes you so brave?"

She'll peel off one of her rubber gloves and touch your hand with her bare skin. "Perhaps I'm so bored I could do with a little contagion in my body."

You'll get excited because she's making it pretty clear that she's going to bring you home to have sex with her, and whenever you have sex with rich people they give you something to eat afterwards.

Say to her, "Why don't we get the check and go someplace a little more welcoming. Like your Penthouse apartment."

She'll say, "You read my mind."

Say, "I did." Since you're poor, you know how to read minds. You also know how to steal electricity from the utility company.

She'll ask, "You don't have any children you're trying to win back through the legal system do you?"

Say no.

"Because I won't have any part in that. I just want to be intimate with you. I won't retain a lawyer for you."

Say she has nothing to worry about. Don't tell her about your daughter until after the sex, when she'll be so blown away that she'll phone up the most expensive lawyer in town for you and put it on her tab.

Happy Everyone But You Is Rich Day!

Set The Genie Free From The Magic Lamp Day!

Set The Genie Free From The Magic Lamp Day!

When the little green Genie appears from the puff of smoke, he will thank you for setting him free.

"As a gesture of my gratitude, I will grant you three wishes. Anything that you desire is yours. Your worst troubles and greatest calamities will disappear. All that you have to do is speak it so that I can hear, and it shall be done!"

Don't say anything. Just stare at the Genie for a second, then go back to looking out the window.

"Any wish you wish, it is yours," the Genie will say.

Ignore him.

"Hey, did you hear what I said?"

"I heard you," say to him. Don't bother looking at him.

The Genie will float up near your shoulder to look out the window with you.

"What are you looking at?" the Genie will say.

"So much gray," say, less to him and more to the inevitable. "Such ghastly gray. It's so cold and bleak."

The Genie will look at the unseasonably sunny day outside. He'll think to correct you, but instead he'll try to just get the wishes over with so that he can go out into the world.

"Ahem. Once again, if there is something troubling you, simply wish that it be gone and you'll never have to think on it again."

Tell the Genie, "You can't help."

The Genie will say, "But I can do anything. Anything at all."

"Can you make the gray go away?"

The Genie will again look out the window.

"I…I could. If I could see any gray."

Just nod. "You can't help. No one can help."

The Genie will sit by you for a moment, unsure what to do.

"I don't normally do this, but I'll let you wish for unlimited wishes if you'd like," he'll say.

"I just want to be left alone," say.

The Genie will say, "I can grant you that. But that is only one wish. If you wish for me to go, you must say that you release me from my debt to you for having set me free."

Say, "Fine, I release you. Now get the fuck out of here. Just leave me alone."

The Genie will begin to thank you, but he'll fear another outburst. He'll float to the door, then he'll stop just before leaving. He'll turn to you and say, "Feel better."

Don't acknowledge him. Just let him go.

Happy Set The Genie Free From The Magic Lamp Day!

Choose Who To Eat Day

Choose Who To Eat Day!

The Oceanliner sank a couple of days ago and everyone in the lifeboat is getting hungry. It's time for you all to choose one passenger on the boat who will be killed and eaten by the rest. You've been doing a lot of the navigating, so the others look to you as their leader.

"This is a very tough decision." say. "It's a burden that shouldn't be left to just any one of us. We should vote on it so that everyone is in agreement. It's the only fair way."

One of the passengers will shout out, "I vote Chris! He's the fattest. He takes up the most space and has the most meat."

A few others will murmur agreement.

Put it to a vote. "All in favor," say.

Everyone but Chris will raise their hands.

"All opposed."

Chris will raise his hand.

"Well, that does it," say. "It has to be unanimous. We have to pick someone else."

Everyone will complain that no one would vote for himself to be killed and eaten by the rest.

"Oh, are you so sure?" say. "Well, let's just vote on everybody and see about that."

You'll spend several hours voting on everyone in the lifeboat. None of the votes will come out unanimous.

Say, "I see your point."

"What now?" a passenger will ask.

"If we can't share the burden, then someone is going to have to act," tell them. "One of us will have to rise up of his own accord and kill another passenger, so that the rest of us may eat. That man will have a great deal of guilt to grapple with as a result, but he will be remembered as a hero by the rest of us."

You and the other passengers will look around at each other, trying to read which of you will be the one to feed the rest. Finally, you'll jump up and lunge at Chris. He'll throw you over the boat. Then another of the passengers will lunge at Chris and will also be thrown from the boat. Then one by one, the remaining passengers will lunge at Chris and one by one they'll be thrown from the boat until only Chris is left. You'll all float together, shouting at Chris to come about and save you. But Chris will just float away in the lifeboat, alone. And you'll all bob in the water together, shouting for a while, then things will grow more quiet as some of you start to slip beneath the surface. It won't be long before you all grow tired and you stop swimming and you let what happens happens.

Happy Choose Who To Eat Day!

She Agreed To Touch Your Thing At The Top Of The Ferris Wheel Day

She Agreed To Touch Your Thing At The Top Of The Ferris Wheel Day!

She's a beautiful cheerleader who's failing English. You're a lonely nerd who is ugly and smart. She came to you last week and asked you to write her term paper for her.

"If I don't get a B on that term paper, I'll repeat the whole year," she said. "I'll do anything in return. I'll even take you shopping to buy cool clothes so that you can be accepted by the cool kids. Maybe you'll even find out that you were cool all along and you just needed to be invited to the cool party. I'll even pretend to be your girlfriend if you want," she said.

"Touch my thing," say to her. "On the top of the Ferris Wheel at the carnival. Just like all the girls do."

Her face will scrunch up in disgust. "I've never touched a boy's thing on a Ferris Wheel," she'll say. "I've never even been to the carnival."

Say, "You want to pass English?!"

She handed the paper in on Friday and she'll get her B+ back today. Which means tonight, she has to ride the Ferris Wheel with you and touch your thing when your car reaches the top.

At the beginning of the second revolution, when they start pausing the cars in place, you'll pull your thing out and be ready to go. This way she won't have to waste time fumbling with your zipper. Once the car stops at the top, you'll look over at her. She'll have her eyes closed. She'll lift her hand and move it towards you. She'll lower it just inches above your thing before she yanks her hand back and wraps it around herself.

"I can't do it!" she'll say. "It's just too gross."

Zip up. "That's okay."

She'll say, "Really?"

"I mean, I was really hoping to finally have my thing touched," tell her. "But I can't make you do what you don't want to do."

She'll say, "But you wrote my paper for me."

"I like writing papers," tell her. "If you don't like touching boys' things, it's not a fair deal."

She'll say, "To be honest, I do kind of like touching boys' things. But not as currency. I don't want to have to touch someone's thing just because I'm doing poorly at school."

Say, "You shouldn't have to. You're right. But not everyone is as forgiving as me out there in the real world. For example, if you are ever given a high-paying job in exchange for touching the job interviewer's thing, and you try to back out of it, not only will he take back the job but he could break your thumbs. As if to say, Don't wanna touch my thing, eh? Then I'm gonna make it so you won't be able to touch anybody's thing."

She'll say, "That really happens?

Tell her, "It could. If you bite off more than you can chew."

The ride will come to a stop and the Carnie will open the gate on your car. But before you can get off, she'll plant a long wet kiss on your lips. "That's for being so nice to me," she'll say.

You'll be on cloud nine, until you step off the ride and start getting beaten up by the football team who all saw you kiss her. The football team doesn't like it when their cheerleaders kiss people who aren't on the football team. Though your lips will be swollen and you'll have to have your jaw wired shut, you'll still feel that kiss on your lips. You'll feel it all the way to the hospital.

Happy She Agreed To Touch Your Thing At The Top Of The Ferris Wheel Day!

The Fishermen Day

The Fishermen Day!

Today, you and your Fisherman friends are going to catch twenty-six pounds of bass and one human child's skull. The skull will belong to Danny Bader, a boy who disappeared in the twenties when he stood up to bootleggers who used to use the Harmony bridge to bring their illegal booze across that lake.

Danny Bader became the face of the local effort towards prohibition. "I think the world is so much more beautiful now that my Daddy isn't drunk," it used to say above his face on posters asking people to rat out Rum-Runners. "Please help my Daddy stay a good Daddy while I'm still alive," it said. "Did I mention I have cancer?" it added.

The story has it that Danny Bader wasn't happy with just being a face on a poster. When he saw that the alcohol in the city wasn't going away, he decided it was time to try to stop it at the source. He went to the bridge one night, alone, confident that if he just stood in front of the trucks they would have to stop. Because the drivers would not be able to plow right over a sick little boy that all the city knew and loved. He was never seen again.

Take the skull to the police, in the interest of perhaps finally settling the mystery surrounding Danny's disappearance once and for all, and maybe even charging those responsible for his death, if they are still alive. The police will conduct some tests and declare that the drivers didn't even see Danny, and plowed right over him. They stopped when they felt the bump of little boy under their tires. They tossed him into the lake, then excitedly kept driving into the city knowing that the movement to shut them down had lost its cancer-ridden spokesboy. The mystery will be solved with the declaration that the pitiable face of prohibition died in a kind of pathetic and pointless accident.

Ask the police how they can tell all of that just from the look of a decades-old skull. The police will say, "DNA!" Let that satisfy you and go eat some bass.

Happy The Fishermen Day!

Take Your Cats To The Observation Deck Of A Skyscraper Day

Take Your Cats To The Observation Deck Of A Skyscraper Day!

Show them the view of the city and tell them, "This is what man has created for himself. This is the sort of world man desires."

Your cats will try to squiggle out of your arms. Hold them tighter as they moan and meow.

"Yes," say. "It must be frightening for you. It is almost as if man is trying to build something tall enough that he can finally look God in the eye and say, See? Look at what I have made of this Earth where you try to keep me."

One of your cats will slip from your arms and run back onto the elevator. Everyone on the elevator will shout with joy that a kitty has chosen to ride with them. The elevator doors will close and the car will descend to the ground.

"You are incapable of creating anything but waste," you should explain to your remaining two cats. "You don't try to speak to God."

Happy Take Your Cats To The Observation Deck Of A Skyscraper Day!

Fill Your Pockets With Glitter And Confetti And Then Step In Front Of A Speeding Bus Day

Fill Your Pockets With Glitter And Confetti And Then Step In Front Of A Speeding Bus Day!

You should also have big handfuls of the glitter bunched up in your fists and wads of confetti stuffed in your coat as long as it has an elastic waistline to hold it all in. This way, when the bus smacks into you, the glitter will burst in a fat twinkling cloud enveloping the entire bus in the shiny rainbow-colored beauty. The bus will roll right over you and then come to a stop. The door will open and the driver and some passengers will file out to the street.

But they won't be looking at you. They'll be looking up at the sky at the granules of rainbow and all that confetti showering down upon the street as if someone just won a war. They'll watch it all fall down, turning the street where you died into something magical.

"It's looks like a fairy tale," the bus driver will say.

The driver and the handful of passengers following him will approach you to find out whose death it was that brought such enchantment upon the world. They'll look at you in your ripped and bloodied Gap jacket and your Levis jeans and Nike sneakers, one foot wrenched backwards, and they'll be silent. The angel looks just like them. The angel is out of shape even. The angel that God just summoned back to heaven still has a Philadelphia Phillies hat on his head. Glitter will continue to hover in the air and all of the passengers still on the bus will have their gaping mouths pasted against the windows, watching you as if a yellow light is going to shine down and carry you up to God. One of the passengers will push her way out the exit of the bus and fall to her knees on the street. She'll pray in Spanish.

Tomorrow, they'll all read about you in the news. Nothing about you having been charitable or religious. Just about how you were married briefly when you were 22, how your mother died seven months prior, and how you were convicted two and half years ago of misdemeanor trespassing after you were discovered inside the women's locker room at a health club where you were temporarily employed as a hawker for a sports drink promotion.

Happy Fill Your Pockets With Glitter And Confetti And Then Step In Front Of A Speeding Bus Day!

Pretend You Know Where There Are Some Drugs Day

Pretend You Know Where There Are Some Drugs Day!

All your life you've been passed over, butted in front of, and held down to be peed on by people who knew where there were some drugs. The guy who knows where there are some drugs always gets the special treatment because everyone in the world needs drugs, even people who don't do them. Some people need drugs because they're in love with somebody who won't love anyone back unless they have drugs in their pockets. Other people need drugs because their daughters are addicted to drugs and will run to the city to be prostitutes if their fathers don't come home every night with their pockets full of drugs. But then there is the vast majority of people who need drugs because every time they open their eyes they see nothing but ugliness, and nothing is ever uglier than when they look in the mirror.

You've never known where there are drugs, but you don't really have to know for real in order to get people to pay attention to you. Generally, the guy who knows where there are some drugs reveals that fact when he first shows up to places in order to be given complimentary appetizers. But he never bothers to take anyone to where the drugs are until two or three AM, when it's clear who he is and is not going to have sex with later. By that time, most of the people who wanted to go to the drugs have either disappeared or are out back fighting with knives.

Often, the guy who knows where there are some drugs never even tells anybody where they are. But no one bothers him about it because they're afraid he won't take them with him if he decides to go to the drugs. It's pretty easy to fake if you can be convincing about it. In order to trick everyone into thinking you know where there are some drugs, just wear nothing but clothing made out of human baby skin, and replace one of your real eyes with a solid black glass one. You can bet that tonight you won't have to wait two hours for the DJ to pick your name at karaoke, Drug-face!

Happy Pretend You Know Where There Are Some Drugs Day!

Kiss A Boy Right There In Front Of Everybody Day

Kiss A Boy Right There In Front Of Everybody Day!

Tonight, you have to kiss a boy somewhere where everybody can see you so that they can stop their conversations to say, "Check it out. Corner booth." Or "Check it out. Third Pew." Or, "Check it out. Top bunk."

Obviously, for it to be a big deal to do it right there in front of everybody, the "everybody" in question should be composed of people who would be interested in the fact that you've planted your lips on the boy in question. So they should either be your friends, family or coworkers, or the boy's. And the kiss itself should be significant. Perhaps everyone in the room knows that you haven't allowed yourself to get close to anyone since your husband died two years ago. Or maybe everyone in the room knows that the boy you're kissing just got married to someone else because you're all at the wedding reception. Or you yourself could be a boy who has tried to pass for straight for thirty nine years now. Or maybe everyone in the room knows that one of you is waiting for Ebola virus test results to come back. Or maybe your breast is hanging out of your dress. It happens. At the least opportune moments. It happens. Stop trying to pretend that it doesn't happen. Breasts fall out of stuff. It happens.

Happy Kiss A Boy Right There In Front Of Everybody Day!

Rescue A Stray Kitten, But Only If It's In Grave Danger Day

Rescue A Stray Kitten, But Only If It's In Grave Danger Day!

Any do-gooder can go down to the pound and rescue a kitten from a box. But only the bravest of pet lovers can rescue a kitten from a burning building or a bank robbery. So head out on the streets until you find yourself an adorable little kitten with a gun pointed at its fuzzy little ears. If you look on the wrong side of the tracks, you'll find lots of kittens that are looking at rock bottom and are willing to do whatever it takes to stay alive just long enough to experience Heat. No matter how dangerous.

These are the kittens that await your rescue. The at-risk kittens who are ready to courier cute wittle bags of bwack tar hewoin in between their cute wittle teeth just to get a little hunk of tuna scraped onto the floor from a dwug dealer's sandwich. These kittens are rolling in and out of cars where they frolick and adorably bat at rearview mirror ornaments for ten bucks a shot. These are the kittens that are smoking rocks and shooting up day care centers just because they wanna hear somebody scream.

Rescue them, pet-lover. Not only will you be saving a kitten's life. But you'll weaken the ranks of the scumbags that are turning this city into a war zone. One cuddwy wittle baby at a time.

Happy Rescue A Stray Kitten, But Only If It's In Grave Danger Day!

Get Your Free Gift Day

Get Your Free Gift Day!

You decided to open up a checking account at Great Coast Bank because they offered the best free gifts. You could choose from a golf putter, a "Day of Heaven" at a recommended local spa, two pot brownies, an "Orgy Map," or a date with the account representative who opens up the account for you.

"Tell me about the Orgy Map," you should ask. Your account representative will be trim and beautiful and married. She'll look a little like an ex-girlfriend with whom you had a pleasant but inconvenient relationship (she drove freight trains cross country).

"It's a comprehensive map of five neighboring counties that pinpoints where orgies and consenting adult singles parties of all varieties take place. The type of consenting adult singles party or orgy is color-coded, with each color defined in the key on the back of the map. For example, a red triangle on the map offers indicates that at that particular location, an orgy will be taking place and paid prostitutes will be present," she'll tell you. It's something she's memorized.

"Sounds pretty handy," you should say.

"If you enjoy local orgies and consenting adult singles parties, it is very handy yes sir," she'll say.

While you think about it, she'll continue entering your information into her terminal.

Ask her, "If I were trying to choose between the Orgy Map and a date with my account representative, which would you recommend?"

Your account representative, Tracy, will bloom with a blush rising from her small smile. "Well sir, the one drawback of the Orgy Map is that it has not been updated in four months. We're expecting the latest edition to arrive any day now."

"And the date with my account representative?" say. "Any drawbacks there?"

"I'm afraid I wouldn't be a good substitute gift for a customer who might have been interested in the Orgy Map," she'll say. But not in a way that says she's wary of you.

"What about for a customer who just didn't like the looks of that ring on your finger," say.

Tracy's smile will disappear. "That ring is going to be coming off soon. It's a rough time for me right now and I won't be ready to start anything new for a little while I'm afraid. If you were to choose a date with me, I would certainly provide you with good company for the evening, just as our brochure indicates. But even if we hit it off, the timing would doom us I'm afraid."

Say to Tracy, "Then perhaps in six months to a year I'll need to open up a savings account."

"That would be a very good idea, sir," she'll say. Her smile will come back. "Provided our free gift promotion continues indefinitely."

"I hope it will. For now, I'll take the Orgy Map," say.

"Even though it's out of date?"

Explain to her, "It's hard for an Orgy Map to be out of date. Your average monthly orgy worth any salt has been known to be a recurring event for as much as fifteen and twenty years."

"People don't wanna give up a good thing," she'll say.

"People don't wanna go find a whole new bunch of uglies to fuck next to, what it is," tell her. "I'll see you when you butter that ring off your finger Tracy."

"I hope you will," she'll say. "And don't forget to sign up for online bill pay. We're having a free enrollment period until the end of the month."

"I'm a go home and do that right now," tell her, even though you're not going to go home. Instead, you're going to drive at a very unsafe speed to the nearest orgy you can find on that map. Your anticipation to attend an orgy will be so overwhelming you'll break out in a sweat. When you arrive at the orgy, before going inside, walk around the block to let your clothes dry off.

Happy Get Your Free Gift Day!

Get Chased Across Some Rooftops Day

Get Chased Across Some Rooftops Day!

When you wake up this morning, you'll walk out of the bedroom and you'll see the woman who brought you home last night hanging up her telephone. You'll ask her what's for breakfast, and the smile that bursts out on her face will give you pause. Nothing about your time with her has suggested that she was capable of smiling before her fifth drink's inside of her. She'll turn over the newspaper on her kitchen table, and then she'll get up and offer to whip up some eggs. As you'd expect, she'll open her refrigerator door on a whole lot of empty white nothing, and you'll flip the newspaper again and see your big stupid face blaring from the cover. You'll hear sirens approaching.

Once you get your pants on and out into the hallway, cursing yourself for going weak in a bar and letting someone take you home, you'll peer over the banister and spy the flat hats of policemen making their way upstairs. The only way to go for you is up.

And out onto the rooftop where you'll have a full block to be chased from roof to roof. The upraised barriers of the roofs will serve as hurdles and some of the policemen will tumble in the chase, but the most agile, and especially the plain-clothes detectives, will continue closing in. The horizon at the end of the rooftops will get closer and closer almost as fast as the cops behind you narrowing your lead. At the end of the block, you'll have one of three choices:

One: You can jump. Perhaps onto a lower roof or through a series of canopies, each breaking your fall a little bit more until it's safe for you to land in a bin a lettuce.

Two: You can stop and turn around, promising that if the cops come any closer you'll leap to your death on the street below and they'll never know who you were working with. They'll put their guns away, but you'll be shot immediately after. Everyone will spy a man with a rifle on the rooftop of a building across an intersection running into the entranceway of that building, forcing the cops to double back and try to beat him to the street.

Three: You can grab onto a rope ladder lowered from a descending helicopter. A gunman will lay down some covering fire to drop the cops to the rooftop while the chopper carries you away to the mountainside lair of whomever you're working for.

I'd choose three, so that this thing can prove to be far bigger than anyone might have guessed. It's always better when things are far bigger than anyone might have guessed.

Happy Get Chased Across Some Rooftops Day!

Sheriff Wallace Will Be The Last To Say Goodbye Day

Sheriff Wallace Will Be The Last To Say Goodbye Day!

The State Line will be five miles behind you when Wallace's flashing lights start to pop in your rear view. You'll pull over with a sharp brake and a veer onto the shoulder. Wallace follows in stride, though it's certain he noted the aggression.

"Lotta boxes back there. Can you see out the back with your trunk half open like that?" Sheriff Wallace will ask.

"Saw you didn't I?" you'll say.

Sheriff Wallace will tap his fingers on the rubber frame of your rolled-down window.

"Shirley's a handful," he'll say.

"Just like her Daddy?"

Sheriff Wallace will stop tapping his fingers.

"Whyn't you step out of the car?" he'll say.

"Was I speeding officer?"

"No," he'll say. "No you wasn't." He'll take some steps from the window and turn his back to you, waiting, staring down the empty road back home. You'll get out of the car and face him.

"You knew this was coming," you'll say.

"I knew," Sheriff Wallace will say.

"You know there's no chance you're gonna turn me around," you'll say.

He'll breathe deep, almost like his chest is tight. "Yeah," he'll say. "Yeah, I know she sent you on your way a long time ago."

You and Sheriff Wallace will look off in different directions at all the fields of nothing stretching out from the highway.

"I tried to raise my daughter strong, but I ended up raising her mean," Sheriff Wallace will say. "She know you're gone."

"She might know by now," you'll say. "I left a letter on the kitchen countertop. If Wilbur didn't eat it while he was waiting for his kibble, she might know by now."

Sheriff Wallace will nod. "Then you best be getting on before she comes looking for ya," he'll say. "I'll go back and see to her."

You'll hold out your hand for Sheriff Wallace to shake. It was good having him in your life. You'll be glad he pulled you over to say goodbye. He's meaner than his daughter and based on rumors, he might just as well have pulled you over to shoot you in the face as to say goodbye to his son-in-law. But—

"I always liked you," he'll say. "I always thought my daughter finally was thinking when she got you to propose to her."

You'll let go of Sheriff Wallace's hand and climb back into your car. He'll climb back into his and turn it around to go and calm his daughter down. You'll drive north and he'll drive south.

Happy Sheriff Wallace Will Be The Last To Say Goodbye Day!

Get Poisoned Day

Get Poisoned Day!

In order to get poisoned, you have to be the kind of guy that no one is going to just gun down on the street. People who might get poisoned are rarely killed in a chance mugging gone awry. And they also don't fall down and hit their heads on stuff.

People get poisoned when every single minute that they are alive is another minute of sorrow brought down upon the heads of thousands if not millions of people who love and live only to help their children struggle to survive in a world that offers nothing but poverty and random disappearances. To get poisoned, you have to lead. And you have to lead poorly, employing only fear to keep hold of your reign. You have to attain a level of such grave ignominy that even your most trusted of minions, the only members of your inner circle that you can still trust to bring you your food, can no longer deny that you must be removed from your throne.

Act swiftly and do the world wrong. You force your henchmen to taste your food, so they must be willing to knowingly ingest the poison root, but maintain composure long enough for you to believe that the dish is untainted. You will sup from the plate, and then you will watch your former friend and confidant fall to the ground and spew a small puddle of dark foam from his mouth. You'll see your friend go where you are soon to follow, and then you'll know: You just got poisoned.

Happy Get Poisoned Day!

Caramel Paul Day

Caramel Paul Day!

Caramel Paul is this big fat kid who loves caramel and you. Today, Caramel Paul is going to offer you some caramel.

"No one's been nice to me at this school because everyone thinks I killed my Mom and Dad," you'll say.

Caramel Paul will watch you eat the caramel he gave you and it will make him hungry for some caramel. So he'll sit down next to you and eat some caramel.

"I didn't, you know," you'll say. "They killed themselves. I woke up and they were in their bed with their wrists cut. Kids don't grasp specifics though I guess."

Caramel Paul will unwrap some more caramel and eat it. He won't offer you any more.

"I miss them still. They were so unhappy and I know they're at peace now, but I wish they hadn't gone away."

Caramel Paul will get up and walk away.

"Where are you going?" you'll ask.

Caramel Paul will say, "I'm out of caramel. I usually don't run out, but I gave you some. Now I have to go get some more."

You'll say bye. Caramel Paul will start to run to get to the store that sells his caramel. Today, he will have discovered that he loves you slightly less than he loves caramel.

Happy Caramel Paul Day!

The Face Of Funk Day

The Face Of Funk Day!

Today, yours is the Face of Funk. When they last met in Ontario, Canada in June of 2005, it was decreed by the Congress of Funk that today the Face of Funk would be that of a white, mustachioed male, with the beginnings of a double chin, and with one strange growth near the left ear that looks like two and a half warts but is just some fatty deposits. The growth, the Congress of Funk decided, should be the sort of growth that is not noticeable in the individual's day-to-day activities, but is usually discovered by lovers after approximately three intimate visitations, while the individual is sleeping and the lover is still awake because he or she can't sleep in strange beds for the first few nights of intimate visitations. The lover will usually stare at the growth, fearing cancer, or worse, warts, and will maybe touch the growth just barely so as not to wake up the individual. And the lover will wonder if she can do better then the bearer of today's Face of Funk.

Today is the first day in your life when keeping that mustache has proven to be a good idea, because as the bearer of the Face of Funk, you will be given a 2006 season pass to any Six Flags park in the country. Now if you'll excuse us, we have to get to a funeral. A Congresswoman of Funk OD'd on freebase last week. Very sad.

Happy The Face Of Funk Day!

You're The Dirtiest Day

You're The Dirtiest Day!

You and your younger brother have missed each other terribly ever since his company moved him to Portland. To make sure not to lose touch, you decided to engage in one of the contests you and he used to love to have when you were kids.

"No showering! Let's see who can go the longest!" you challenged.

"You're going down big brother," he giggled.

Today, your little brother is going to call and let you know that you've won. His new supervisor warned him that if he goes one more day without showering, he will be let go.

"Face!" you'll shout. "You are weak! Sad and weak!"

"I have a family," your brother will respond. "My daughter has a nervous condition. I need my insurance."

"I AM TRIUMPHANT!!!" you'll bellow into the phone. Then you'll carry the phone to the stereo and you'll hold it up to a speaker while a Smashmouth song blasts from it.

When you lift the phone back to your ear, you'll hear your little brother sobbing. Make fun of him. Grab the violin and start to play a sad dirge. The nice thing about not having showered for so long is that things like cell phones will stick to your ear without you having to hold on to them.

When you've fully relished your win, tell your brother in all sincerity that you miss him like you'd miss your own right arm and that you can't wait to see him at Christmas.

"I gotta go get cleaned up," say.

"Goodbye big brother," your brother will say.

"Goodbye little brother."

Now go into the bathroom and scrub at yourself with something made of wire. You're a little too late and you've developed a skin condition. See somebody.

Happy You're The Dirtiest Day!

Walter Isn't Sick Anymore Day

Walter Isn't Sick Anymore Day!

He's back at work today, thirty pounds lighter. But completely free of the mysterious respiratory illness that sent him to what many assumed to be his deathbed.

Walter's going to trot into the office like a little boy at Christmas, excited to see how you all decorated his cube and brimming to tell you about his near-death adventure.

The first woman he'll come in contact with is Marisol, the records administrator. He'll grab her in his arms and tell her how happy he is to see her face. She'll look up into his eyes and start screaming. When he sets her free from his embrace, Marisol will back away slowly, pointing at him and reciting prayers in Spanish. Then she'll make the sign of the cross and flee.

Walter will stay there at the door, trying to figure out what just happened. Then he'll shout out, "Hey everybody! I'm back!"

Slowly, the heads will rise above their cubicle walls, all eyes bugged wide with terror.

"Hey guys, man I sure am glad to see all of you again. What'd I miss?"

Their arms will rise and all fingers will point in Walter's direction. They'll start howling like demons until you are forced to hustle Walter into a conference room.

"We don't have much time," tell him. "They mourned you."

"But I didn't die," Walter will argue.

"You were sick for so long, the productivity came to a halt as we waited for word of your condition. As department manager, I decided it would be best that we all mourn you as if you were already gone."

They'll be pounding at the door to the conference room.

"So, they're under the impression that I'm…"

"Undead," tell him. "A zombie. Yes. Some of these people have been on this floor for thirty years. They only believe what they read in the body of a company memo."

The pounding will be growing louder. You can hear the wood around the door hinges begin to crack.

"You have to get out of here," say. "Climb up into the drop ceiling."

Both of you will get up on the table and knock a pane of the drop ceiling from its frame. The door will crack louder in the doorframe. Walter will be up in the frame, his legs dangling. Once, twice, a third crash and the door is off its hinges. Walter will hold his hand down to you and you'll grab it and be lifted up into the drop ceiling. In your memo to the floor, you made Walter dead. Now that he's walking, they assume that you brought him back to life. They believe you must both be destroyed before a race of walking dead is unleashed on the populace. The war between the army of the living and the army of the mistaken-for-undead has begun.

Happy Walter Isn't Sick Anymore Day!

On Your Sailboat, Tell Each Other The Truth Day!

Point the boat at the horizon, bring her by your side and say, "That's where we're headed. Where we've been headed since we first looked into each other's eyes. To the end."

She'll kiss you. Hold her shoulders in your right arm.

Say, "I been fuckin' dudes. For about twenty or so years now. Fridays before I come home from work, I stop off at this bar where you can meet a dude you don't know and fuck him in the walk-in freezer. The bar charges 20 bucks for fifteen minutes."

She'll ask, "Does the 20 include a drink?"

Nod. "A well drink or domestic tap beer, yes."

She'll say, "Good deal. I understand."

Kiss the top of her head.

"I'm an agent for the Tri-Lateral Commission assigned to monitor your movements ever since your alien abduction in 1959," she'll say.

"Alien abduction?" you'll ask.

"Those doctors were agents," she'll say. "The hospital was privately run by the commission and we built it solely to house and examine abductees. When you woke up and they told you you'd been food poisoned and had fallen into a near-coma for four days, they lied. You had been returned to the earth not eleven hours prior. The dreams you remember were real."

Keep holding her.

"Why tell me all this?" ask her.

"This sunset is just so beautiful," she'll say. She'll look up at you. "Monitoring your movements these 35 years has been the most wonderful assignment."

"I hope I didn't disappoint," say.

"Far from it," she'll say. "Even after all these years, you never cease to amaze me. I can't stop talking about you to my husband."

"You're already married?" ask.

"Actually," she'll say. "I married you first, but that wasn't a real ceremony. I met my real husband twelve years ago when you and I went to Portugal on our anniversary."

Just think about it all for a second. Then ask:

"So you're cool with the dudes?"

She'll kiss your cheek and say, "Live your life. Mankind only has two years and four months left. We at the commission have a saying. 'There's not gonna be a tomorrow, what with the construction of the heat ray being ahead of schedule. So let's get the partying done tonight.'"

Happy On Your Sailboat, Tell Each Other The Truth Day!

The Sk8r Boy Who Can Help You Day

The Sk8r Boy Who Can Help You Day!

The wise sk8r boy, Seth, the sk8r boy who is just a year and four months older, and a whole five inches taller than the rest of the sk8r boys, is the sk8r boy who can help you.

Seth sits on the wall more than he skates. He's not the best. His height is a disadvantage. But the rest of the sk8r boys look as if they're skating for him. When they come to stop on the lip, they look to Seth, trying not to beam. Seth usually sits next to his girlfriend, Mad. And the two of them are flanked by pairs and fours of sk8er boys at a time. They send their conversations back and forth past Seth, inviting him to comment whenever he wishes. Seth's going to college. Everyone knows that. Probably to study English or History. Everyone knows.

Seth is the sk8r boy who can help you.

"Hi Seth," say.

Seth will say, "Hey [YOUR NAME]." Seth remembers everyone's name.

"I have a problem," tell him.

Seth will look to his right and left and the sk8r boys flanking him will drop to their boards and disappear in the noise of a grind.

Sit by Seth's side and talk to him while he looks straight ahead.

Say to Seth, "Me and Patty are having trouble. She wants to break up because I'm spending too much time by my Mom's deathbed."

"What's your Mom dying of?" Seth will ask you.

Say, "Skin cancer. The doctor says it's spreading too fast."

Seth will reach into his bag, digging underneath sweatsocks and CDs and a sandwich and old tattered paperback novels and he'll pull out a vial of brown liquid.

"Give this to your Mom," he'll say. "A tea spoon every day. She should get better within about six weeks. Then you and Patty can spend more time together."

"Wow," say. "This'll cure my Mom's cancer?"

Seth still won't look at you when he nods yes. "I only hope it's not too late to keep you and Patty from breaking up."

Say, "Thanks Seth."

Seth will nod again. The sk8r boys will continue grinding away at the concrete. Mad will return to Seth's side with two bottles of Snapple. Say hi to Mad, then head over to your Mom's hospital. Remember, Seth is the sk8r boy who can help you.

Happy The Sk8r Boy Who Can Help You Day!

Discover One Of Life's Little Truths Day

Discover One Of Life's Little Truths Day!

Today you're going to find that when someone decides to walk away, no matter how hard you cry or how loud you scream for them to stay, they keep on walking away. You might figure this out in one of several ways. Maybe it'll be that your boyfriend of three years will shake you awake to see that he's wearing his coat and holding a small suitcase in one hand and his Vornado fan in the other. Or you could be a refugee from a war-torn land when the UN Peacekeepers who have been keeping armies away from your camp just start packing up and climbing into the back of their trucks. Or maybe you'll be at the Cheesecake Factory later today intending to spend your last seventeen dollars on something delicious. So you'll order the Fat Pig's Big Fat Plate of Chicken and Potatoes and the waitress will start to walk away and as you watch her take your order to the kitchen you realize you've made a horrible mistake and the last meal that you can ever foresee being able to afford is going to be just another disappointment. You'll pound on the table and make your waterglass tumble to the floor and you'll scream until your lungs bleed all about how much harder life has been for you than it has been for others. But the waitress at the Cheesecake Factory is just like an army of UN Peacekeepers or a boyfriend who's decided there's something better waiting for him somewhere. Once they decide to go, they're gone.

Happy Discover One Of Life's Little Truths Day!

You Just Stole A Truck Full Of Cigarettes Day

You Just Stole A Truck Full Of Cigarettes Day!

You're shrugging your shoulders as if to say, "Now what?!"

First thing you're gonna have to do is find a fence to move the goods. There's a fence outside of Miami named Corky (not retarded) Colon. He can move anything from dolls full of cocaine to assault rifles full of cocaine. He's also very handsome and you're going to sleep with him. He'll pay you three grand and you'll head back up North, but you won't even make it to Georgia before you notice something you haven't felt in quite a while.

Longing.

The memory of Corky's touch will be with you there in the car (Corky gave you a car to get back up North. It's full of Cocaine). You won't be able to get very far before you pull over into the parking lot of a Denny's and make a phone call.

"I was hoping…" Corky will say.

"Can I come back."

"Let my assistant, Joanie (not retarded) Masso meet you there. She'll drive the car the rest of the way and you'll drive her car back to me. The car you are driving is full of cocaine and if it does not arrive in New York tomorrow there will be a civil war in Colombia by the end of the week."

"I'll wait for Joanie," say. "Tell her not to obey any speed limits."

"I never thought I could feel this way again," Corky will say. "I thought I existed just to move things that are full of cocaine and the occasional truck full of cigarettes. Now I know I exist to hold you in my arms."

"Send Joanie," say. Then hang up and moon about the parking lot like a farting puppy you're so in love.

Happy You Just Stole A Truck Full Of Cigarettes Day!

Your Daddy Is A Truck Driver Day

Your Daddy Is A Truck Driver Day!

He's on the phone and your mother is telling him that you're pregnant. She's trying to get him to convince you not to abort.

"Your father wants to speak to you," your mother is shouting. "He's in Tulsa so hurry up."

You take the phone and say Daddy.

"Heard you was in trouble," your Daddy says.

You say yup. You say that you're going to take care of it.

"You know that's a sin right," he says. "You know it's wrong."

You say yup.

"As long as you know," he says. "I wish I could be there for you."

Tell him you know that he has to be out on the road so that you and your mother can eat.

"Still, I wish I could be there with you," he says.

Tell him you wish he could too.

Say, "Thank you Daddy."

He'll say, "Take care of your Mom. I'll be home right after Thanksgiving."

You say yes Daddy and you tell him that you love him. When you hang up you tell your mother that you're going to get an abortion and that you want her to drive you.

"Get a friend to drive you," she says. "I can't have my car in that parking lot."

You ask your Mom whether she ever got one and she says yes.

"It was the right thing to do, but I wish I could go back and not do it."

You ask your Mom if it was your Daddy's baby and she says of course.

Ask her if she's glad she didn't abort you.

She'll say, "Some days more than others." You'll laugh and laugh.

Happy Your Daddy Is A Truck Driver Day!

Make Everybody Pay Day

Make Everybody Pay Day!

Vengeful? Great! Cause today's the day you make everybody pay for what they've done. Start with the street gang that killed your mother as part of their initiation. Make them pay by locking them in a house and then setting the house on fire.

After that, wait next to the car that's parked in your favorite parking space until the driver comes back out. Lock the driver in a house and set the house on fire.

Next, go to the school where your roommate is substitute teaching and tell him that you're upset with him because he finished your orange juice. Don't lock your roommate in a house and set it on fire, because aside from the juice drinking thing, he's a pretty good roommate. Instead, take your roommate out to the school's parking lot, and then lock the doors to the school and set it on fire. Your roommate loves kids and it will break his heart to watch all those kids burn to death all because he was too inconsiderate to go out and buy his own juice.

Finally, go home and get Muffins, the kitten that refuses to love you, and take her for a drive. Find a long stretch of road leading up to a sharp turn underneath an overpass, and take off yours and Muffins' seatbelts. Tell Muffins that if she refuses to love you, you're going to drive the car into the wall of the overpass and kill the both of you. Muffins might call your bluff, in which case you'll die. But if she doesn't, you'll have yourself a kitten that loves you. What's better than that?

Happy Make Everybody Pay Day!

Don't Let Your Kids Grow Up To Be Assassins Day

Don't Let Your Kids Grow Up To Be Assassins Day!

Tell them that killing for money should be considered a "plan B."

Your kids will stop torturing the squirrel that they captured and ask you what it was that you really wanted to do if you didn't always want to be an assassin.

"I wanted to be President of the United States," tell them.

Your kids will laugh so hard that the squirrel will bite through its restraints and escape into the wild.

"I'm serious," tell them. "And I could have been President if I hadn't wasted so much time screwing around. You could too."

Your kids will laugh even harder at this. "No we can't," they'll say. "You brought us into this country illegally." This is the truth.

"I was speaking metaphorically," tell them. "You can be anything you want to be. Except for stuff that's prohibited by law."

One of your kids will say, "Killing for money is prohibited by law."

"That's right," tell them. "And yet I kill for money! See, anything is possible!"

Your kids will shake their heads and turn their backs on you. You'll watch them take the cat they captured out of its box and prepare it for torture. Then you'll go upstairs and pray to your dead father (they used to call him "Vito The Gun" because he never went a day without firing his gun at somebody's face) for guidance.

Happy Don't Let Your Kids Grow Up To Be Assassins Day!

Stop Giving Your Boyfriend Money To Fund The Design Of His Robot Day

Stop Giving Your Boyfriend Money To Fund The Design Of His Robot Day!

It's nice that you believe in your man. You have dreams of one day being revered for having stood by him even when the rest of the scientific community called him "a fraud" and "worse than retarded" and "just a guy who delivers beds for Scheinberg Sealy Serta." But he's determined that he has a grasp on AI and with enough funding and enough time, he will build the world's first advanced-functioning robot that will finally break down the wall between sophisticated computational programming and artificial intelligence. You don't know what gives him such strong conviction, but by-gum you're his lady and you're gonna stand by him.

You really shouldn't. You're a smart, attractive woman with the beginning of a good career in your grasp, and, well, not to sing along with the chorus, but he's just a guy who delivers beds for Scheinberg Sealy Serta. Doesn't it ever occur to you that maybe someone with a background in something like Robotics or Science or even College might have a shot at beating him to the big breakthrough in AI. There's this place called "M.I.T" where they do the kind of thing your boyfriend wants to do, and they do it really well. As far as I know, no one there has a concentration in mattress delivery in their Curriculum Vitae.

No one's saying break up with him. But last week you gave him $400 for "the little red light bulbs" he needed to build robot eyes. Today he's going to ask you for $400 more, claiming that he lost the $400 you gave him last week. "I think I dropped it in the park or maybe at the movie theater when I went to see 'Doom.' 'Doom' ruled." Just don't give it to him. You don't have to fight about it. Just say that you're out of money right now because your boss is docking your pay for smoking pot on the job. It happens to him all the time, so he'll buy it. And make sure to take all the cash out of your pocketbook and hide it, because in addition to the money he asks you to give him he also sometimes just roots through your pocketbook for twenties.

Happy Stop Giving Your Boyfriend Money To Fund The Design Of His Robot Day!

Roll Around On The Street In The Rain With Somebody Day

Roll Around On The Street In The Rain With Somebody Day!

Most people think you should only roll around on the street in the rain with somebody if you really think he or she is "the one." But times have changed and this city was founded on the kind of spirit that makes someone say, "Hey, we just met in a bar, and you look like the ex I call sometimes when I'm in hotels, so lets drop!" So if you two dig each other, forget about what your mama might say.

The problem is, when it's raining, motorists have more trouble stopping their cars to keep from running over people who are rolling around in the middle of the street. So wear white.

Happy Roll Around On The Street In The Rain With Somebody Day!

Watch A Man Finish His Last Cup Of Coffee And His Last Cigarette Day

Watch A Man Finish His Last Cup Of Coffee And His Last Cigarette Day!

Today, you'll be a little bit early to work, so you'll walk at a bit more leisurely of a pace. You'll look up at the buildings around you and you'll realize so much of your day just breezes by you without you noticing. The architecture of all the buildings, the signs on the storefronts, so many of them handwritten and misspelled. And all the people. Before you've even made it to work they look like they're already on a midday break, eating meals on the sidewalk and smoking cigarettes without any jackets on.

When a truck backs up into a garage, you'll be forced to stop walking and you'll look up at the building across the street. In one of the fourth floor windows you'll find a thin black man leaning on the windowsill, one of his hands hanging over the edge with a cigarette, the other inside the window lifting a coffee cup to his lips.

When the sidewalk is clear, you won't start moving again. You'll be too busy guessing at the context of that fourth floor window. You'll guess that he's in a stairwell, since even in those industrial buildings you have to head out to the stairwell to smoke anymore. You'll guess that this isn't a break for him. That he's not started his day yet and this is his first of many coffees and his last of a few cigarettes for the morning. You'll guess that he works at a job that's semi-administrative and semi-manual labor, like a mail processing center.

You'll watch the man tip the coffee cup all the way back to drain its contents, and he'll take one more drag of his cigarette, stub it out, then toss it to the middle of the street below. Then the man will climb onto the windowsill and he'll pitch himself through the window then tumble in the air to the sidewalk below. No one will scream for as much as ten seconds after he lands. The blood will start to flow out of his head after eight seconds. Only after the screaming begins and the crowd circles around him will you be aware that the man who was smoking in that window just jumped to the sidewalk to die. He didn't make a big deal about it is why you didn't notice right away.

Once you realize the man has just killed himself, you'll reevaluate the context of his moment by the window. He was on break, you'll decide. His day started as much as five hours ago. That was his last cup from thousands of gallons of coffee, and that was his last of thousands upon thousands of cigarettes. He definitely works in mail processing, and he really liked that coffee he was drinking. It was the coffee that he bought every day and that he loved. You'll wonder where he used to buy it.

Happy Watch A Man Finish His Last Cup Of Coffee And His Last Cigarette Day!

Steve Broke Up With Janet Via An Overpass Day

Steve Broke Up With Janet Via An Overpass Day!

Tonight at 5 PM, everyone's going to see it. Everyone with a 9 to 5 and a bitch of a commute is going to know. Janet's heart is going to break two miles deep in the heavy logjam leading into the Jackson St turnabout.

Spraypainted in valentine red across the expanse of the Turner Blvd overpass: "It's over Janet. I can't stay on the turnpike with you anymore. I'm hitting the expressway. Also, the sex has been pretty blech lately, am I right? Steve."

Janet won't call the house or his cell. She won't whip out her blackberry to see if there's an addendum there telling her what she can expect to find when she gets home. She'll know what is waiting for her. She'll sit in the dead-still traffic jam, staring up at her goodbye, and cataloging everything that's his, creating the vision in her head of all those negatives. In her vision, there will be blank white spots where his things used to be. Where he pulled a book off a shelf or a shirt off a hanger, white nothing so glaring the color of it hums. Her whole house will be humming when she gets there.

The easy smile on her face will be unshakable. He won't do this to her. These people are her fellow commuters. They've shared this traffic jam with her every evening for seven years now. They've stared across the lanes at her behind her wheel, wondering where she's coming from and where she's headed, what she's wearing underneath that skirt and what she's going to watch on TV tonight. They will not look over to find her crying into her hands and learn that she is the one whose relationship just ended on the side of an overpass.

She'll feel their eyes search her and her car's interior for any signs of disturbance. Like soldiers hunting down holdouts. She'll feel like they can see it, but that's silly. They know the make and model of her car and that sometimes she sings without being aware of it. They couldn't pull a Steve from so little, could they?

After some panicky breaths, she'll feel strong enough to turn her head and meet their gaze dead-on. She'll find their eyes are not on her, but are in their own laps. Their heads will shake sorrowfully from side to side. Occasionally her fellow commuters will look up at the overpass and then slap their steering wheels in anger.

They'll be with their Janet. Though they won't know which car is hers, they'll see this scrawl on the overpass as an assault on the commute and all those who take part in it day after day. "Steve," they'll say to no one in their cars. "Steve probably works from home," they'll say. "Probably trying to get an online business off the ground," they'll say. "Probably has more than enough time to come out in the middle of the afternoon and hang off the side of an overpass and spraypaint some filth that'll break the heart of his Janet."

"Janet," they'll say. "She's on her way home. She's looking forward to her home," they'll say. "She's been working where she doesn't want to be, just like me," they'll say. "And when she intended to do nothing but push ahead into whatever space she can find to just inch a little closer to home, she had to look up and find that nothing is waiting for her anymore."

All at once, every single one of them, alone in their cars and unbeknownst to each other, they will all say in unison, "Janet is me."

Happy Steve Broke Up With Janet Via An Overpass Day!

Use A Magic Trick To Stop Someone From Crying Day

Use A Magic Trick To Stop Someone From Crying Day!

In case you don't know anybody who is presently crying, go to the emergency room or the cemetery. Don't just reach out and yank a hair from someone's nostrils. That's not the kind of crying you can stop with one of your "illusions." The crying has to come from an emotional place, like if someone just found out his daughter is dead. Or someone who has been trying to find his wife, who disappeared from a truck stop six years ago, and he's followed all of his clues to where he thought he would find her in her new home, but he ended up finding nothing but a Teddy Bear factory. That guy might feel so exhausted and frustrated that he'll drop to his knees before the Teddy Bear factory and just start bawling.

That's where you come in. Ask him if he's crying because his ears are so dirty, then pull a quarter out of his ear. He'll stop crying so that he can shake you and start shouting, "Where's Barbara?!" That's when you should pretend to pull scarves out of your nose.

Happy Use A Magic Trick To Stop Someone From Crying Day!

Now You Don't Have A Date For The Dance Day

Now You Don't Have A Date For The Dance Day!

David is a killer in prison. He put a profile up on a website for men in prison looking for women to marry them either while they are in prison or when they get out. Since none of the boys in school have asked you to the upcoming Harvest Hop, and since, according to his profile, David's release date falls on that very weekend, you decided to establish a correspondence with him. You've done everything right, promising him that you are 21 years old with a gigantic ass (his profile demanded serious inquiries only). He proposed several letters ago, and you said yes. Then you told him that now that you and he are engaged, he has to take you to the Harvest Hop on the weekend that he gets out of jail. He of course asked why you are still in high school and you told him that you flunked and that you're totally 21. David said he doesn't want to go to a high school dance. When you pressured him, he reminded you that he's killed before and will kill again. Then he demanded that you steal money from your Dad and send it to him so that he can pay the Muslims not to kill him for another week.

As you seal the letter with all of your Dad's money in it today, you'll start to cry. You'll try to keep the tears from staining the envelope. You don't want David to have to worry about you while he's locked up and unable to give you comfort. But you can't help but feel distraught that another dance is going to come and go and you're not going to be able to go. Sometimes you wonder whether you rushed into things with David. You're only fifteen, after all. Isn't there more than enough time to lie to an incarcerated killer about your age and your ass size in order to get him to propose to you? Slow down, kiddo.

Happy Now You Don't Have A Date For The Dance Day!

Take The Perfect Picture Of Your Girlfriend On The Day She Dies Day

Take The Perfect Picture Of Your Girlfriend On The Day She Dies Day!

Today, in the park, when the wind sends the leaves flying in a swarm of red and brown, take a picture of your girlfriend smiling with pink cheeks. This picture will come to define the next few years of your life for several reasons.

First, at that moment, in the way she is smiling at you, it will be clear that your girlfriend has never loved you more. And she never will love you more because…

Second, your girlfriend is going to die tonight of a blood disease linked to a chemical contained in paints sold by a particular manufacturer of paint, HGT Paints, between the years 1968 and 1977. It is only recently that some universities have begun studies of this chemical and its effects on children who grew up in homes where paint containing this chemical was used. HGT is presently doing all they can to keep the findings from these studies out of the press. Which brings us to…

Third. In the background of your photo, a director of corporate security at HGT will be seen handing a manila envelope to a Department of Health and Human Services administrator. You won't recognize either of them, and a few weeks from now you will wonder why your Flickr.com page was disabled. Flickr will send you an automated message telling you that your account has been shut down because Flickr reserves the right to disable the accounts of those users who have the power to bring to light webs of corruption that involve the highest levels of government and the most powerful of multi-national conglomerates with a single chance photograph of a pretty dead girlfriend. Soon after, you'll come home from a day of wandering around in mourning to find that your apartment has been ransacked. The whole game won't become clear to you until you go on the run for your life. Once you learn that the people who are after you are the same people who are responsible for the death of the love of your life, you turn the tables and use that photo like the atom bomb that it is.

One day many months from now, that photo you're going to take today of your girlfriend on her last day alive will appear on the cover of every magazine and newspaper in the country. Though her death will have been avenged and the company that made her sick will have been destroyed, you'll be sad that her photo is appearing in all of those newspapers and magazines but no one is writing about how pretty she is and how sad it is that she died.

Happy Take The Perfect Picture Of Your Girlfriend On The Day She Dies Day!

Rescue Some Kids From Something Day

Rescue Some Kids From Something Day!

Today is the day to get those kids the hell outta there, wherever "there" may be. The kids you choose to rescue will more than likely be determined by which kids happen to be enduring the sort of hell you were forced to suffer through when you were but a wee one. Not everyone has been fucked by an uncle or an uncle's friend or even an uncle's group of friends, so not everyone is gonna rush right out and try to save some kids who are getting fucked by their uncles or members of their uncles' social circles.

You can go as lowkey as rushing out to the local Chuck E Cheese to rescue some kids from a particularly lame birthday party. Or if they don't want to leave the birthday party, maybe a kid still needs to be rescued from a really boring conversation about Magic The Gathering with the kid who smells like a laundry hamper. Just swoop in and shout, "Dum de DUUUUM!" or whatever your rescue theme might be, then pretend to be the kid's dad and say that it's time for the kid to wash his face. If the kid who smells like laundry keeps watching you and the kid you rescued, lick your thumb and rub the kid's face clean with your saliva. That's what Dads do. The kid you rescued might start to cry because you're not his Dad, but you can trust that he's grateful for the rescue.

Who's kidding who? The only kids anyone's gonna rescue are the kids who are getting fucked. Get your cape on, time is money.

Happy Rescue Some Kids From Something Day!

Dance For Her Day

Dance For Her Day!

She's given you six beautiful girls and she's made you a wonderful home in which to raise them. Show her how much you appreciate her for the sacrifices, the patience, the love and the unqualified devotion. Dance for her. To "Plush" by STP.

Make sure you wear sunglasses and that you do it in the middle of the restaurant where you met 41 years ago tonight. Be very suggestive in your choreography. If a dance move doesn't make clear that your bod is hers for the groping, cut the move. And don't forget a theme. Like "I'm a bad girl playing Twister." That's a good theme for a retired prized litigator like yourself.

Your heart is weak so of course you might pass during the performance, God willing. If you die in the middle of your dance, it will only bring home just how devoted to the craft you are, even though you've never danced before. Not even at weddings.

Happy Dance For Her Day!

Join The Police Department Day

Join The Police Department Day!

You've spent many years in the back of your limousine gawking through the window while this city went down the toilet. It's time you did something about it.

Say to the desk sergeant, "I wanna sign up."

He'll be skeptical at first. Skeptical of your thousand dollar coat and your manicured hands and the two beautiful women in gowns clinging to your arms.

"Let's see how you are with a gun," he'll say. At that he'll hand you his sidearm and he'll place a 9 volt battery on his shoulder. You miss the battery and shoot a flatfoot in the face.

"It's all right," the desk sergeant will say. "It's my fault. I shouldn't have asked you to fire that gun in here when I barely know you. I just love this city too much, I guess."

One of the beautiful women on your arms ask the desk sergeant what loving this city has to do with anyone.

"Girly," the desk sergeant will say. "I love this city so much, I wish everyone in it would be given a pistol so the playing field could be evened out and the clean could start getting rid of the filthy. With an even playing field, God always wins."

Tell the desk sergeant you don't believe in God, then accidentally shoot a clock.

"God doesn't ask that his soldiers believe in him," he'll say. "He only asks that they obey him."

The desk sergeant will hold out his hand to be shaked, then he'll give you your first assignment. A drug ring that you have to infiltrate and then bring down. "The next time you see the drug ring either buy or sell drugs, arrest them all."

Say, "Got it boss." Then run outside and tell your chauffer, "Take me to the underbelly!"

Happy Join The Police Department Day!

Saddest Sandwich Day!

Saddest Sandwich Day!

Today you are going to enter the Saddest Sandwich contest, wherein participants compete to see whose sandwich makes the most people feel really sad. You are going to come in second with your PB and DS'sMBC with the crusts cut off (peanut butter and dead son's matchbox car with the crusts cut off). The grand prize will go to Holocaust On Wheat.

Happy Saddest Sandwich Day!

Propose To The Deformed Man Who Lives In Your Attic Day

Propose To The Deformed Man Who Lives In Your Attic Day!

When your mother's will was finally read, everything seemed in order. You'll get the house and she'd like it if you lived in it. You get her wedding ring and her other jewelry. The life insurance payments would be split between you and your brother who lives in California (he is far more successful than you and did not need the trouble of dividing up the proceeds from the sale of a house). The only odd note in the will was where your mother demanded that you leave a bowl of chicken stew at the top of the stairs leading to the attic every night.

Thus you discovered the grunting and crippled man-beast that has lived in your attic all of your life. He claims to be two years older than you, but is at least a foot smaller. None of his limbs work the way they should, nor does he have a strong grasp on the English language. Additionally, he smells bad.

Propose. You've loved him ever since that first day you found him there but it's taken all these months for you to admit it. Just take his hand and ask him if he will be your husband. He'll say he can't because he is your brother.

At first you'll assume he's having trouble with the language again. But when he tells you the story of your mother giving birth to twins and deciding that one should put in the attic and punished as a spawn of Satan, as is dictated in the Bible someplace probably, you'll look in his eyes, at his brow and at the shadow of his cheeks, and you'll realize all these months you've been looking into the face of your brother in California (albeit with a slightly less even tan).

Call your brother and ask him about a twin.

"Oh yeah," he'll say. "Mom told me I had a twin but that they drowned him not long after delivery, as is dictated someplace in the Bible I think."

Tell him that his mother lied. Then tell him to come home.

Happy Propose To The Deformed Man Who Lives In Your Attic Day!

This Is Why You Can't Have Nice Things Day

This Is Why You Can't Have Nice Things Day!

Your Dad is an executioner. He assists in the administration of lethal injections at the State Prison. Everyone in your town works at the State Prison, but your Dad is one of four executioners on staff.

Your mother explains it to you every once in a while, and she'll explain it to you again the next time you proclaim that it's not fair to you.

"It's your father's penance," she says. "He has to end men's lives in order to bring an income into this house, and he has problems with spending that income on anything that isn't necessary, like shoes. Trust me honey, I've tried to bend his rules. But anytime I've put up some nice drapes or cooked him a steak, he just asks me politely to take it down or take it away. Or he'll tell me that he's sorry but he'll have to be donating to the Salvation Army a pretty dress that I just bought. It's the way it is."

When you ask your mother why he won't look for another job, she says, "He loves his work. He was never content to just vote for the Governor who was pro-capital punishment. He really wanted to be the guy pushing the button. 'Only way to make sure the sons of bitches fry' he used to tell me on some of our first dates. There aren't many men in this town, honey. No more than a dozen or so."

When you ask her if she'd be willing to leave your father and take you with her so that the two of you can share the wonderful life that you deserve, she'll say, "Sounds good."

You leave tonight. You're going to miss your Dad, but if he's going to put the murder of America's monsters before the happiness of you and your mom, he deserves to go it alone.

Happy This Is Why You Can't Have Nice Things Day!

The Lovesong Dedicated To No One Day

The Lovesong Dedicated To No One Day!

When The Heart Inside Your Ribs turned into one of the biggest hit love songs in the history of Pop music, the press couldn't get enough of singer/songwriter Marty Stabs. Every interview included the question, "Who's the song about?"

After keeping silent for over a year, Marty finally told US News & World Report, "It's about a girl named Gina. She died in a swimming accident seven years ago. She gave me ten of the most wonderful months of my life before her passing. So I wrote her this song."

Immediately after the announcement, his sales jumped near as high as the numbers he charted when the record first dropped. His record company commended him. "Brilliant of you to keep the identity of the song's inspiration a secret for so long. The speculation kept the enchantment alive," said Ghostface Records executive John LeQuee. "You may think I'm only talking about advertising. But I'm talking about enchantment. Those people out there play your records for one reason. You enchant them. In my mind, a singer who can't enchant them should never have been put to wax. This wasn't a ploy. This was an ever heightening enchantment and it was a damn good idea."

But it wasn't to increase his sales that Marty kept the inspiration of the song a secret. It's because there was nothing to keep secret about. There was never any girl named Gina who drowned. There was never any girl, period. At least none that were worth writing a song about.

Marty heard the question a million times and each time he wanted to shout that as his answer. "It's about no one and nothing. I've never loved anyone in a way that could inspire such revelry. Probably never will. My parents were ghosts around each other and I think it's rubbed off on me. I don't know why I write so many love songs when I'm apparently incapable of either giving my love or accepting the love of another. Mine is a joyless and undisturbed life. Every word I sing is horseshit."

Marty instead chose to concoct the girl named Gina who's at the bottom of an ocean somewhere. The press went looking through his past and they made accusations that the story was false but nothing ever stuck. Marty continued to make millions and he'd managed to silence the question forever.

Over the past few years, Marty's mind has grown week and he has begun to believe his lie. He now spends his life inside his mansion, mourning this lost love who he might have been able to rescue had he not been fetching more scotch from the belly of that fictional boat. In his madness, he has been given the ability to believe that he did, in fact, love once.

Today he is going to announce in the city's paper that he is accepting applications to be crew on his undersea expedition to recover the remains of Gina's body. You should apply. The expedition will last until Marty runs out of money, and certainly no one needs you up here on the surface. Get on board. After a few months in close quarters, Marty will see in you shadows of the man he once was. And he'll adopt you as his son, leaving you his millions when he dies. Congratulations because you're going to be rich.

Happy The Lovesong Dedicated To No One Day!

You And Your Stinky Hippy Friends Day

You And Your Stinky Hippy Friends Day!

The farmer has decided that he's going to chase you and your stinky hippy friends out of the woods today. The farmer who owns the woods is sick of you and your stinky hippy friends coming into the woods every afternoon to dance around in a circle. He hates how you all pair off to grab hold of each other's heads and look into each other's eyes while crying. And he really hates your one stinky hippy friend, Moe, because she's black.

The farmer will chase you out of the woods by shooting at you with his shotgun. He won't have intended it, but he'll hit Hogan, your slowest stinky hippy friend. Hogan will fall into the dirt with the terrifying majority of his stomach missing, it having been blown away and scattered amongst the surrounding foliage.

You'll all run back to Hogan, and the farmer will keep running toward you. You and the farmer will discover that Hogan is dead at the same time. After some shouting, the farmer will conclude that he has no choice but to kill the rest of you, which he will proceed to do. One of you will get away, but it won't be you.

The farmer will try to keep this all a secret from his wife and dispose of all of your bodies on his own. But eventually, she'll ask why he's got blood all over himself and what he was doing pulling a Birkenstock sandal off of a severed leg. When he tells her what happened, she'll pitch in with the burials. That's how it's done on the farm. Everyone pitches in.

Happy You And Your Stinky Hippy Friends Day!

IHOP Day

IHOP Day!

Today at IHOP, 4:14 PM, you, a guy and a girl barely 20 saying nothing to each other, an elderly person with Downs syndrome, four unsupervised children under 10, and a woman writing a suicide note are all in this together.

The girl who's not talking to the guy she's with is going to turn to the elderly retard to say, "I like your Lord of the Rings tee shirt."

In an attempt to return the compliment, the elderly retard will reply, "I like Twix bar sundaes. They make them good here. They know how to do it."

The woman writing the suicide note will shout out to anyone, "What's the word for when you feel like you're just drifting through life and you get thrown this way and that way and this way and that way until you can't look into the mirror without wanting to puke."

One of the unsupervised children under 10 will shout, "Poopies!"

The other unsupervised children under 10 will giggle and confirm that the word for that condition is "Poopies."

You know that in certain respects, the unsupervised children are correct. But nonetheless, you should suggest to the woman writing the suicide note, "Rudderless."

The woman writing the suicide note will smile at you. "Thanks," she'll say. Then she'll write rudderless on her sheet of paper. You should make a move on her. No strings, most likely.

The boy barely 20 who hasn't said anything to the girl barely 20 will get up and walk outside, where he'll be shot twice execution style.

"He shouldn't have left the group," the elderly retard will say. The girl barely 20 will go and sit with the elderly retard and they'll talk about soda while you and the woman writing the suicide note will exchange smiles from across the dining room. Stacks of pancakes will come and they will go, almost as if the stacks of pancakes were rudderless, if one were to use the word "rudderless" incorrectly.

Happy IHOP Day!

Those Two Seismologists Feel The Earth Move Every Day Around 4 PM When They Sneak Off To The Broom Closet Together Day

Those Two Seismologists Feel The Earth Move Every Day Around 4 PM When They Sneak Off To The Broom Closet Together Day!

That's what everyone's been saying about you and Charlotte. You both think you've been so careful, but everyone knows how prevalent adultery is in the seismology community. Something about all of you standing around waiting for a needle to twitch and announce the world crumbling apart makes you all think that common morality doesn't apply to you.

Today, there's going to be a 7.4 and it's going to hit while you're in the broom closet. You won't know it at first, since you'll be creating your own little 5.1 on the supplies desk. But it won't be long before even you won't be able to ignore that activity. You'll hustle back into your clothes and run to your red phones to make the proper emergency announcements to the media and the mayor's office. Then you'll both drive on the "solid" roads that your department helped to map out and you'll race to your respective homes, which will be gone.

Now your only hope is that whomever of your loved ones didn't make it home are still alive somewhere, and you have to find them before they get harmed in the ensuing chaos. You join forces in your search, and as you make it through your town, which appears to have almost been swallowed whole, you start to feel like the last man and woman on Earth. The search for your loved ones grows frantic. Neither of you is willing to say it out loud, but you both wonder whether you might have saved some lives had you been watching the needle when the activity began to occur, instead of in the broom closet.

This risk was always a part of the excitement for the two of you, but now that it's happened, you feel nothing short of evil. You try to blame each other. You take to screaming. When you grab Charlotte and shake her by her shoulders, telling her this is all her fault, she grabs a piece of wood and lands it on the side of your head then runs. From then on, you'll travel separately in your respective searches for your families. You both acquire weapons along the way, and the next time you see each other one of you will live and the other will die.

Happy Those Two Seismologists Feel The Earth Move Every Day Around 4 PM When They Sneak Off To The Broom Closet Together Day!

Raise A Wild Animal In Your One-Bedroom Apartment Day

Raise A Wild Animal In Your One-Bedroom Apartment Day!

You're not happy. You know who was happy? That's right, the guy who kept a tiger in his apartment as a pet. You know why he was happy? There was a wild animal in his house.

They took the tiger away and he had to pay a fine or something, but if you ask him now he'd tell you he'd pay a million fines if they'd just give him his tiger back. Then he'd lean in real close and tell you that he has a line on a four-month old Puma. His smile will be radiant with excitement.

You've tried everything from anti-depressants to accepting the unconditional love of your tween-aged daughter, but nothing seems capable of making that black cloud go away. Are you content to live out the rest of your days exerting the extent of your will just to get out of bed and put on your slippers every morning? Or are you ready to try some less traditional remedies for unhappiness?

Raising a wild animal as a housepet in a confined space is guaranteed to yield happiness to the pet owner because wild animals look funny sitting on couches or eating out of bowls that say "Mr. Piddles" on the side. Also, anyone who tries to break into the pet owner's home and steal his stuff is guaranteed to be disemboweled. Also, no mice!

All you need is a one-bedroom apartment and $85,000 and you can have an almost domesticated wild animal napping on the edge of your bed by Thanksgiving. If you don't have $85,000, find it.

Happy Raise A Wild Animal In Your One-Bedroom Apartment Day!

Water For The Marathon Runner Day

Water For The Marathon Runner Day!

You've been in town for three weeks now and you haven't met a soul. Your parents and friends back home are sick of you calling late at night just because you need to hear a friendly voice. It's time for you to put yourself out there and draw some people in. What better way to do that than to go down to the finish line of a marathon and dole out some water?

You've been to the finish line of a marathon before. As they come in, the runners are all clamoring for water because they're thirsty and their legs are covered in shit and blood.

That’s where you come in. You'll sidle up with your aluminum bucket and drinking straw and you'll say, "Drink up." The runner will gulp down half the bucket, and with the other half he'll scrub his feces from the part of his legs that he chafed raw so that he can properly dress his wounds. When he looks at you to thank you for essentially saving his life, say, "I'd be up for a bite to eat if you are. I'm new in town."

The runner will smile and wink at you, which is the symbol for "You want to have sex with me don't you?" If you smile and wink back, that's the symbol for "Yes, I want to have sex with you. Really hard." Don't smile and wink back unless you want to have sex with the runner.

If he sees that you haven't smiled and winked back at him, the runner will say, "Oh, so just a friendly bite?"

Say, "Yes. I saved your life pretty much just now."

The runner will agree that you did and he'll say, "It'll be a day or so before I can hold down solid food. But I'd be willing to sit on the grass over there and talk. If you don't mind me passing out from time to time."

Unless you mind him passing out from time to time, take him up on his offer. You just might have yourself a new friend if the runner doesn't turn out to be a cock.

Happy Water For The Marathon Runner Day!

Give Her Back Her Secret Admirer Letter Day

Give Her Back Her Secret Admirer Letter Day!

She'll gasp when she sees you pull it from your jacket pocket. Hold it out to her and say, "I knew this was you the minute I started reading it."

She'll blush and tell you that she was just writing what she felt for you.

Say, "I'm good at matching up handwriting to people. I know people pretty well. And I am a pretty visual thinker."

She'll ask you what you thought of the letter.

Say, "When I realized it was a secret admirer letter, I was like, I bet I can tell who wrote this within the first paragraph. And I was right! Before I even got two sentences in I thought, Mary totally wrote this."

She'll tell you that everything in there was true. That she just opened up her heart and let it flow out to you.

"That's probably why I had such an easy time guessing," say. "Man, I should be a detective or something."

She'll ask how you feel about all of this.

"Proud," tell her. "Proud of my abilities. It says something that I can grasp people's personalities so well that I can see their personalities expressed in their script."

She'll be about ready to burst now. "Do you want to be my boyfriend?" she'll blurt out.

Say, "Sure, you're pretty. Now let me show you how that lilt you have to your voice makes itself known in the loops of your H's."

Then open up the letter and show her the loops of her H's.

Happy Give Her Back Her Secret Admirer Letter Day!

Shopaholic Day

Shopaholic Day!

Because you're a shopaholic, tonight you're going to rifle through your son's desk drawers looking for coupons.

Your son will wake up bleary-eyed, spot you scrabbling about amongst the contents of his desk strewn across the carpet, and he'll say, "Daddy, why can't you just love us?"

Say, "I will. Right after I hit triple coupon day at the Sav-On."

Your son will roll his eyes comically and say, "Promises, promises!"

That's when you should slap your son in the mouth and accuse him of hiding his coupons so that he can keep them all for himself. Then apologize, fall on the floor, and start crying.

"I'm weak, boy," say.

Your son will start shouting "Cry-Baby" like Richard Dreyfuss' son did in Close Encounters. Except, since your son is seventeen, he'll also kick your ass. He'll beat you as hard as you used to dream of beating on your own father. He'll even pull a boot onto one foot just so that he can kick you in the teeth with it.

Happy Shopaholic Day!

Eat The End Of Your Family Line Day

Eat The End Of Your Family Line Day!

Your only son is dead and you and your wife are beyond childbearing years. You could adopt, sure, but an adopted child would not carry on your bloodline. It has been an American tradition since 1989 that should parents outlive the son who would be the last hope of carrying on their family name and bloodline, those parents must eat the body of their child. You may prepare his body any way you wish.

"Even on one of those sizzling plates that makes everyone else in the restaurant envy you with all the heart they have left inside of them when they hear it being carried to your table?" you'll ask.

The answer is yes.

"Will this make us miss our son any less?" you'll ask. "The pain is unbearable."

Rather than provide an answer to that, Girls Are Pretty turn and walk in the opposite direction, very slowly.

Happy Eat The End Of Your Family Line Day!

You Won A Motorcycle Day

You Won A Motorcycle Day!

You won’t need to waste time hanging out with your wife and your brother anymore (he’s unemployed and had to give up his place). You won a motorcycle!

After dinner (dinner sucks!) hit the open highway. Wear white, because you want to be seen at night. And make sure to blow your whistle when you go through intersections. Repeat nightly.

A month from now, your wife is going to come out to the driveway while you’re working on your motorcycle and she’s going to speak to you for the first time in a month.

“What’s with all this motorcycle shit?” she’ll ask. Tell her that she can’t cage you in anymore. Nobody can.

“What if I did this?” She’ll spit on the motorcycle seat.

Wipe her spit from the leather and then say, “We’re through.”

“Where you gonna get the money to pay my alimony?” she’ll shout at your back. You’ll be walking to the garage to wax your helmet. She’s not gonna break your routine. “And what about your brother? I’m tellin’ you, if you leave me alone with him I’ll kill him tonight. You know I wanna!”

Your brother will hear that and he’ll take off out the back door and over the fence, so no worries.

Turn to her and say, “I’ll have your money. The bike will show me the way.”

She’ll go marching back into the house to break your things. When you’re finished waxing your helmet, go for a ride. Tonight, die by jumping your bike through the belly of a gasoline truck.

Happy You Won A Motorcycle Day!