A nihilist, a dodecahedron, and a cruciverbalist walk into a bar in heaven called "Know Thyself." The nihilist says to the bartender, "I believe I'll have a drink," and immediately vanishes into thin air. Seeing this, the dodecahedron starts to nervously shake and remarks, "Um, I would, but I'm a little out of shape," and likewise disappears with a loud pop. The cruciverbalist gives a nod to the bartender and says, "Two down."

Strokes suck

Can't talk right

Can't walk

Can't feed myself

Can't live on my own

Can't sit up

Can't wipe myself

They say, try to think of the positives.

What positives?

Never have to hold a conversation with someone if I don't want to.

No one asks me to run to the store for them.

I'm always on a romantic date with my partner feeding me.

I'll never be lonely since someone is always here.

Never have to worry about getting dizzy if I sit up too fast.

Never have to experience my fingers ripping through the toilet paper when I wipe my ass.

Ok, maybe this ain't so bad after all.

Age had its privileges, and pretending to be deaf was one of them. Unfortunately for Amelia, she was only 20. The only thing she had resembling wrinkles were the dark bags under her eyes. And the man on the bus in front of her was still glaring.

“Eh?” she tried again.

“I know you can hear me! I saw you talk to the bus driver!” The man finished off his sentence with a triumphant flourish of his red nose, up and down and up again. Amelia decided one thing then and there: she would never ride the campus bus again. Even if she was late for class. She’d just get a bike, go green and healthy. It was not worth having to deal with these drunk, patronizing, moronic fraternity assholes who seemingly grew and spawned with the mold under the seat. There was always one of them on the bus! Always! She decided to try another tactic.

"No habla inglés.”

She didn’t think it would work given the fact that she practically glowed in the dark. Hell, she was so pale that moths bounced off of her all summer, but he was drunk enough that it seemed worth a shot. The frat idiot stared at her with increasing perplexity before his face started twisting up in disgust.

Oh fuck, she thought, fuck fuck fuck. She looked around the bus, but everybody seemed to be religiously looking at phones or textbooks, or just plain asleep. She was on her own. The frats thick lips drew further back, and Amelia prepared to pull the pepper spray out of her purse. She’d grabbed it about 10 seconds after boy stumbled over to her, just to be safe, and it looked like she might have to use it after all.

“Achoooooo!” The puffy faced nitwit sneezed a mighty sneeze, spraying globs of spit and pale snot all down the front of her overalls. The wispy excuse for a mustache that hung like a rotting blond possum from the boys upper lip flapped like a shutter in a tornado, and Amelia would later swear to God and Jesus and her best friend and her worst friend and her mom and her grandmother that at least a dozen vomit-yellow hairs drifted to the floor, dislodged by the destructive force of the sneeze.

Amelia jumped back, arms held out like a scarecrow, shaking like a dog. “What the fuck man?! What the fuck is wrong with you! You- you- you pissant little motherfucker! You lumpy little shit, you- She stopped to take a few fast breaths, then continued. “You sorry excuse for a functioning human, toxic and smelly and, you know what? If I had a time machine, I'd go back and give your parents a condom! No no, what am I thinking, you obviously came from a broken condom. I’d go into debt, just to pay for your father to have a vasectomy and for your mother to have her tubes tied! No, I’d make your father move to Spain and your mother to Alaska! I’d never let them meet!”

Frat boy looked up at her, confusion writ on his sweaty face. “Who are you again?”

Amelia pepper sprayed him.

A room. A dimly lit room. Chairs all in a circle. TV in the middle. Drivers training. The air vent speeds up as the people are filling the room with warmth. The instructor plays the video, half of us almost asleep. He pauses the video and booms his voice to shock our brains back to earth. "Who has the right away in this situation?" he gestures to the TV behind him. All eyes in a panic. Looking at each other. Looking at the TV hoping it will give the answer away. I look at the instructor, then the TV, then I scan the classroom, all is still, all is quiet. I feel it building, my nerves rising towards my lungs, SOMEONE SAY SOMETHING PLEASE GET ME OUT OF MY MISORY. I resort to bitting my tongue, but I feel it building getting ready to push past the pain and the teeth in the way. 1. 2. 3. I let out the loudest laugh humanly possible. The WHOLE room turns to me and starts laughing too. Ah silence my biggest foe, I will beat you next time.

You want humour.

Not happening today.

I'm an independent person.

I've got stuff to do ya know.

Wait just a sec.

5 smackers.

I'm in.

So first step, what is humour? Hey siri, give me a definition of humour. The quality of being amusing or comic? Ehh.

Hey siri, So how can I sum up my humour? 3 seconds later . . . okay I found this on the web for "how can I sum up my humour" check it out. Do you need anything else? NO SIRI NOTHING ELSE!

Ten tips to improve my humour. Siri, you mindless thing. BTW Alexa's way better than you. Git.

Thanks for making me lose 5 whole smackers.

The next day

ALEXA JUST GO AWAY! Siri's so much better. Thank god Adam Cheyer became an engineer.

For more and more New Mexicans, the purpose of a home seems to be to keep certain people out. Mi casa es su casa or Bienvenidos signs on peoples' doors are being replaced with Protected by the 2nd amendment or If you can read this, you are in range.

We have security cameras and alarm systems installed and we can check our front door surveillance from our cell phones. Anyone still making a living as a door-to-door solicitor has to be the bravest person alive.

The next time someone comes to your door, consider how brave that person must be. Also, consider the fact that anyone actually ringing your doorbell is obviously not trying to break into your house. So be respectful and polite and if it is a Girl Scout, buy some cookies. It is absolutely un-American to not buy Girl Scout cookies. Then lie on the couch and eat half a box of thin mints. Once you break open the plastic, they go stale really fast so don't take any chances. Eat them all, feeling safe and secure in a home that is protected by a fool proof security system.

Then sit and stare at the ceiling for a while and consider the plight of the Jehovah's Witness.

They always come in pairs and dressed professionally, like lawyers. All things considered, though, who would you rather have come to your door, two Jehovah's Witnesses, or two lawyers? Like lawyers, they usually lead off with a question, like "Will there ever be peace in the world?

One has to admit. They ask good questions. And they are brave. I agree with almost nothing they say, but we can at least agree on the weather and how we need rain and Selena's best song was "Dreaming of You."

And once there was one named Candy, who had the most beautiful brown eyes. She smiled seductively (I think) and asked:

Can anyone really know who wrote the Bible? My answer: no

Why does God allow the strong to oppress the weak? My answer: good question

What is the name of the scarlet colored beast of Revelation?" My answer: Gossamer?

Then Candy smiled again and read some Bible verses off of an iPad. She informed me that the correct answers were yes, original sin and the United Nations. I said I totally agreed and would she like to go out for dinner some time so we could talk more in depth about the scarlet colored beast but her partner, a tall grey haired man, said they had to be going now, grabbed Candy's arm and guided her down the sidewalk.

A classic scene of 1960's Americana is a Kirby Vacuum salesman, wearing a suit and tie and pushing one of those monstrous machines while a housewife dressed in high heels, a dress and an apron sits on the edge of the couch watching with interest. Among 1960's status symbols, owning a Kirby Vacuum ranked up there with a color TV, a station wagon and the thing I wanted more than anything, all 26 volumes of Encyclopedia Britannica.

As a child, I remember being totally captivated by the encyclopedia salesman who piled 26 volumes containing all the knowledge of the world on our living room floor. And all it would cost to have all the world's knowledge would be just the change Dad brought home in his pockets every day. I couldn't believe my mother sent them away. Never mind the fact that we lived directly across the street from the public library.

Today we literally do have all the knowledge of the world at our fingertips. So, just to prove how valuable the World Wide Web is, I decided to document everything I learned on the internet in an eight hour period. Here it is:

I scored 100% on the Nearly Impossible Knowledge Test, which means my IQ is around 160. But I still paid $20 in shipping and handling to get a "free gift" fitness watch. And I can't even figure out how to turn on.

My male celebrity soulmate is Jeremy Irons and my female soulmate is Alicia Silverstone.

If I were an Inside Out character, I would be Sadness.

If you dream about being afraid of heights, it could be because you are afraid of heights.

You can use Coca Cola to clean the toilet.

No other adult males have any friends either.

The pyramids were not actually built by aliens (darn it).

In 14 hours and 50 minutes, you can go from Virgin in Utah to Hooker in Oklahoma and visit Love's Travel Stop.

The worst excuse ever given for being late for work (until now, that is) was "I got stuck in the blood pressure machine at the grocery store and couldn't get out."

Until 1997, New Mexico was the only state to have a state cookie. That was the year Massachusetts selected the chocolate chip cookie.

Shortbread, biscotti and macaroon are all acceptable words on Scrabble but biscocho (or bizcocho) is not. Another slap in the face to New Mexico.

There are at least 14 kinds of tacos:

1. al pastor

2. birria

3. barbacoa

4. camarones

5. pescado

6. lengua

7. tripas

8. suadero

9. sudado

10. deshebrada

11. frijoles/ vegetable

12. carne adovada

13. chicharrones

14. Taco Bell.

Actually, Taco Bell doesn't really sell tacos. Whatever it is that they sell, though, if you like, eat it. I am not going to judge.

I'm late for work, but oh well, if I get fired there's this job I found on the internet where I can work from home explaining the benefits of products to customers. No sales required!

My response is the answer my fellow (average) Americans would have to the following question:

What is the capital of Kyrgyzstan, and where is it on the map?

Silence

It seems I've figured out *exactly* how to embody my facetious sarcasm in writing.

Not- if that was true this would be longer,

But sadly

it is Not

Three cousins discussing a book from book club where insightful points are being made prompting great discussion between two of the cousins.

The third cousin interjects, "wait…I don't get anything you two are talking about? But that Luke guy was fire!”

Me to the third cousin: “you’re so pretty.”

Cousin, oblivious, “Thank you” and smiles.

No harm done.