It’s that time of year again—the anniversary of this time last year. What have you been doing with yourself in all that time? I sure do have some stories to tell. But not for today.

Those Olsen Twins are national treasures. And like other treasures, I say we bury them in a secret, unmarked location and make a handwritten map to remember where it is. Come back in a hundred years, see if they’re still there.

If I have two hundred dollars, and you give me thirty-five more dollars, how much money do I now have? And why did you give it to me? Just being generous, or trying to curry favor? Because I’m not for sale, you soulless jester.

I finally saw that Titanic movie from a few years back. Let me get this straight—did the boat sink or what? I wish they could have spent a little more time explaining that, I got lost between all the subplots.

These are the times that try men’s souls. And if you haven’t tried soul before, I would suggest trying a man’s Marvin Gaye collection first. Nobody sounds quite like Marvin Gaye.

Have you ever eaten a cauliflower? Come to think of it, I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone actually eat one. Where do they all go?

When I was younger, I wanted to be a train conductor. I’m not sure what one does, but I thought it a wide-open field with room for advancement and a place where I could really bullshit my way through the job. Good security, too, an industry with a proven record for bouncing back from recessions. But I had to give up those boyish dreams and take a job climbing flagpoles, of course. Some flags don’t come down without my help. I make a difference.

Why is it, in hardcore pornographic movies, you always see erect penises, and in softcore pornographic movies, you sometimes see flaccid penises? Now that’s ironic.

If I had a dog, I would name him Amberson—no! Clayton. Or Rags. That’s a good, solid dog name. I need more time to hash this one out. Sorry for bringing you an incomplete thought.

If you died tomorrow, how many lives do you think you would have affected? How many of those were positive effects, and how many negative? Could I have your bicycle? Seriously, you’re not going to need it where you’re going. Heaven has a hell of a public transportation network.

Pardon me—just making room for a fresh beer.

There’s another thing I’ve always wondered about, but it escapes me at the moment. I’ll leave this space right here, so I can come back to it.

As a little boy, my father always thought I would grow up to be president some day. But I showed him! Try to tell me what to do.

I have never danced with the devil in the pale moonlight, but I did once have sex with a young woman dressed as a witch in a real dark room, at a Halloween party. That has to count for something.

Why do they call it root beer, when normal beer is made from—shit. That’s a total misfire. Forgive my clumsiness. This just isn’t working out. How about I get my act together so I don’t embarrass the both of us in this fashion, and come back next edition? Sounds good to me as well. Good day.