Let us not tarry, gentle readers, ‘cause I knew a guy who tarried once in Vietnam and it got him killed.

In my younger days, for a brief time, I followed the Dead—the rock band, not a group of actual living corpses. Though they did come close in their latter days. Eventually, I gave up that childishness. Now I follow Cheap Trick. Which is hard, because they don’t tour as frequently anymore and that drummer is a crafty driver. But I haven’t been dissuaded yet.

Have you seen the latest Star Wars movie? I highly doubt it, since I made it myself in my garage only a few days ago. Finally we all get all those questions about Yoda’s sex life answered.

What’s the deal with napkins? Is anybody actually using these things?

I tried reading a book the other day and, frankly, I wasn’t all that impressed. I’m not saying everyone is wrong with all this “books, books, books” praise, but I don’t see it myself.

If you are going to shoot the Creature from the Black Lagoon, do you need a hunting license or a fishing license? This assumes, of course, you’re doing it by yourself and not part of some angry mob. However, this is the kind of predicament that keeps me up at night. It probably worries the Creature, too.

I am finally finished selling my antique condom collection. I thought I’d never be rid of those things. A bad area to invest your money, let’s just say that.

I would never, under any circumstances, hit a woman. Go ahead—tempt me. Give me a free punch, promise me her back will be turned. Have her burn down my house and I still won’t do it. I want to point out, of course, using a baseball bat is not counted as hitting by most judges. It’s more of a bludgeoning.

I like croutons, but hate salad. What is the answer, my friends?

Johnny Cash was always known as the Man in Black, and probably always will be. It doesn’t matter how black you dress, it’s just a title that’s impossible to wrestle away from him. I tried wearing purple for a year, but I suppose Prince had that all sewn up. I don’t know who got fellated to preserve these titles, but I want my own and I’ll wear anything, suck anything to get it. The Man in Chartreuse? The Man in Off-White? Let me know, people.

The guitar has reigned for years as the most popular instrument in the world. I say it’s high time that tyranny came to an end.

For those who don’t know my writing process, I carry a little brown book with me, all the time, in my coat pocket. When the muse strikes, the real muse, not just some bitch hitting me for no reason, I take out my book and scribble a thought down. Of course, getting a pen in here is a lot more difficult than hiding a little brown book. But I’m resourceful.

A reminder, folks: Never volunteer to suck a cock to get something. I make exceptions at times, of course, but it’s always a good rule. And for God’s sake, if you do, at least get what you were promised before you do it. Fool me once, as they say…

I am no longer welcome back at Cracker Barrel. I can do nothing more than continue to profess my innocence.