#296 – His Cheatin’ Heart

My wife and I generally feel disdain for those who cheat on their significant others. But when the victim is someone we know and like, we tend to view the philanderer as our personal enemy and to act accordingly. We spotted one such “enemy” last night. My reaction, though well intended, achieved the same results as a hand grenade removing a single mosquito: the mosquito died, but he wasn’t the only one.

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#297 – The Shit List

I’ve decided to get serious about my bucket list. After weeks promising my wife I’d create one, and repeatedly overstating the percentage I’ve actually completed, I see no choice but to focus on the things I most want to accomplish before I cast off my mortal coil. I have a long way to go though, since I’ve only managed to jot down one item thus far: “Finish the damn bucket list!”

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#300 – The Hair Trigger

There’s a principle in sports known as “muscle memory.” Athletes practice certain movements until performance occurs without conscious thought. In my experience, the same principle applies to speech as well. I craft responding dialogue for specific professional and personal situations and rehearse the words until they become second nature. I’m then able to seamlessly recite the language upon hearing the applicable trigger. Under the right circumstances, my listeners believe I’m a polished, spontaneous orator. Under the wrong circumstances …? You’ll have to ask those on the receiving end, I suppose, starting with the lady I conversed with this morning.

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#307 – Murder He Wrote

A chance encounter with a real estate agent this morning helped clear up a mystery that’s been dogging me for months. Up till now, I’ve blamed a deplorable lack of ethics among real estate agents for my in-laws’ purchase of a house down the street from ours. After running into Bill Franks, however, I realize I have only myself to blame for the Gambinos’ proximity.

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#315 – Ask Precisely, and Ye Shall Receive

I usually don’t lie to my wife. At the same time, I don’t correct her when she fails to ask the proper question. Sophia thinks I draw too fine a line in that distinction, but the lawyer in me says otherwise. In all probability we’ll debate this subject forever, and last night’s argument will go down as merely the latest, but not last, salvo in our war of words.

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