#60 – “What’s that Smell?”

I think all people can be divided into two categories: sniffers and non-sniffers. Take me, for instance. I’m a certified non-sniffer. Without a doubt, scent remains my least favorite sense. In fact, every time I’ve played the “what if” game, and the question was “Which sense would you give up, if you had to lose one?,” I’ve always chosen smell. That means I don’t go looking for odors. If something doesn’t smell like death warmed over, I’m generally able to ignore it.

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#62 – “When Coddling Goes Astray”

I try not to overly coddle my dog. But it’s hard to avoid, since I’m constantly combating the bad influence set by my wife. She spends so much time carrying our little Shitty around that onlookers undoubtedly mistake him for a quadriplegic. In reality, however, he owns four perfectly functioning appendages. But thanks to my doting spouse (doting only on the dog, I assure you), he doesn’t seem unduly interested in using them. Who can blame him though? Why waste horsepower motoring himself from place to place, when a personal slave can bear him about instead, like some ancient Egyptian Pharaoh?

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#67 – Wedding Announcements

I promised I’d report on my sister’s wedding, and now’s as good a time as any. Overall, I can’t complain. The ceremony itself – performed by the groom’s Rabbi – was tasteful, and blessedly short. Noticeably, the couples’ vows (carefully negotiated by the divorce lawyer groom and the private detective bride, or so I heard) were bereft of certain traditional elements. Neither Lisa nor Ed vowed to honor and obey the other, or to remain joined for better or worse. Ed, who’d pushed for the “better or worse” omission, may’ve thought he’d scored a major win; but both my brother and I agreed that the lack of the “honor and obey” from Lisa would end up biting the groom in the ass.

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#69 – Who Needs Designer Luggage? … Us

It’s high time my wife and I bought some new luggage. Apparently, our existing suitcase looks a tad nondescript. Though I can’t be sure the bag’s commonplace appearance caused the misrouting to Cleveland on Saturday, I have no doubt its pedestrian form led to this morning’s error. The piece of luggage I pulled from the Atlanta airport’s carousel – after our flight home – closely resembled our own, so much so that I didn’t discover my mistake until we unpacked. But as soon as Sophia opened the suitcase, our blunder became obvious. We both knew neither of us had loaded a Bible, a Crucifix, or two sets of priestly vestments.

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#80 – The Gangrene Thumb

My wife’s leaving for a three-day business conference out west. Thankfully, she’s asked her father to tend her plants while she’s away. A sensible move, and not only because Vito Gambino owns the greenest thumb in America (except for his apparent hatred of grass, that is). Sophia doesn’t want a repeat performance of the time I served as floral caretaker.

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