So apparently my blog entry from yesterday made many of you uncomfortable with its unwelcomed intimacy. For that, I am truly sorry.

I’m sorry I tried to express my warm regards to you in the only way I know how. My behavior comes from my upbringing and other various factors beyond my control. It simply isn’t my fault that my attempts to kiss you on the mouth with my full, moist lips somehow made you uncomfortable. I have come now to understand that all that I know is wrong, and the ways that I choose to express my personality are somehow frowned upon.

I suppose things would have been worse had I continued on to straddle you in affectionate friendship and presented you with a charcoal drawing I did of me without my shirt on. I can only assume that you would have grown “uncomfortable” with my actions and asked me to stop running my hand along your belly. Well, if this is the response I get for being friendly, then I may just have to stop being nice and go back to being quiet and aloof in public situations!

I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. I really do want you to like me and return my physical treats. Kissing the neck of my friends is my love language. It’s just not something I can just change overnight (though maybe if you stayed with me overnight then I could get it out of my system for a while).

Anyway, please accept this apology.

Can I hug you again?

Come and sit with me. I would like to speak with you.

I want you to know that I find you an exceptionally good person. You are kind to others, and your grooming leaves no doubt as to the quality of your caliber. Your smile makes birds sing songs of finest beauty and your forearms are firm and muscled, though not to the point of unsightliness. Your eyes meet my gaze evenly and your mouth parts slightly as you await my next words. You are, in short, as fine an individual as I have come across.

Are my kind words making you uncomfortable? Perhaps you would like it if I didn’t lean in so closely to you when I spoke? Is my breath hot on your face? Do you dislike being able to see individual pores on my skin? Am I breaching your personal space by placing my nose two inches from yours? Are you uncomfortable with the fact that my hand is currently placed on your left thigh?

Do not misunderstand me. I do not intend this as a sexual advance in any way. I simply find you a remarkable person and desire closeness with you. As I lean in to softly kiss your lips, I want you to understand that this will merely be a lingering kiss of friendship and respect. I believe you will find it both supple and refreshing.

Let’s begin.

Sing with me!

“It’s the first day of school!
Teacher’s gonna drool
When he finally sees
That I’m nobody’s fool!”

“It’s the first day of school!
Iron Maiden rules!
Except their last six albums
Which have been noticably subpar!”

“It’s the first day of school!
Johnny Dodge looks cool
With his blow-dried hair
And pastel sweater too!”

“It’s the first day of school!
I feel a little cruel
I’m gonna start a knife-fight
And be immediately expelled!”

What’s the deal? Nobody’s singing! Doesn’t anybody know this song? What the hell?!

I have something very important to share with all of you.

Read those words and understand the truth. Truly, there is no greater way to comprehend the majesty of nature than to hold this knife with deer art on it. Compared with holding this priceless item from the Bradford Exchange, going to the Grand Canyon is about as majestic as crapping out this morning’s Honey Nut Cheerios.

(Just a side note, however - is it actually possible to grasp this buck-blade? Don’t those three-dimensional antlers preclude someone from actually wielding this item, whether it be as a collectable or as a weapon to stealthily execute intruders or city inspectors?)

Read this scenario. How effortlessly it describes the majesty of an early morning buck-sighting! The only thing that could better encapsulate nature’s glory would be a $38 replica knife with a big ol’ deer painted on it. What luck that just such a collectable is available to you through this offer! This buck-encrusted son of a bitch is the greatest proof of the Almighty since Francis Scott Key penned “The Star Spangled Banner” back in 1812.

May God bless this great nation and all the deer that live therein, that we might one day shoot them for sport in patriotic fashion!

A few tidbits from an old asthma pamphlet I was given.

-I love the depiction of the evil moon. In my opinion, we don’t see this sort of thing nearly enough. Why is the moon so hateful? I don’t know, there’s no good reason, really. But one thing is certain, the moon hates you and wants to cut you with his lunar blade.

-Of all the emotions we experience, by far my favorite is coughing.

-What exactly is happening with the “Emotions” guy? Is he laughing too hard? Is he wearing footie pajamas with a necktie? Is he having some sort of tantrum? Why does he appear to have the snout of a lion? Is this the artist’s understanding of what a typical asthma sufferer looks like? I need explainations.

-My favorite tidbit from this pamphlet was the verbiage, “mucus accumulation”. Is that the same as mucus hoarding? Or mucus selfishness in general? Obviously, if more people just used and shared their own mucus appropriately, we wouldn’t have to worry about being hunted for sport by the Evil Moon.

Here is a summary of my most recent findings:

If a pint-sized plastic bottle of chocolate milk is emptied, re-covered, and then placed in a hot car for 18 hours, many wonderful things will result from it. Most interestingly, if the cover is later removed and a person takes a deep sniff out of the bottle, that person will immediately become nauseous and wish to vomit repeatedly. Preliminary results indicate that this is awesome.

Further studies will investigate whether this same technique could induce similarly vomiting in stray dogs found in the area. These studies are awaiting million-dollar grants from the United States government.