Why do we find it so funny when our pets menace or attack our siblings?


As soon as things get stressful for the lady in the next cubicle, I start to hear the pill bottles rattle.


When you are in a loud, crowded bar, and all you can think of to do (in your condition or your situation) is go up to the juke box and flip through songs for well over an hour, and you finally make some selections after inventorying every single tune in there, and you have your dollar bills in your hand - AND YOU KNOW - you know - that as soon as you start jamming dollars into this thing and pushing buttons - you will assume a special role in that bar - and your selections will drown out many of the conversations going on in there - the attention of everybody in that bar will be on you. Choose well, Bud. Your back is to them - Yes - but they are staring at your ass.

I was a hero one night simply for playing the song "Hey Jude."
My dad worked for GE for twenty-some years from the late 1960's into the eighties. He did all kinds of design work. He designed the casings and containers and packaging and cabinets that the electronics or whatever came in. He designed casings for warheads (no shit). He once worked on a project where they were trying to build a nuclear blast resistant booth made out of diamonds. Do you remember the old televisions with the huge, beautiful, ornate cabinets? My dad. My dad would design these things, and one time he brought one home (a TV cabinet - not a warhead, not a booth constructed of diamonds - a TV cabinet, he brought home), and I was amazed at the site of it, but I went up to it, and I opened it, and it was empty. I said, "Where's the TV, Daddy?"

I climbed inside the cabinet, and shut the doors, and just sat there until somebody made me get out.

A week or so later, he brought home a TV - a real beauty. It didn't fit inside the cabinet, it was a stand-alone kind of unit. So it sat in our living room next to the really ornate cabinet for years. The TV had that old kind of remote control - a clicker - remember? It worked by making a sound at a certain pitch or frequency or whatever - and that sound would signal the TV and change the channels and turn it on and off and shit. Well - my brother always wore a wallet with a chain on it. One time my brother walked into the room wearing that chained wallet of his with the chain just jingling and jingling, and one of those jingle sounds off of his chain matched - exactly - that certain pitch or frequency or whatever, and it turned the TV on. My brother was like - "What the . .. ?"