Scott Cramer wrote this.

I picked up a large bag of cheese popcorn from a gas station convenience store to have something to snack on while driving down the highway. I opened the bag before starting the car expecting the wonderful smell of processed cheesey goodness – but was instead greeted by a stale styrofoam odor. For two bucks I didn’t want to stand in line again, so I threw the bag in the car with thoughts of calling the company or visiting their website. However, a couple miles down the highway it started stinking up my whole car so I decided to roll down the window and just dump out the popcorn. I know, I know… littering. But I figured it was biodegradable and birds could eat it. Plus, it did really smell bad! I got the bag about half-way out the window when the wind caught it. As I was holding on to keep the bag and my hand (also biodegradable, I suppose) from flying down the highway I felt something hitting my face and arms. A good portion of the stinky cheese popcorn had flown back *into* the car in a flurry of powdery orange snow. Two days later and I’m still picking out stale popcorn from the seats. At least anything I miss is biodegradable, I remind myself.

My brother brought over his Nintendo Wii and a boxing game to my birthday party. Concept in a nutshell – for anyone living under a rock since this thing’s debut – is that you hold a controller in each hand, jump around and punch the air like a madman, and your video game avatar beats the heck out of your opponent (or vice versa).

Wii Boxing Game

Only two matches and the next day my right arm was falling off and my shoulder blade felt like I’d been working on a chain gang. No, it has nothing to do with turning 40.

Me and my buddy Ken – Geek Boxing

It’s time for me to start writing children’s books.

Description: A fat old cow wanted to jump over the moon so her friend the mule gathered their animal friends together to build a rocket to get her to the moon. In the end, it didn’t work but she was happy as she got to stay on Earth with her friends.

Author: Louise Lawrence Devine, Illustrator: Irma Wilde, Publisher: Rand McNally (1965)

Really. No kidding.

Not a manly shopping cart.

I tried to think of it as a “sports car” model.

This would *SO* happen to me.

I’d be minding my own business, jumping out of a field and BLAMMO – hit by a bike.

You must be at least 8′ tall to use these cotton balls.

No kidding. This was the only place they were at!