-You know, there's a lot of atheism out there, and I've noticed a tendency among athiests to talk about "god," specifically meaning the Christian God. Now, I'm an athiest myself, but I see no point in using the lower case "g". To me, that's just a little to thumbing-your-nose-at-organized-religion-just-to-feel-all-superior-and-cool. I mean, come on, the guy's accepted proper name is God, whether you think he's real or not. No other mythical beings are referred to as such, like "santa clause." Other fictional characters don't get this treatment. Literary papers aren't full of "holden caufields" and "biblo bagginses." I guess I just don't feel the need to be so unholier-than-thou.

-I see cats sleeping in open windows and dogs hanging out of car windows rolled all the way down, and I realize I've never had a pet that exhibited such self control. Even on nice days we have to keep our window cracked just a little so our cat won't just go leaping at a bird two stories below. And the dog I had growing up would always try to scramble out of the car at stop lights, or even while the car was going 60 mph down the freeway. Yet another reason I should never have children.

-I'm a very shallow person, with few strong opinions or beliefs. This makes it very hard to be a writer.

-We have credit cards whose minimum pays are right now at around $1500. We're considering bancruptcy. So what do we do? Join Columbia House! That was a good idea, right? Right?

-I am a condiment slut. Every time I see a hotsauce I've never tried before, I buy it. If I eat steak, I usually drench it in A1, Heinz 57, and Tabasco sauce, then dip each piece in catsup. Right now on my desk I have a bottle of hot sauce and a tin of pepper, since I know there's no point in putting them away. The next time I eat something, I'll have to lug them back in here anyway.

-Even though I'm horrible at geography, I love maps and globes. The best thing about car trips is trying to plan the most direct route possible, trying to find the straightest lines between the two points. Fuck YahooMaps! Give me some Rand-McNalley I can fold and unfold! When I was around 11 or so, an Uncle that never sends presents on holidays or birthdays up and subscribed us to a year of National Geographic. I never read the articles, or even looked at the naked tribeswomen, but the maps were fascinating. I really need one of those fake globes that opens up to reveal a complete bar.

-In second grade I had a teacher that told the class that the last planet in the solar system is Neptune. You know how in all the textbooks, they have the perforated lines that show the planets orbits around the sun, and they always show Pluto in front of Neptune because aparently it does that sometimes? Yet if you still trace the line, you can see that Pluto's clearly the last planet. Well, I called her on it, and she argued with me, and I explained it to her. We moved on and she assigned something for us to work on, but a few minutes later she stopped us to admit that I was, in fact, right, but in a way that clearly showed she was not happy with being proven wrong by an 8 year old. Thinking back on it, it's really disturbing. This woman was old, and had been in the teaching game a long fuckig time. How many years worth of children did she send off thinking Neptune was the last planet? How many kids in later grades, or even in colleges around the country, were laughed at by their peers and teachers for saying something silly about Neptune being the last planet? And what about the ones that weren't caught? How many people are walking around out there RIGHT NOW, that are utterly convinced that Neptune comes last?

-Remember this writing exercise? "Go out and find something in nature such as a rock or a leaf. Now, write about how that object relates to you." Don't you just HATE that fucking exercise?

-There is a lot of oral sex in the stairway leading up to our apartment. I can think of at least twice either myself or my wife have encountered people sitting on the stairs acting guilty, the guys shielding their crotches. I wholeheatedly endorse this activity, as long as no one leaves pecker-tracks on the carpet.

Wooderson

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