the tree of woe

I found a recipe for macaroni and cheese this morning, and I couldn’t help but notice the complexity of the whole process. Even the list of ingredients was quite long, and for me, would necessitate a trip to a grocery store, because I usually don’t have any shallots or cloves of garlic on hand. I know I don’t have any “kosher” salt. I have the salt in the large round container with the girl holding the umbrella on the front, and I think it’s safe to say that whatever company manufactures it doesn’t have a Rabbi on the line.

Anyway, I found a way to simplify this recipe. Click here, then click “Add to Shopping Cart.” It will take a little longer (5-9 business days) before you can actually start eating, but after that it becomes a pretty easy process.

I spotted a sign on I580 today. This is, to the best of my recollection, what it said:

Next Exit: Oakland Airport

Zoo And Coliseum

Now I’m all for saving the taxpayers money, and for the consolidation of government programs. This seems to me, however, to be a little bit much. I’m not sure how the functions of a zoo, an airport and a coliseum overlap, but I can’t find a good reason for combining them all into one entity. I suppose that they could mean:

Next Exit:

Oakland Airport

Oakland Zoo

Oakland Coliseum

But that isn’t what the sign said.

Perhaps the goats wander the coliseum after Raiders games, eating the trash and saving on janitorial costs. The elephants could dispense drinks out of their trunks, too. Tigers would function as can openers with their giant fangs. It would be just like the Flintstones. I don’t know how the airport enters into it.

Do you find yourself running out of time during the course of the day? Are you too busy? Learn how to save time by using these simple time saving techniques to squeeze every drop of efficiency out of your time.

1. Work from home. If this isn’t possible, call in sick every day until you think they’re on to you. Then, return for a day or two. Repeat the process.
2. Stop using words with more than two syllables. Also, stop using “extra” words. “Talk like caveman. More time. Fire good, cook food.” Like that.
3. Actually, stop cooking your food. This will also save on energy costs now, and later(when you keel over.)
4. Make lists. Make sure you always have a shopping list, a to-do list, and an enemies list handy. Just be sure not to mix them up, especially if you have an uncle named Ben, a cardiologist named Michael Pepper, M.D., or if your commanding officer is Captain William M. Crunch.
5. Get ready the night before. Put out your clothes, put coffee and water in the coffee maker, and pack your lunch the night before. The extra sleep will help you look rested, calm and confident for the jury. Every little bit helps(according to your public defender.)
6. Learn to say no.”Will you give me a ride to the airport?”, “Will you organize the family reunion?”, “Can I have your kidney to live?” Feel free to say no.

A few weeks ago I was sitting in a Starbucks, enjoying a lovely breakfast of coffee and a blueberry scone, when I noticed a gentleman get in line. He was wearing a shirt and tie, and seemed a little nervous, like he was going to a job interview or something. He seemed like anybody else there, just getting breakfast before starting his day, when I noticed something in his hand. It was a manila folder, not unusual at all, save for the writing on the tab of the folder. The folder was titled “Earthquakes.

Why a folder titled “Earthquakes”? He was too old to be in school(at least, too old to be in a school where he would have to do a report simply titled “Earthquakes.”) And he didn’t have the look of a seismologist. I can only conclude that he was a mad scientist, bent on the destruction of the world(or at least the destruction of California.)

The moral of the story is that supervillains need a complete and nourishing breakfast too, just like the rest of us. They’re not that different, after all.

I like sleeping. Besides the obvious reasons, I like it because every now and then you get a pretty neat adventure.

Every now and then, I get what is called a lucid dream. A few times a year, I’ll be dreaming, and during the dream, I’ll actually figure out that I’m dreaming. First, I’ll notice something very, very bizarre. A talking wastebasket is a pretty good clue(warning: talking inanimate objects could also indicate you’re watching a Muppet movie. Proceed with caution.)

Once I think I might be dreaming, I test my new hypothesis. I’ll try to do something impossible, like levitating, or saying something nice about Michael Moore. If it works, two things happen. One, I realize I’m dreaming, and two, out comes the lightsaber.