Seriously... I'm Kidding

up tripping over a lamp cord on your way to the bookshelf. The cord will knock over the lamp, causing the lightbulb inside to shatter into a million pieces. You’ll keep walking, trying to avoid all the glass but how can you, it’s all tiny, tiny shards scattered about a shag rug. So you’ll accidentally step on a piece and you’ll scream, “Shoot!” because your New Year’s resolution was to curse less and, even though it’s hard, you’ve managed to hold pretty true to your word. Except for that one time when you jammed your finger in the car window outside church and you yelled such a specific, horrible series of expletives that you actually had to stop going to that church and go to the one in the neighboring town.
    After you yell “Shoot!” your wife or husband or son or daughter will wake up from all the commotion. Your son was probably awake anyway because he just got home after sneaking out of the house to meet his friends in the mall parking lot. That’s always been your greatest fear. You worry that he goes there to cause mischief but really he’s a good kid who just wants to fit in and hang out with his friends. He’s actually never even touched a cigarette let alone smoked one, or smoked anything for that matter. I mean, one time he tried cocaine but that was only because his friends told him it was sugar and who doesn’t love sugar? Especially after sleeping with a hooker. I’m not saying your son slept with a hooker, I’m just saying everyone loves sugar.
    So your son runs into the living room to see what happened. He finds you clutching your foot, which is bleeding from the glass, muttering curses under your breath. It’s actually a nice moment because he gets you some ice and asks if you’re okay. You tell him you are and you ask him if you can borrow one of his algebra textbooks because you’re having trouble sleeping. Turns out he’s a senior in high school and he hasn’t taken algebra in three years, he takes calculus now. He gets upset that you don’t know anything about him, yells something about his “real dad,” and storms out of the house. But he never tells you where his calculus books are, so you’re back to square one, only worse off because of the glass in your foot and the sadness in your heart.
    So what I’ve done for you is included some math equations here in this chapter. You just have to read them and you’ll be dreaming of rainbows or puppies or being naked in English class in no time at all.
    E=MC 2 . Are you still awake?
    The square root of 144 is 12. Still up?
    If a train carrying cargo pants is traveling due east at 50 miles an hour and a bus carrying bananas is traveling north at 60 miles an hour, how much wood would a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood? Have you fallen asleep yet?
    Okay, if that didn’t do the trick, I have more help to offer. People love to count sheep to go to sleep. But that can be hard, too, because you have to get out of bed, find a reputable shepherd in your area, and hope they can deliver you over 109 sheep on a moment’s notice. So what I’m going to recommend instead is that you count—stay with me—imaginary sheep. Yep, that’s why they pay me the big bucks. For ideas like that.
    Let’s do it together. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten. Eleven. Fourteen. Twenty. Twenty-one. Twenty-two. Forty-eight. You know what, I’m not great at counting. Let’s move on.
    I have one more idea. This will work best if you pretend I’m hovering over your face swinging a pocket watch from side to side. Stare straight ahead. You’re getting very sleeeeeeepy. Verrrrrryyyyy sleeeeeepyyyyyyyyy. Verrrrryyyyyy—wait! WAKE UP! I just realized something very important. I don’t want you waking up in the morning, going to work, and telling people you fell asleep last night reading my book. That would be horrible! What would they think?! They would think my book is boring and dull. I can’t have that. Wake up! Go get yourself a cup of coffee, pour some Red Bull in it, splash some cold water on your face, and read on!

Letter to Mall Security

To Whom It May Concern:
I am writing in regard to your letter dated March third where you cite my potential involvement in what your company has deemed the “Vase Breaking Incident.”
First of all, kudos to your team for tracking me down so quickly using, I assume, only my license plate number. I assure you I was not “fleeing the scene” as your letter