Pulled over.

It happened last night, and it didn't end well. Hey, I explained to the officer that I have conjunctivitis and, unfortunately, in the perfect storm of bad luck that my life has become, I'd been sucking on a Jägermeister flavored lozenge.

Jolt Shrugs

Who is Hang Jolt?

Hint: S/he was a famous titan of the anagram industry in the early 1950s.

Another hint: S/he was Ayn Rand's high-priced lover.

Post-it® philosophy

Life is just like a Post-it® note, except bigger, and it doesn't have the sticky part on one side. Also, it's usually white. You can write on both though. Well, you can't really literally write on life, but you can write on Post-it® notes -- I do know that much.

Making lemonade.

Look, I don't mean to hold myself out as some sort of self-help guru but folks, I have it figured out. We all know that you make your own luck, so why don't you do yourself a favor and follow my advice. Ready? Here we go!

You of course have heard, and yes it is true, that when life hands you lemons you must make lemonade. In other words, problems are really opportunities in disguise.

So just remember this simple model: The drunker you get, the stupider you act. And the stupider you act, the more problems you cause. The more problems you cause the more opportunities you create. And the more opportunities you create, the more of that sweet ice cold lemonade you get to gulp down.

Caveat: all that alcohol and lemonade are going to have a lot of calories so make sure you do a few sit-ups along the way.

Kindergarten pick-up problems

I swear I have the worst luck. So yesterday at about 1:30pm I'm pulling into the elementary school to pick up my daughter from kindergarten right? Now I'm man enough to admit that I shouldn't have had all that red wine with lunch but we were at an Italian restaurant -- come on.

In any case at 40 mph I know I was probably going too fast though that parking lot but I lost track of my speed because I was sending an important (and urgent) text at the time. Well, suffice it to say that I'm dealing with a very serious legal problem today and there's significant damage to my car. Additionally I've got a family across town here who I really think literally wants to kill me. I mean Jesus Christ, don't they teach kids to look both ways before stepping off that curb anymore???

The Sound of Absence

Orson Welles apparently said: "The enemy of Art is the absence of limitations." Well of course I think that's true but he forgot to state the obvious corollary which is: "The enemy of Garfunkel is the absence of Paul."

Dystopian Present

I've had the realization recently that I'll likely have grandchildren who will be alive in the year 2112. Boy, I sure the hell hope that they're more impressed with the modern state of technology and society that year than I was back when I was living though 1984.

I see dead people.

I SEE DEAD PEOPLE!!! Oh, by the way, and this may or may not necessarily be germane to the particular discussion we're having here today, but I'm a mortician by trade.

Magic Lawn Mower Ride

If you were to reverse the direction the blade spins on your lawn mower do you think it would lengthen your grass? Well, the answer, counterintuitively enough, is no.

I tried it and it simply turns the mower into a very loud hovercraft. I put my dog Moxie on it and pushed her out onto the lake. I'm pretty sure she liked it. Man, she must of thought she was on some sort of flume ride from hell!

The secret of success.

Aristotle Onassis apparently said, "The secret of success is to know something nobody else knows."

Boy, it is so true -- and precisely the reason why I am so incredibly rich and successful as compared to most of you folks.

For example, check this out. Do you know the exact contents of my bellybutton right now? Please, you do not, yet I do. Guess what? I recently put a half-chewed Skittle in there, and you had absolutely no clue. Ka-ching!! There's another million in the bank for me!

My anonymous donation to charity.

My friends, I must now confess something to you all that's very important. Someday, when I'm really wealthy, I'm going to donate one billion dollars anonymously to charity. That's right bro, that's a 'B' as in BILLION.

Of course, it's highly unlikely that I'll ever even have a billion dollars let alone be giving it away, but I just wanted to preemptively make the announcement here today so I can get full credit for being the great philanthropist that I am.

Atheists Exposed

Oh my god, I am Ben-freaking-Franklin because I've just made an amazing discovery. (Or maybe I just had an epiphany.)

Look, we've all seen how most atheists have a noticeably condescending tone and mean-spiritedness in their rhetoric, right?

Well here it is folks. Meditate on this one: In the same way that most gay-bashers have homosexual tenancies themselves (that they just haven't come to terms with), most atheists are really theists with conflicting underlying beliefs of which they are not aware.

You hear that atheist dudes and dudettes? You're kindred spirits with the gay-bashing rednecks of the world. Your parents must be so very proud.

If I had just one wish.

If I had just one wish, and I mean just one wish, it would be that all the world's psychopaths who were planning murder/suicide rampages would become dyslexic and do their work in the reverse order.

Harry and the Holy Trinity

(For Catholics Only.)

Wouldn't you just love to be a fly on the wall listening in as God the Father, Jesus Christ and the Holy Spirit try to sort out what to do with the soul of your Uncle Harry (who just died)?

God: OK, I vote for sending this guy directly to Hell. He's been pissing me off for years. I almost decided to visit a highly individualized personal plague upon his ass a few years back.

Jesus: Oh, come on. He wasn't all that bad.

God: Yes he was! Don't you remember when he was breaking Commandments left and right back between his late teens and mid 30's? Jesus Christ! I can't even believe we're having this discussion.

Holy Spirit: My view is that, while Harry certainly wasn't perfect, he was essentially a kind man with a good heart -- and he did become rather spiritual towards the end.

God: "Spiritual?" "Spiritual?!" I swear-to-fucking-Me, I've heard that word used mores time in the last 10 years. What the hell's it even supposed to mean?

Holy Spirit: Hey, trust me, you're preaching to the choir here God. I just think that....

God (cutting Him off): Let me ask you guys a question: When's the last time we saw this douchebag take the Sacrament of Reconciliation? For that matter when's the last time he was even at Mass? This SOB died with more mortal sins on his soul than JFK.

Jesus: Um, Father? Take a look at this (pointing to writing on a scroll of parchment paper). Looks like old Harry lucked out. He was at Bon Secours Hospital when he died -- and even though he was totally unconscious at the time, he received Anointing of the Sick, and by a Monsignor no less.

God: What? How?

Holy Spirit (looking at the same document): When his daughter checked him in at the hospital that night, on the paperwork she filled out she wrote Catholic in the "religion" box. This is sure to put this fellow over the top. He's bubble/IN.

God (disgusted): OK, OK, but I want maximum temporal punishment for this little puke. Take our current Purgatory max and double it!

Jesus: Will do Father. I'm on it. Hey Pete! Can you come in here? We've got a new tenant I want to talk to you about.

Blood Drawn

It seems to happen every time. Please, someone tell me it's not just me, that other people go through the same thing.

As an adult I've found that every few years I have to go and have my blood drawn for some reason. (Could be I'm buying more life insurance, or my doctor has ordered some test, or whatever.)

So just last week I'm there at the "lab" waiting my turn, and they call my name, and that's when it starts -- the fear.

What am I afraid of? Look, I don't know this "lab technician" from a hole in the wall. I mean, what if she's psycho? "OK, just put your arm up here and relax your hand," she says. She then pulls out that big rubber band/hose thing and ties it around the crook of my arm.

"Oh dear God," I think, "Please don't let this person be some sort of psychopath who acts and looks normal, but is now about ready to exact her revenge on society and the world by purposely infecting everyone she can with some sort of terrible virus or poison." I don't know where that needle has been prior to my sitting down here! I've read in the news about this type of thing happening.

I try to calm myself down. I study her. Breath. She looks fine, nicely groomed. "Are you doing OK?" she asks.

"Yes, I'm fine." (No, I'm not! I'm sure that tons of the nut-jobs of the world are nicely groomed.)

It's over now. I'm leaving. And once again I'm disgusted with myself for my irrational thoughts. It won't last long though. I've learned this. Get in my car. I'll be fine by the time I get home. Just another stupid 'Dan Green' type episode.

You are a product.

You, my friend, are a product. And I don't mean that you are a product of society or your upbringing. I'm not talking about your being a product of your genetic makeup and your environment.

I mean you are quite literally a product. The value that you bring to the world can easily be quantified. How? Just multiply together all ten digits of your cell phone number. (Your PDA/phone is your alter ego. It facilitates your ability to connect with and exchange information with all of the universe.)

My product is 3,780,000. What's yours? 0? Yeah, that doesn't surprise me. And to be honest there's a lot of other folks out there who are just like you. Big fat zeros!

Holocaust deniers

You know about the Holocaust deniers right? I just don't understand those douchebags -- on a couple levels really.

The first one's obvious. They deny fact that is clearly demonstrable.

The second one's more subtle though. We already know that they're a bunch of anti-Semites, but if you think about it, even from their perspective, their stance doesn't really make sense. I mean wouldn't true Jew-haters be proud of the Holocaust? They wouldn't be denying it. They'd be bragging about it:

"Holocaust? Don't really know what that word means but I do know that Adolf and da boys went all apeshit on dem kikes and almost got the entire job done!"

"Just six million bagel dogs you say? Hell's bells, in Poland alone maybe!"

Drinking Blood

I grew up Catholic so am used to injesting a dude's blood. I cut my finger pretty bad the other night while making fresh salsa and just said: "So what? It's all red anyway," and kept going. Saved money by not using a band-aid too. Eventually that thing clotted up quite nicely.

Sheet management.

I have the unenviable job of "tucking" the kids in many nights -- and for those of you who have never had to do it, I can tell you that it's not as easy as it sounds.

You see, young kids have absolutely no skills with respect to sheet management during slumber. In other words, while they may be able to keep the blanket up to their chin the whole night, by the time the morning comes, the sheet(s) have invariably been pushed to the very bottom of the bed -- under the covers.

So, assuming the little SOBs didn't make their bed that day (which is a pretty safe bet) by the time they return to bed that night, well, we got a problem -- and guess who's expected to solve it?

No worries though, I'm in the process of inventing a contraption that uses a series of strings and wires to prevent the sheets from being pushed down. Works like a charm too. Only bug in the system so far is that we've had a few near strangulations. I'm still working on it though. I'll keep you posted.

Highlights Magazine!

So I'm at the pediatric dentist's office yesterday with my kids right? Hey, look over there. Highlights Magazine! Cool. It's been so many years since I've read that thing. And now I'm thinking: You know what? Now that I'm an adult, I just might feel very differently about things. So I head over to the rack, open the magazine, find my favorite feature. Nope. Still want to beat the living crap out of Gallant.

Dad, there's a black man outside!

Yesterday I had a very uncomfortable experience. I hope it never happens to you.

So I'm in my home office working nicely. The wife and three of the four kids are out of the house. Emily, the five year-old, is playing on the computer in the front room.

I hear her yell out to me: "Dad, there's a black man outside!"

Now as you may know, kids will make lots of loud noises and yell out odd things from time to time. So I guess frankly although I heard her yell something, I wasn't really listening. It didn't sound urgent anyway, so I just kept working.

Again, this time much louder: "DAD, THERE'S A BLACK MAN OUTSIDE!" Nothing ominous in the voice, just simply stating a fact as she saw it.

OK, so now I'm walking towards the front room and my brain's processing the whole thing. There is clearly a man at the front door, probably black, and Emily has seen him through the front window. (I thought I heard the doorbell ring?) I look out the peep hole. Yep, just what I thought. FedEx guy. African American FedEx guy with a package.

You getting the picture yet? My mind started to race. Sizing up the situation, I had to figure there was about a 90-95% chance that the young man standing outside that front had heard every one of Emily's words. The poor guy's got to be thinking that he's about to deliver a package to a white-trash, hillbilly, racist family, right? What do I do?!

I know, I'll just address it head-on. Something like, "You know, you must have heard her -- my daughter. I don't know why she felt the need to specify to me that you were a "black" man. I mean, we like black people -- we have tons of black friends, hundreds! Oh, you know what? I do let her watch The Family Guy and The Cleveland Show from time to time. I bet that's where she picked it up!" No good. Abort plan. It will never work.

In a split second I made the decision. I would just open the door, accept the package and just pretend the whole thing never happened.

So that's what I did, but with an embarrassing twist. As I accepted the package, chatted with the fellow, signed his electronic pad, I guess I must have felt the need somehow to let him know that I liked him a lot. No need to worry about Dan Green being a racist! I was super nice. I smiled. My eyes were incredibly friendly, my voice warm and charming.

As I said goodbye and closed the door it hit me that the poor guy must have thought I was coming on to him. Boy, I hope I never have to experience anything like that again.

Thinking Via the Box

Are you a creative trailblazer? If so, you must always remember to: "Think {Insert any random preposition here} the box."

You say, "Wait Dan, please. I have a list here of about 70 different prepositions I got off the internet, and a lot of them don't really work. For example, I can't think 'amid' the box."

And of course you really can (and should). You simply need to have the ability to think per the box my friend.

Demonologist

I don't really believe in the supernatural -- especially things like ghosts, devils and the like. The other day I read about some dude who claimed to be a demonologist. (That was his line of work I guess.)

I say that some nouns ought not be allowed to add the -ologist suffix -- and "demon" is one.

On a somewhat related note (and I guess you're going to say that it makes me a bit of a hypocrite), I am actually a licensed Leprechaunologist, and my (late) uncle Rick was a Bogeymanologist -- until the Bogeyman got rather annoyed over it all.

How to Determine if Someone is Truly an Atheist, or The Kübler-Ross Gambit.

I've got a foolproof method to determine if someone who proclaims to be an atheist really is -- in seven easy steps! Try it.

Step I) Kidnap the person who told you he's an atheist and place him in a previously highly secured room in your home. Make sure the room's equipped with hidden cameras and microphones so that you can keep tabs on him. Also, there should be a speaker system in the room so that you can talk directly to him through that sound system.

Step II) Inform this "atheist" that while you admit to being quite mad, you're willing to feed him his favorite fast food items. Ask him what they are. Let's say for our purposes here it's Big Mac and fries.

Step III) After withholding any and all food for days, deliver the McDonald's food -- nice and hot.

Step IV) Tell the "atheist" that, in keeping with your proclivity for madness, you've decided to kill him. Let him know that the McDonald's food he ate was laced with a highly potent poison that will be killing him in exactly 8 hours. (You don't really need to poison the poor schmuck -- the key here is just to act crazy enough, so that he'll believe you.) It is absolutely key though that he believes he has been poisoned, and that there is absolutely no antidote. Death is imminent.

Step V) Tell him that while the death that occurs as a result of ingesting this particular toxin involves highly painful symptoms prior to death, you're willing to help out by providing him with very strong pain killers, but under one condition: He has to verbally walk you through his entire thought process -- from that moment all the way up to his death. He'll go for it, probably.

Step VI) OK, it's pay dirt time. Even if we didn't take that Thanatology class back in college, we all know, or have heard of the five stages of death and dying: 1] Denial, 2] Anger, 3] Bargaining, 4] Depression, 5] Acceptance. (This is why I also refer to this whole ploy as the "Kubler-Ross Gambit.") As our hostage here verbally emits his stream of consciousness (per your agreement) the hidden mikes pick it all up as he rambles through the five stages. It should go something like this: Stage 1] Denial. "I don't believe it! You didn't poison my food!" Stage 2] Anger. "You A-hole!! You're a crazy SOB!" Stage 3] Bargaining. HERE IS WHERE THE TRUE ATHEIST IS REVEALED OR EXPOSED AS A BELIEVER. In this stage the dying person will attempt to bargain with a supernatural power of some sort and will think or say something like, "God, I know I haven't been to church in a long time -- I guess it's been since I was a kid really, but if you just get me out of this I'll give half my earnings to charity -- forever." A 100% real bonafide atheist will of course skip this step all together and move on to Stage 4] Depression (at which time he'll probably get all quiet).

Step VII) That's it. You're done with the project. You now know whether or not your subject is truly an atheist. You can even let him go now if you'd like. However, I really wouldn't do that if I were you. He's likely to go to the police and you're looking at some pretty serious kidnapping charges.