My mouth is watering. My stomach is making noise, the kind that other people can hear. Foods that I would not otherwise like seem… palatable. Even cheese.

Yeah, no… I’ve got to take that one back. No coagulated sour milk for me please.

The time has come for some serious hunting and gathering. With the comforts of 21st century society, no tools are necessary. All I need is the will and desire to rise to my feet and walk to the cookie jar. Thank God for processed foods, grocery stores, and wives that don’t mind doing all of the shopping.

Yesterday, I was feeling unwell. Today, I am feeling less unwell. This cold has been an absolute blast and all, but I’m ready for the day when I don’t need to give Cheryl the daily report on the color of my ejecta.

Would you believe that the automatic spell checker on my word processor did not recognize the word ” ejecta “? What is this world coming to? Next time you’re out in public, do your little dictionary a favor and work the word “ejecta” into your conversation. You’ll be glad you did.

One of two things is going on in my house: either one of my favorite universal laws has suddenly become less universal, or I’m putting on mass.

Have you ever heard of Occam’s Razor ?

There are two big growth spurts in life. You get taller in your teens and thicker in your thirties. I am soon to be thirty-two. It would seem that the 30’s thickening is well under way.