“Hello…911?”
“Yes. You have reached SORI, the Safety Outreach Response Initiator. I am the screening and dispatch coordinator of your local police, fire, and ambulance services. Do you require immediate assistance?”
“Well, no, I tried calling earlier, but I got the wrong—”
“You may have contacted a multi-national technology corporation that has a partially-eaten fruit as its logo.”
You know you’re getting older because you are aging, and because you are aging, surely you have noticed how difficult it can be to force yourself out of bed each morning. Do not mistake this feeling of lethargy as some sort of warning sign from your body. This new age tendency to portray fatigue as some kind of physical ailment is a bunch of hogwash. Low iron levels are a myth, and any sweat producing exercise can lead to a severe imbalance in your body’s humors.
Dear Principal Andy Lendelsom,
I want to bring to your attention a situation involving your students with the hope that we can resolve this issue. The bus stop shelter in front of the 7-Eleven at the intersection of Price and Monroe is filled every day before school with your students smoking marijuana. They have apparently mistaken it for a clubhouse, wallpapered with advertisements for the seasonal return of traditional meals to fast food restaurants involving green coloring and fake rib molds.
I’m Bryce. There’s so much happening right now and my schedule is crammed to the gills that suddenly I went all genius and realized I needed to make one big, epic post to cover all I need to say. Get this: I need a job, am looking for a place to live, have a demo of my music I’m willing to give to anyone who can truly appreciate it, and I want to know who that sexy chick was at the gas station yesterday. I think we had a moment, so hopefully you check out Craigslist on the regular, sweetie.
Raymond Chandler once said that chess was as elaborate a waste of intelligence as you could find outside an advertising agency. Still, it had always been a human waste. As a last redoubt of the rarified mind, it was an irresistible target for programmers and purveyors of the new “thinking machines.” By the 1980s, computers had reached a level of sophistication that allowed them to challenge a grand master. As it happened, the world’s greatest chess player in the mid-80’s was a restless genius named Garry Kimovich Kasparov (pronounced “Gary” in Russian).