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Summer hatin’

Dear Summer,

I love you. I really do. Now go away.

Love, Mike

P.S. That was a lie. I hate you.

Yes, it’s that time of year when we have technically transitioned into fall, but where it is still a bajillion degrees outside and mosquitoes still feast on me if I am outside for about a millisecond.

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Hula hoop dreams

When my daughter was little, probably the most common thing she heard me say was, “Hula hoop!”

Now, I know what you’re thinking. Either (a) that’s a very odd thing to have your child Hula hoop on command or (b) why?

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Pillow talk

I am a simple person, with simple pillow needs. The other three people in my house? Complex people, with ridiculously complex pillow needs.

Over the past 20 or so years, I have had two pillows. The first one was a fine pillow, probably purchased for something like $3, and it did its job for years, which was to provide some minor elevation for my head during sleep. I didn’t need it to do much more, because during 98% of my time spent with it, I was unconscious. The pillow could have been writing angry manifestos in its spare time and I wouldn’t have cared. I was asleep.

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Driving me crazy

I try to be a courteous driver. And with that comes resisting the urge to become a vengeful road vigilante when other drivers are not.

Granted, if I did go to vigilante mode, it would be super passive-aggressive, where I would do something like leave a note on someone’s car window long after I was sure they were nowhere around to see me place it.