I had no idea what was going on in my toolboxes. Every time I go in there looking for a rusty lump of steel masquerading as a tool, I can never seem to find it. I always thought it was because I left it on the garage floor. Or on the air cleaner under the hood. …
I have a soft spot for skateboarders. Back in the day, I used to skateboard at the Boston Common. People would grumble a bit, but no one called the cops on me or anything. I never bumped into anyone, and I minded my own business. Every once in a while, someone would see me rollin’, but instead of hatin’, they’d ask me if they could give it a go. …
If I had a death wish, I’d answer the question, “Do these pants make my bum look big?” If I had a death wish, I’d answer the question, “What are you looking at?” If I had a death wish, I’d go back for seconds at the buffet on a cruise ship. …
OK, we get it. You like magnets. You really like magnets. You really, really like magnets. I find it unsurprising that you spent your childhood playing with magnets, because, of course, you’ve explained that you really, really, really like magnets. Other children might play with a stick, or a rag, or a broken bottle, but that wasn’t good enough for you. No, you needed magnets to hold your attention. …