1. What’s your favorite orange-colored food?  Push-ups.  I prefer the old school rainbow cardboard.
2. What’s the best way to drink orange juice?  Through a straw, the same way I drink all beverages (except beer).
3. Which candy’s orange-colored pieces taste best?  Brach’s orange gems.
4. What are your feelings about orange soda?  It’s lovely in a can, less lovely in my mouth.
5. When did you last wear an orange item of clothing?  When am I not wearing orange clothing? I should be on a Florida Natural box.

John McCain’s choice of Sarah Palin for V.P:  Discuss.  Perhaps it’s my female perspective, or my extreme liberal views, but I feel that this blatant kow-towing to the ultra-conservatives is not only ill-judged, it’s offensive to the female population.  Unfortunately, knowing the American voting populace, I fear it could also win him the election.  The nausea is beginning to set in, I hope Obama has some real magic in store…

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PQH-W-yBqvg

Go forth, bloggers, and make it happen.

Someone messaged me today that “someone had stolen one of my old e-mail accounts.”  I went to the place they pointed me at, and it’s someone we once knew mutually.  It’s nothing to worry about, the old e-mail account wasn’t stolen, and everything is fine.  Confusing, but fine.  I used to have a blog at imacucumber.net, but it was years ago and is now defunct.  In short, this person isn’t me, hasn’t stolen my account, and I am no longer in communication with them.  Don’t update me on their status or tell me about their life, as it’s not my concern or my interest.  But, thank you for looking out for me, and the possibility that I may have been h4xZ0r3d.

Aside from my wedding day, this is the happiest day of my life…

Today is the first day of classes here at ol’ MSU.  Some funnies from this morning:

• THRONGS (with an R, people) of bleary-eyed students reporting to 8 AM classes.  This may be the only week this semester some of them actually make it.
• One lone shoe nestled in the grass outside the front door of my office.  If it’s yours, I found it, come pick it up.
• As happens every year, two sweet freshmen reported dutifully to class this morning thinking my office was Wells Hall.  It’s not, but it is WH.  Looking at where I work, you’d think it’d be pretty obvious, but they still sat down at the conference table as though they were ready for algebra.  I’m somewhat glad I found them before anyone else did.  In other news, we probably need better security.

A few years before I met my lovely wife, my dear friend Corey dated a girl for a little while. When he figured out that she might be a psychopath and decided to end their brief relationship, she turned her sights on me. The worst of it culminated after one of the band’s shows which she attended, apparently in the hopes of either getting Corey back or bedding me … I don’t think she really cared which.

Regardless, Corey was smart enough to stay away from her, but I’m an idiot and, because she claimed that her “friends had left her,” I ended up with her in my house, spending the night. Now, before you get any ideas in your head, she slept on my futon and, despite her invitation to join her, I slept in my own damned room.

She kept calling for a while, but I kept ignoring her. Then, at a party at a mutual friend’s house, she basically kept cornering me. All I wanted was to get away. Another friend, Tim, suggested that I tell her, “I only do anal.”

Today, I found Tim on LinkedIn. I haven’t seen him in quite some time. I sent him a request to join my LinkedIn network. I promptly received a reply. It read, “I only do anal.”

I replied, “I hoped you’d say that …”

Every year it happens, as the air chills and the light assumes its golden sunset incandescence.   The invisible lightswitch flips and my mind is alight with images of Spartan green intermingled with the luscious red and rich brown of falling leaves.  Every year it happens, as the electric charge of University life, carried in student ions, returns after summer’s drowse.  Every year it happens, and today I’m beginning to feel it.  Can you?

Alright, here goes …

•  I was appointed king of Spain for 13.5 days in early 1946 as part of an agreement between the United States and Moorish traders looking to bring exotic spices from the far east. My reign ended badly when an unfortunate faux pas involving soup etiquette became a national news sensation.
• Sometimes when I wake up in the morning I can’t remember anything about who I am and what I do for a living. During these brief moments, I often come to believe that I’m a British MI6 operative under deep cover.
• Every fourth Tuesday of the month, I eat 23 bagels while adoring fans watch and cheer.
• I have no biological parents.
• I invented dirt.
• Each year, near the time of the harvest, I will sometimes spend hours in a near comatose state repeating the words, “We’ll never get this corn loaded” over and over.