My Sophomore Year I Spent Exactly One

While Some Of My Closest Friends Were Jocks, It Seemed That They Spoke A Different Language With Each Other. Joining In Their Conversation Was Fraught With Risk.

I'd Rather Call Myself A Mischief-maker, An Imp, Rather Than A Satirist. Satirist Sounds So Self Important. Plus No One Is Calling Himself An Imp Right Now. It Makes Me Feel Special.

I Know A Lot About A Few Things - Mostly Useless Things.

I Love The Excess Of Christmas. The Shopping Season That Begins In September, The Bad Pop Star Recordings Of Christmas Carols, The Decorations That Don't Know When To Come Down.

One Could Say, That #‎ Masons Were Raised Right.