The kids love a trip to the Dollar Store.  You know, those bastions of consumer nirvana that have you thanking your lucky stars that you popped in today.  Who knew that they would be featuring Phil Simms' latest book?  For a dollar?!  Give me two and I'll scratch a name off of my Christmas gift list. Surely one of my gift receivers would love to read about Jim Nantz's hair plugs.

Our last trip to the Dollar Store was going to be a quick grab and dash.  We needed birthday cards and wrapping paper for two upcoming birthdays.  The Hallmark people are great, but I'm not paying $4.00 for a card that will be read once (maybe) and then thrown away. Call me cheap, but at least it's not a torn out piece of spiral notebook paper with your name written in pencil.  It's got an envelope and everything. Be thankful. 

First of all, let me tell you what a pleasure it was to share the MD-80 with you on our flight from Milwaukee to Los Angeles. It was really unfortunate that you occupied the seat in front of me instead of next to me because we could have talked more. Lucky for me you spoke with such vigorous volume that I managed not to miss a word you said, the entire 5 hours.

I would also like to thank you for, how do I say this, accenting the seats around you with the unusual and exotic smells of your airport shop hot dog, mounded with fragrant sauerkraut. Not only did it's fruity aroma permeate better than half the plane but I had always been curious about what one would smell like as it announces its eventual descent. Thank goodness the lingering summer cold I had (that had rendered me unable to breath through my nose) abated just as we were flying home. Otherwise I would have been robbed of this unique sensory delight.

These smarty-pants scientists have got this whole "global warming" thing figured out, don't they?  Ok…whatever…but there are far more important questions in my mind that need to be explored scientists and experts in their fields.

I just read that they now think that second-hand cigarette smoke is not dangerous?  My 4th grade teacher Mrs. Jansen would disagree.  I still remember the demonstration where she took a cigarette and dis-colored the white sponge from the smoke.  If the sponge is brown, you have cancer.  I am scared of brown sponges to this day.

I ate lunch with a friend today and he was kind enough to point out that I was spitting on his food while we talked.  I apologized and told him I'd be more careful.

As we continued eating, both of us lamenting about the state of the world today, I noticed my tiny spit globules flying around.  Once he'd made me aware, I could see how bad it was.

We're talking Old Faithful here.

In the future…

• Mimes will be considered the height of humorous interpretation.

• There will be an entire religion built around Elvis Presley, and we will be awaiting his second, or possibly third, coming. During ‘Hips’ -- the Elvish equivalent of Lent -- all foods will be fried and bananas will be required to be a part of every meal.

• Hollywood will blame the newest media and entertainment advances for “the worst box office in the last decade” instead of accepting the fact that no one really wanted to see “Shrek 16: It’s Just Not Funny Anymore” or “Spiderman 27: Spidey Bores His Great-Grandkids Yapping About Doc Ock” in the first place.

I know what you're thinking, but I ain't got no problem with women drivers.  Not when they're driving.  As long as they ain't putting on no makeup or talking on the phone or beating some kid in the back seat while they're trying to drive, I ain't got no problem.

But I got a favor to ask.  When you park your car, get the f*ck out of it.

It takes a lot of schooling to be a doctor.  First you have to get your undergraduate degree, then go to graduate school, then get into med school.  And because competition is so tough, you need almost perfect grades the whole way.

I have a lot of respect for doctors and all they do.  I don't mind calling them "doctor."  But the line has to be drawn somewhere.