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I escaped from the zoo at the age of six.

Truth be told, I think the zoo keepers left my cage open on purpose. Now that I think about it, I’m not even sure it was really a zoo.

sweet-cornI lost 10 lbs. in one week once on the “Corn Diet”.

In college, my friend Dan and I would always joke about the “Corn Diet”, a diet consisting entirely of varying forms of corn. Corn on the cob, frozen corn, creamed corn, corn pops cereal. The theory was that you could lose a lot of weight on this diet because corn seems to pass through human bodies without changing form. So your stomach would be full, but your body would have to burn the fat on reserve because the corn would only be acting as a filler. We never tried the diet though, because we thought that the last part of the corn’s journey through us would be painful if it only consisted of corn.

Sometimes, at night, I dress up in a large skunk costume and run around my back yard.

Mainly, I do this just to freak out my dog, who once got sprayed in the face by a skunk in my back yard. Secondarily, I do it because it is fun and good exercise.

I learned the hard way that you cannot make more money simply by cutting it in half.

Quarters are really hard to cut in half anyway, and nothing ever costs 12.5 cents. Oh, yeah, and stores complain when you hand them a dollar bill that has been cut in half.

I also learned this about neighbors.

The best you could hope for is that your old neighbors, whom you cut in half, would move on and be replaced by whole neighbors. More likely, you will go to jail where you will not like your new neighbors at all.

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In the debated between boxers and briefs, I say “Depends.”

Like the adult diaper. Get it? I’m hilarious. No, I’m not. That was a hurtful thing to say about people who can’t even control their own bowels. See my video apology here.

I may or may not be fluent in Dwarfish.

Not High Dwarfish though, just Low Dwarfish. “What is the difference?” you ask. More grunting.

funny_looking_babyI think 83% of babies are funny looking.

I mean, you guys are on Facebook too, right? You’ve seen the photos that people put on there of babies. Are you going to tell me that you haven’t had the same thought? There are some seriously messed-up looking babies out there.

P.S. If we are Facebook friends and you have recently posted baby photos, obviously I am not talking about you or your baby. Your baby is wonderful and beautiful and/or handsome. I’m talking about the other babies. You know the ones.

I horde emails.

It’s a problem. I have well over 1,000 unread emails just sitting there in my inbox, mocking me every time I am brave enough to log in to my email account. I think I’ve decided to stop calling it my inbox and start calling it my “unread email collection.”

The first thing I did upon arriving at my new job as assistant director of a camp in Montana was break the toilet.

True story. Sorry again, Dale. I’d like to blame the state of Nebraska. Traveling is never good on the bowels, but when a person has to travel the length of that God-forsaken wasteland, his insides revolt in unexpected ways. Mine waited until I stopped in Montana before they unleashed the porcelain-cracking fury that was my movement. Okay, no porcelain was cracked, but it did overflow a bit. After it was replaced, I used the broken one as a flower planter on my trailer’s porch. So, you know, I’m pretty fancy.

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I find the sound of fingernails on a chalkboard to be soothing.

It’s the music of Kenny G that I find revolting. Don’t get me wrong. I respect a man who can circular breathe, but that doesn’t mean I like what he does with his talent.

Growing up, I told people that my brother and I had a little sister that our parents kept in the basement.

Her name was Christy (or Kristy or Christie or Kristie, seriously, how many ways are there to spell that name?). She was a toddler-sized doll that my Grandma made for my mom because my mom had only boys. Her hair was made of yarn and was only attached to her head along the center seam, like a Mohawk. Naturally, my brother and I enjoyed putting her hair into a Mohawk whenever we could. I’m not sure what my parents thought about us telling people that we kept our sister in the basement, but if my girls did that, I’d think it was simultaneously funny and worrisome

I’m actually a dispossessed Nigerian prince, but whenever I try to get help reclaiming my throne, people act like I’m sending them spam.

Seriously people, just give me your bank account numbers and social security information! It’s a win-win!

Silver is my kryptonite (I may be an old-school vampire).

1991_geo_prizm-pic-3786True story. When it was time to get class rings in high school, every ring we ordered caused some kind of skin reaction. I couldn’t wear gold or silver, no matter how pure. So when we discovered that a class ring was not to be in my future, my parents put the money toward my first car instead. I was much happier with the car. Since then, my wife and I discovered a metal that didn’t react with my skin, so I am able to wear my wedding ring without any issues.

If I ever look as though I am deep in thought, I’m actually just replaying old episodes of Duck Tales in my head.

Duck Tales. Woo Ooh!

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rose_scentedMany people act as though their fecal matter is rose-scented. Mine actually is.

By that, I mean “well-fertilized” roses. Seriously, those roses smell terrible.

I am a technical Grease virgin.

Yes, I’ve played the songs from Grease in marching band. And yes, I sang the songs from Grease in choir. And yes, I know some of the details of the film. But I’ve never crossed the important line. I’ve never seen the movie. Nor do I plan to. I’d like to keep my Grease virginity until I die.

speedy_freezeI believe that one day, we will all have to answer for how many Frozen Cokes we have consumed while alive. I only hope I’ve had enough.

I mean, I’ve had quite a few. In fact, one summer I had so many that I got kidney stones. That was no fun. I was on quite a water kick after that. Well, until Frozen Cokes started sounding really good again, which was probably about two weeks later. But I started drinking them in moderation after that. And then after the second round of kidney stones, I cut down on them again. Basically, your body needs water. But still, I hope that when the final judgement comes, I’ve had enough.

I can turn lights on with my mind.

First my mind sends a signal to my hand. Then, my hand flips the light switch. Just like magic.

I was such an ugly baby, my folks showed pictures of my brother and told people it was me.

True story. I was born with the umbilical cord wrapped around my neck, so I came out all purple and nasty. I mean, most babies are pretty gross when they’ve just been born. My oldest looked so swollen, it was like she was stung by some a swarm of womb bees. But I was worse off, all peely and splotchy and nasty. So my parents did the only sane thing. They showed pictures of my brother when he was just born. All babies look pretty much the same at that point anyway. I don’t blame them, but I do tease them about it whenever I can.

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I only use my cell phone to talk (out loud) to people.

I don’t text or take pictures. I don’t use the internet on my phone. I just use it to talk, mostly to my wife. I’d be just as happy with a tin can and string combo if it got decent reception.

I was one of the original cast members of Full House until the studio decided they needed someone older to play Uncle Jesse.

I was discovered after appearing in a commercial for a local business. I was pretty bummed when the studio called me to let me know I wasn’t going to be Uncle Jesse. Oh well. It isn’t like I hold a grudge against that freak of nature, John Stamos.

Before I found out what it really meant, I thought the phrase “getting hammered” had something to do with getting drunk.

But now I know better. PS – Don’t ask me what it really means.

When playing “Rock, Paper, Scissors”, I only ever use Rock.

Seriously, when has Paper ever beaten Rock in real life? That’s why people use rocks as paperweights, not just more paper. If you are thinking about bringing up paper cuts, I’m way ahead of you. Rock cuts hurt too.

Striped_skunkI was once sent home from work because my smell was putting off customers.

True story. After an ill-timed run-in with a skunk, my wife and I foolishly let our dog, Cole, back into the house, where he promptly wiped his stinky body over every inch of our flooring and any clothes he could reach in our closet. The reason that we let him in was because we didn’t realize that it was a skunk at first. The incident happened just after we started using an invisible fence system. My wife saw Cole chase an animal toward the edge of the yard, but never saw them connect, nor did she see what the animal looked like. She only saw our dog hit the edge of his perimeter, then start freaking out and acting like his shock collar thing was killing him. In reality, the animal was a skunk who just happened to spray him directly on his shock collar.

This all happened in the early, early morning.

By the time we got the dog cleaned up (but before we got a chance to clean every square inch of our home), it was time for us to go to work. We showered and dressed, sniffed at each other, and headed out the door. Of course, our sniff test failed because by that time, we had lost our nasal sensitivity to how bad we stunk. I was at work for maybe an hour before my boss came over and said, “Josh, you smell terrible. Customers are complaining. You need to go home.”

So I did.

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I am a man trapped in the body of a man.

And I am attracted to my wife who is a smart and attractive woman trapped within the body of a smart and attractive woman. Our dog, however, is an annoying third-grader trapped inside the body of a black lab.

Whenever I enter a room, I announce my presence with a war cry.

Is there a better way to announce one’s presence? No.

Baby_rabbitMy war cry is “For Bunnies and Glory!”

On a side note, “Bunny” is the pet name that I use for my wife. It is not as commonly used in the USA as “Dear” or “Sugar Booger”, but it is quite popular in Germany. Or so I’m told. Also popular in Germany? David Hasselhoff.

Old people frighten me (and I frighten them).

I don’t know if it is the aging process in general that scares me or the bad smells that emanate from their rotting pre-corpse bodies. Probably the second one. It is a sad truth though that I will one day (hopefully) be an old person. As such, I’ve already started trying to acclimatize myself to bad smells. So if you come into contact with me and you think, “Wowza! Josh smells exactly like rotting meat and sulfur,” I’m just trying to get us both ready for the inevitable. You’re welcome.

loc_grI was in a television commercial as a child.

This one is actually true. It was a commercial for Rider’s Hobby Shop, the store that my dad has managed for forever. I think I was in second grade at the time. In it, I am seen playing with a remote control car. The real way that one would play with a remote control car is to stand up, hold the remote in one’s hands, and control the car (remotely). What the director of the commercial asked me to do was get down and move the car around with my hand, the same as any non-remotely controlled car, which was dumb. Also dumb, I was making car noises as I moved it back and forth, but the sound was cut out for the commercial, so I just look like I’m having some kind of episode while playing with a toy in the wrong way. Not exactly flattering. But hey, I was on television, so that’s got to count for something.

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As the Dog Whisperer is to dogs, I am the same with sofas. I am the Sofa Whisperer.

It is a gift… and a curse. How can I help it if sofas, couches, and (as my grandmother called them) davenports just respond to me? I can’t. Let’s move on (unless you are me and you are currently stuck on a sofa).

tick%20and%20arthurI like to think of Arthur from “The Tick” as my arch-nemesis.

I love “The Tick”. Both the animated version and the one-season wonder that was the live-action version.

I just found out that Arthur from “The Tick” is a fictional character.

Of course, I knew that the cartoon wasn’t real, but they had a live-action version! Come on! That’s like false advertising or something! Next thing you know, they’ll be telling me that Batman isn’t real either (I’m referring to the live-action one, obviously).

I am now accepting applications for a new arch-nemesis.

Preferred status will be given to anyone that I think I can beat in a fight. What is the point of choosing someone who would obviously beat me?

800px-A_maglev_train_coming_out,_Pudong_International_Airport,_ShanghaiModern Maglev technology is based on my work with refridgerator magnets as a child.

True story. Well, kinda. As a kid, I was obsessed with magnets. There is something magical about the way they attract and repel each other. I even drew up plans for using magnets as a form of transportation, where the polarity could be alternated quickly along a path, propelling the object suspended in air forward or backward in accordance with the orientation of the magnetic fields. And then I found out that something like what I was drawing already existed in the form of Maglev trains. Eh, I’m just going to go ahead and take credit anyway.