At first I don’t know what it is, but when I realize, then I smile.

The only problem is, neither my wife nor my daughter know what it is. I told them a surprise is coming on Sunday and Tuesday. But even I’m surprised because today is Saturday.

And not only that, but I am just coming back from picking up a cake for my daughter’s 5th birthday party with her friends and we have to leave in 45 minutes.

Even still, I look at the box with happiness. If it works out and is and does what I hope it will do, I think it could revolutionize our lives. 

I suspect my wife will scoff at first, but will soon see the madness to my method and love it. I don’t blame her for having a bit of a shield up, I sometimes shut down critical thinking and moonshot a lot of things. Sometimes I misfire, like with the bed tent (a cautionary tale for another time) but lots of other times my crazy ways wind up paying off in unexpected ways. 

I walk by the box in a bit of a hurry. I have to bring the cake in, bring in some drinks and also take Sky, my every present and faithful 15.5 year old super geriatric half pit. 

Then I can tackle the blue box. 

After I’ve done everything I have to do, I haul in the box. It’s smaller than I expected, but it’s heavier than I expected. I grunt a little, because of it’s weight it’s an awkward carry. 

I ask for scissors because I’m always using the “good” scissors to tear through boxed and almost always get in trouble for that. 

Kim brings me the scissors and says “What is that?”

My daughter is up and saying, “He said a surprise was coming!”

I know my daughter is won over already, she shares my kind of childlike enthusiasm for many of life’s simpler joys. She’s going to enjoy this and see the value as soon as it comes bursting out of the box. 

Kim, on the other hand, she may take some convincing. 

I crack into the box, and it’s well packed. Inside is a big blob of grey vacuum sealed in plastic.

My daughter looks on in excitement. My wife looks on in amused horror. She knows this could literally be anything in this box and the chances of her predicting what it is are slim to none. 

“Is it my cake?” my daughter asks?

I tell her yes, it is your cake. This is obviously not true, but she goes along anyways.

I rip through several layers of plastic with my bare hands, like a jabronie tearing through a plate of buffalo wings on Super Bowl Sunday.

After I pull the plastic over the remaining corner, it does a little pop open. 

It’s almost like it is silently saying a little ta-da.

In slow motion it begins to take form, but is still wrinkly and needs to expand more.

It is a grey three seater. I’m posting pictures at the end. 

Our office has a bunch of these chairs and a loveseat that are super comfortable and great for working or relaxing. I found them on Amazon, and was recently alerted that they were on sale. 

So I pulled the trigger. 

I’m lucky in that my family is big on couches and couch like entities. We are all about couch thrills, the life philosophy that we can have an amazing time surfing our own couch. 

I have been having an amazing track record of couches up until the most recent one that sits idly in our living room. The one before it, which we got rid of most of we called The Sex Cult Couch. I had bought it when I was a batchelor but that is not the reason for the season. 

You see, Kim and I had been watching a documentary about the cult leader Keith Raniere, who is a flubby, goofy, volleyball loving cult leader who wound up sleeping with all of these women at the same time even though he appeared to most people outside of the cult to be a major schlub. And he’s talking about something in some raw footage and I jumped up.

That’s my couch!

Neither of us could believe our eyes. The schlubby volleyball villain and myself had the same taste in couches. Oof. 

Cut to the next scene, where I was sadly convinced to get rid of the cult couch and get a newer, longer more accommodating couch. 

At first I loved this new couch. It had multiple sections to it, which is always what I’m going for. I told Kim that we will always have a couch that can seat 15 people. 

But something wasn’t quite right. When we would watch a movie, our bodies intertwined, I would almost always tweak my neck or have a sore back.

After many body wrenching sessions on the couch, I realized the problem. I realized what the chubby bump set spike sex leader’s couch had that this one didn’t have. 

The seats were way wider then the current. We went from parachute pants of a couch to skinny jeans couch. In theory, the current skinny jeans couch looked good, but in experience it just didn’t have enough cushion. 

Cut to the present moment, a little three seater slowly growing to full strength. A nice wide seat, legs dangling comfortably on the floor. Perfect for movie nights together with the three of us and our faithful old pup Sky. The 3 of us can fit perfect, Sky is on her bed right next to us, but she’s too far away if she’s on her bed, or even on her blanketed spot on the couch. 

I know Sky loves being as close as possible to us, so this is a win in itself. 

And we all love being together, especially for our movie nights. This mini couch will revolutionize the way we get our couch thrills. The way we can enjoy a movie. I’ve moved it right in front of the tv, giving us a better view, and since we’re on the ground, we’re looking up so it feels more like being in the movie theater.

The other benefit is, if someone wants to sit on the couch and/or if we have a big scene over here watching TV, then we now have actual stadium seating. 

It’s only been out of the box for 3 minutes, and I explain all of this to them. They get it. I’ve just about won them over. 

Except. There’s just one catch. 

“I’m very happy you guys like this couch. Because I also have a loveseat and a one-seater coming.”

Sure, initial resistance, but just wait till these expandable sponge-based bits of heaven arrive scrunched up in their little blue boxes. 

You really gotta sit on it, to fully appreciate it. 

Here you go, you filthy animals. Grab one if you like. These words themselves were written on location.

Class up your sitting situation now – https://amzn.to/4r4vV33

NOTE: As an Amazon Associate I earn from qualifying purchases. The above Amazon link is an affiliate link. Make any purchases with that firmly in mind.

Everhart was sipping on a cup of coffee while scrolling down her Twitter feed. Out of nowhere someone tweeted something that was completely opposite of what Julie believed.

“Her eyes rolled into the back of her head, like she was possessed or something,” her husband Bill reported to authorities.

She immediately fired off 17 tweets informing the person with the opposing view that they were mistaken by calling him a “shithead” and “total dumbfuck.”

Her husband recounted the horrible experience, “She was sitting there thinking about what the guy said and trying to come up with another way of saying ‘complete fucking douche’ when her head swelled up like a watermelon and exploded everywhere.”

When authorities arrived, Everhart’s fingers were slowly tap tap tapping her blood-soaked phone in an attempt to retweet a photo of a friend’s dog.

Hillary Clinton’s Body Double During Better Times

In an interview last week, Chelsea Clinton said she’s never seen Hillary Clinton’s body double look so tired.

Chelsea went on to say she’s seen the body double looking sleepy at Clinton Foundation Fundraisers, on the campaign trail and even at her bedside while she delivered her last baby, but she’s never seen her as exhausted as she was during the 9/11 Memorial.

“It juste really feels like the body double is killing itself on the campaign trail while mom just relaxes at home and binge watches Stranger Things,” said Chelsea. “I’m starting to worry about my mom’s body double. I think it needs to take it easy for a few days before getting back out there.”

The body double said it had been under the weather for a few days but is definitely healthy enough to serve as the body double of the President of the United States, should Hillary win.

When reached for comment, Donald Trump has demanded that Hilary’s body double make all of it’s medical records available to the public immediately.

“Everything points to the theory of evolution being this real thing,” Noah explained. “So why go through all the trouble of gathering up every animal on the planet. Two of every animal. By the time I get around to doing that, the entire planet will look like a Wet ‘N Wild Water Park in February.”

“So I’m just gonna grab me a little amoeba from a lab or something and set sail. Once I find dry land, I’ll let the little guy loose and we’ll see what happens. It’ll be like hitting reset on those old Nintendo consoles. Either we’ll be back in the game or I’ll have to blow on it and try again.”

“I’m almost positive Darwin was right. I mean he put a lot of thought into it. A lot. He studied this thing up and down. So it should work.”

Noah said regardless of whether it works or not, he’ll bring the Hunger Games books to pass the time. He hasn’t seen the movies yet, for some reason he’s just not that big a fan of Jennifer Lawrence.

We caught up with him while walking his dog, Bucky, to clarify.

Captain America: Don’t you guys understand irony. I was being ironic. People are always saying to me, ‘Cap, you need to loosen up a little. Tells some jokes.’ And when I finally do, everyone acts like they have a giant red, white and blue shield up their butt.

See, that’s another joke.

Yeah, I said Hail Hydra. Sue me. Do you guys even understand how irony works? You say the opposite of what you really mean. So what I was really saying was ‘Unhail Hydra.’

I just really feel like irony is the humor form I’m most comfortable with. More than reversals, double entendres and parody. From time to time I do enjoy a good knock-knock joke. But who doesn’t?

While we spoke, his dog, Bucky, stopped to relieve himself on a bright yellow fire hydrant.

“Hail Hydrant!” Cap yelled out and giggled.

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I was cutting it kind of close, breakfast was closing in about 5 minutes. Just to be sure, the first thing I asked was if they were still serving breakfast.

“Yes, we are still serving breakfast,” said the pleasant voice through the speaker. “What can I get you?”

So far, so good or so I thought. Actually, this was the start of the McGriddle Incident.

“I’ll have #5, without cheese. And you can hold the drink. I don’t need the drink.”

Cheese should never be consumed in the same bite as a pancake-like McGriddle. That’s where I draw the line. Always hold the cheese on a McGriddle. This particular day, I also wanted the hash brown. So I wanted a meal but without the drink.

“I’m sorry sir, but we can’t do that. We have to charge you for the items separately, we can’t charge you the meal price if you’re not getting the drink.”

“So, what you’re saying is, you’re going to charge me more money for less stuff? Does that sound like it makes sense.”?

“I’m sorry sir, I have to charge you for each item separately if you’re not getting a drink.”

“Why don’t you make me a nice cup of orange juice and I’ll give it to you. It’s on me.”

“Sorry, sir I can’t do that. It’s against our policy to accept gifts from customers.”

“You’re kidding me, this is a joke, right?”

“No sir. Would you like to speak to my manager?”

We went back and forth like this and probably after the 3rd time she asked me if I wanted to speak to her manager it dawned on that this was a ridiculous waste of time and energy. It wasn’t the savings on money, it was the violation of logic, the idea that I was going to be charged more for less that was driving me slightly mad. In the end though, I decided we were getting nowhere and to let it go.

“Ok, whatever the price is, whatever you have to charge me, it’s ok. It’s not a big deal, it just seems kind of silly. I’ll take the Bacon, Egg & Cheese McGriddle without Cheese and a Hash Brown. Thank you.”

“Sir, I’m sorry, but we are no longer serving breakfast. We are now serving lunch. Is there anything from the lunch menu I can get you?”

Photo Credit:
Eli Hodapp
David McKelvey