When The Demon was a little one and learning how to shit on a pot, she got in the habit of wiping, standing up and looking at her stools swirl around the bowl on the way to eternity, and saying, “Bye, caca!“

I picked up the habit and now do exactly the same thing…17 years later.

God, sick or what?

I don’t like opening letters without a letter opener. I have a few that I have yet to open because someone took my letter opener.

52. Sigh…

I’m watching Frederick March dance with Myrna Loy while Hoagy Carmichael plays the piano…and it’s making me cry.

Sigh…

51. I hate swinging.

I mean, the kind that’s done on swings…in a playground.

I’ve always hated swinging. For the past fifty-some years I’ve been pretending like it was ok, when I really just gives me a headache.

50. I can’t smell shit.

Not a colloquialism for not being able to smell. I literally can’t smell the odor of feces.

I had an unfortunate incident with MTBE many years ago…that left me totally unable to smell for about a year. As it gradually came back to me, my sense of smell was weird as was my sense of taste.

Anyway, since then I have been totally unable to smell crap.

I can go into the most horrid and odiferous of gas station toilets and smell nary a thing.

49. I can comfortably understand International Morse Code sent at 70 words per minute.

So?

48. I find people with dirty hands repulsive.

Not just common working dirty hands…but those like bums have…you know, with the dirt ground in along the length of the fingers and black under the finger nails.

Filth…

Let’s see:

1.I am nearsighted and have a turned left eye.
2. I was born with flat feet and wear orthodics my whole life.
3. While on vacation in Mexico, twice, I won two arm wrestling contests.
4. I have been in about five major auto accidents and walked away from all of them, except the automobile didn’t.
5. I have had only four best friends, the last one being my wife Diana, but you already knew that.
6. I beleive I have had about three ghostly encounters, two which I can remember, one I can not.

47. I used to be an alter boy.

Yeah, one of those kids wearing a dress and kissing some priest’s ass in church.

No, I never did get any head from one of ‘em. I guess I should have poured them a little more wine, eh?

46. The only colors I know and understand are the primary colors.

Mauve and beige and aqua marine and all that shit means absolutely nothing to me.