Brought To You By the Voices In My Head

by pjmcbride

person holding string lights photo

Photo by David Cassolato on Pexels.com

…because I had a dream recently in which someone asked me to post again. Yes, that’s sad. No, I am not going to Make a Resolution To Post More Often, because you’ve heard it all before.

BUT YOU NEED TO KNOW–

–that the self-service kiosks at McDonald’s are full of poop bacteria! POOP!! Yet another reason not to use them. Of course, that was a very small study. Perhaps the customers on the West Side of Evansville are cleaner people. And while we’re on the subject, when the study came out saying that restroom hand dryers just blow poop bacteria (or “poopteria,” as scientists call it) back onto your hands, I expected to see them taken out of restaurants immediately, but so far I have been disappointed.

Speaking of germs, I am currently battling a cold. Well, perhaps “battling” is too strong a word, as it’s a very mild cold. Mild enough that I did not bother telling Nick, who took me to Canton Inn for my Christmas present. Actually, first he took me to the National Guard Armory, because he left his wallet in his office. He didn’t let me see his office, though.

A WORLD’S FIRST!!

After our meal, I said, “Time to find out about our futures in our fortune cookies!”

“Our future?” Nick said nervously. “You know you have to add ‘in bed’ to those.”

“Our respective futures, then,” I said.

I

got

an

actual

fortune.

“You will inherit an unexpected amount of money within the year.”

“Should I start sucking up, then?” said Nick, knowing I have no children (that I know of).

Notice they did not say a large amount of money. And they did say I’d inherit it, not win the lottery or find it on the street. Maybe Nick will die and leave me some. I bet he didn’t think of that. Whatever it is, it will happen within the year. I don’t know if that’s the calendar year or a year from today, but at this point they’re almost the same. I’ll keep you posted on my inheritance progress.

DID YOU KNOW?

Fortune cookie messages are not written by Chinese soothsayers, but by hack writers like me.

 

 

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