I fly up to Copenhagen. I will spend the next week and a half solidifying my position as Jack's favourite uncle. I arrive at Copenhagen, and Richard is late coming to pick me up. When he
I wake up to see a garden gnome trying to lift my TV. "Lift with the knees," I admonish helpfully. He looks at me askance for a second. He then puts down the TV, turns to
I'm standing on the metro platform with a very big heavy parcel. As the train approaches, I have the following conversational with the man beside me. Me: Excuse me. Could you help me lift this big
It strikes me that I don't talk about God enough in my blog- seeing as He created the universe and everything in it, and I have the singular fortune of living in the apartment directly above
I'm having trouble getting my contact lens out. I play at it with my finger, rubbing my eyeball and trying to pinch it off. I move the lens a bit, and bubble it up. But I
I'm sitting on the tram on the way to work. I'm reading a short story by Truman Capote, and ignoring the people around me- they aren't important. A man come and asks
Here's an interesting half-conversation I heard as I was coming to work today. The conversant was an Irish woman on a pay phone, so please read this with a nice dutch accent. "I tell you,
The tram I am riding from Andel to Malestranske Namesti has stopped for a red light. Outside, I see a lady in an apron emerge from cake store and show a cake to a man who is waiting
