Smartass

So… Where Was I?

My last post was April of 2015.

However, after a number* of emails asking why I was not posting, how I was and other friendly reaching-out’s, I decided to return and try to engage what is undoubtedly a dedicated readership waiting with bated breath for me to speak directly to their souls via the written word.

After six days of observation, doctors at St. Agnes of Moorehead chalked up Doris as having an acute case of “stummy ache”. What doctors didn’t realize was that Doris was having withdrawal symptoms resulting from not having a B.L.O.G fix in what felt like years. Also, she was addicted to morphine.

I am aware that much has changed with many of my readers, some good and some bad.

The latter is no doubt a direct result of my not posting (or so I assume). First, some have stopped posting on their own blogs and have moved on to living in the real world where human interactions take place in-person and involve things called conversation or emotional connections. To them, I say good luck. I don’t believe for one second that any sort of real world living will ever take the place of the internet, however, I wish them luck in their valiant (although misguided and ill-advised) attempts.

Next, some readers have maintained their blog and continue to showcase their talents to the world, while others have continued to showcase their lack of talent to that very same world. Either way, I applaud you (or I would if I weren’t scratching a bug bite with my right hand, at this very moment). For the rest of my once loyal readership, the ending of their saga can be summed up with these simple words: Lost, At, Sea, Aboard, Inflatable, Party, and Boat. I’ll miss all of you. Well, most of you. Okay, two of you.

So, anyway, back to me. 

At this point, no doubt many of you have questions: What have I been doing since walking away from this blog? Why am I even subscribed to this blog? What time is the game? Is my kid on drugs? Does this smell like mildew? Whoa, whoa, slow down!

Truth be told, I went back to school. After many years, I finally returned to academia in pursuit of a BS in Communication, which I finally accomplished just a few weeks ago. In the past year and a half, the vast majority of my writing has been academic, well-researched, extensive papers, each of which had an audience of a single professor. In the past year and a half, I have written research papers nearly every weekend and in the most boring format possible: APA. To never write in APA format again is one of the things that drove me to graduate. So, FU, APA, you SOB. You are overly-complicated and, frankly, too stringent.

When asked to spell APA, Angela accurately wrote: S-T-U-P-I-D for which she received an A.
When asked to spell APA, Angela accurately wrote S-T-U-P-I-D for which she received an A.

As a service to my remaining readers, I have arranged for a Q&A with M-E. I invited several reporters to ask the questions I’m sure most of you have. The excerpts from the conference appear below:

ME: Thank you all for coming. My name is Mike and I am happy to answer any of your questions. So, who’s first? Yes, Gary. What’s your question?

REPORTER 1: My question is a two-parter. Um, who are you and why should we care?

ME: I am nobody and you shouldn’t. Yes, Ellen.

REPORTER 2: Because the internet has such a short-term memory, do you expect anyone to actually read your blog?

ME: I’ll be frank, Ellen. I never expected anyone to read to begin with, so if nobody reads now, I will continue to meet my own initial expectations. And, for that, I am grateful for the ego boost I receive from being right. Next question. Andre?

REPORTER 3: Since you last wrote something on your stupi– er, blog, what would you say have been the biggest changes you’ve undergone?

ME: Great question. Well, furthering my education and beginning a new career are definitely big changes, but I suppose the biggest change in my life has been increasing my powerful abilities of telekinesis. I have moved from manipulating clouds to raising and lowering straws to causing the intestines of my enemies to dissolve. The screaming they all do,… haha. It’s so cute, but predictable. People are people, am I right?

Rather than attend Mike Calahan's press conference, a seasoned journalist considers swimming to his doom.
Rather than attend Mike Calahan’s press conference, a seasoned journalist considers filling his pockets with rocks and wading out to his doom.

REPORTER 4: I read a story about the guy with the thing that did that stuff somewhere in Kansas or Missouri or Six Flags. Did you have anything to do with that?

ME: What did I tell you about that question? Huh? I told you not to ask me about that, Alan. Didn’t I? Your ‘gotcha’ questions aren’t gonna work on me, Alan. Security! Security, take this man out of the building. Yes, I realize we’re outdoors at a picnic table at a public park, but you know what I mean. Escort him out!

REPORTER 1: Escort? Wait, are you saying that Alan is an escort?

ME: I have no comment.

REPORTER 2: Are you Alan’s pimp?

ME: I have no comment. I will not answer anymore questions about Alan. In fact, if there are no more questions, I will provide you with a series of prepared answers for which you can work into questions you come up with on the drive home. <CLEARS THROAT> In no particular order, my answers are as follows:

Yes, mostly.

Just the one time. And then seven more times. But that’s it.

I don’t understand the question.

1952.

Those were international waters, so it doesn’t count.

The guy that played Potsy on Happy Days.

Gluten-free bread.

There was never a blood test,  so no.

It’s a markup language used for structuring and presenting content, and the most current version of the HTML standard.

I should clarify. I did not drink any shakes, I had the shakes.

Alvin and the Chipmunks: The Road Chip. 

Yes, with hot pokers.

Cashew milk ice cream.

Latitude: 37.235808 and Longitude: -121.962375

Mostly light brown, but some reddish brown.

Five cards of sequential rank, but not all of the same suit.

Suavecito as a base, Valentino as a top coat.

Gummo Marx.

Monday – Friday  6:00am – 6:00pm.  Saturday 7:30am – 3:00pm. Sunday 8:00am – 1:00pm.

<APPLAUSE>

Kristen, 24, could feel herself age six months for each word spoken by Mike Calahan.
For each sentence Mike spoke, Kristen Hoplin, 24, of the St. Louis Courier, could feel herself age six months .

– – – 

With that, I hope I have shined some light onto the burning questions you’ve all had. If anyone other than my wife reads this, I’ll be pleasantly surprised.

If any of you have any actual questions or comments, please post them in the comment section and I promise I will respond.

 

* The actual number was 0. Screw all of you.

30 thoughts on “So… Where Was I?”

    1. Funny story, Ross. I was dead. Of course, nobody (including myself) realized it for several weeks, until we read my obituary in the newspaper. By then, it was too late to commit to the whole corpse thing as I had bought advance tickets to a movie. We ended up burying an empty casket. C’est la vie.

      Thanks for stopping by, Ross. 🙂

      Liked by 1 person

  1. At first, I thought I had a wicked eyelash in my eye, but then I realized that you’ve published a post. That’s actually a little less painful. Kristen Hoplin must have several sisters, if not clones. At this stage of decrepitude, she’s what I rank romantically now. Thanks for the painful reminder, I mean post. Congratulations on earning the degree.

    Like

    1. First of all, thanks!

      To answer your question, I sincerely hope so. That’s the plan, anyway. I have several posts hopping through my brain alongside useless entertainment trivia and names of local birds.

      Liked by 1 person

  2. Is this really happening right now? I mean, I’ve drempt of you coming back, but then I usually wake up with my leg over the dog (He sleeps on the floor now. His choice…) Either way, like Ross said, I would see your Gravitar pop up from time to time and was always glad to know (1) you were still alive and (2) you clearly haven’t aged a day since April 2015. It’s very good to see you back, Mike. Your wit and bent perspective have been missed. Seriously, welcome back!

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thanks, Ned. 🙂 I mean, I was really hoping you would miss my bent wit, but bent perspective is cool, too, I guess. Wait, are you saying that I’m slouching? You’ve got to tell me when that happens because I’m not always aware.

      Liked by 1 person

  3. You realize of course that Mr Trump will seize on your departure and subsequent return as the cause of every misspeak he’s made, further excoriating you as a Muslim Mexican who is responsible for the significant price increases in wall materials, Chinese imports, the Greek crisis, Brexit, and of course, the failure of the saffron dye he uses in his hair.

    I gleefully await your responses.

    Like

    1. I was worried this would come up. Well, to be honest, Guap, I have been submitting jokes and one-liners to the Trump campaign for several weeks. Unfortunately, these were taken as news snippets and used as confirmation of suspicion and myths. Oops.

      Like

  4. So we both took a break. Do you know how many people will find this suspicious?

    Yeah. Zero.

    By the way, I used all of those same answers to respond to my daughter’s questions today. If only you could see the look on her face…

    Liked by 1 person

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