Clik here to view.
Lame Adventure 288: Monday Morning’s Mayhem
Following the tradition of reliable unpleasantness that is every Monday morning, this past Monday was no different. I was back at the workplace bleary-eyed and draggy-tailed doing what I had not...
View ArticleClik here to view.
Lame Adventure 322: Cake Chaos
Whenever someone’s birthday rolls around at my company we have a cake. In departments other than mine, where quantity steamrolls quality in appeal, it’s often a mammoth-sized confection of a dense...
View ArticleClik here to view.
Lame Adventure 324: Mother Nature Flips Me the Bird
Following another productive day of unwinding paperclips at The Grind, I exited the 72nd Street subway station at 5:55 Tuesday evening. I looked up at the temperature on the Apple Bank digital clock...
View ArticleClik here to view.
Lame Adventure 328: Hanging Around
Can you believe it? Michael Phelps has a record nineteen Olympic medals and now that it’s August it’s been over four months since I first tackled the scintillating topic of tree bagging. For those of...
View ArticleClik here to view.
Lame Adventure 329: The Gift of Goat
As someone that suffers stage 4-level lactose intolerance, if I would dare nibble on a sumptuous ripe Brie the after effects on my intestines would be as if I had swallowed a stick of lit dynamite...
View ArticleClik here to view.
Lame Adventure 398: The Million Dollar Migraine
In time for the holiday shopping season there’s an opportunity to own an authentic painting by Pablo Picasso worth one million dollars for $135. This is for a lottery that will be held December 18 in...
View ArticleClik here to view.
Lame Adventure 426: Am I Being Tested?
I admit that I will never be mistaken for someone who is conducting a passionate love affair with their day job. What I do is label tile, an occupation that is equal to tossing years of one’s life off...
View ArticleClik here to view.
Lame Adventure 440: Destructive Forces
When I was a scrawny kid standing barely four feet tall and weighing no more than forty pounds, my mother viewed me as a condensed package of pure trouble. She never wanted me near anything mechanical....
View Article
