I’m single and — let’s face it — not getting any younger. I might put my pants on one awesome leg at a time, but I’ve been making that old man sound when I get up from a chair for over a decade now. The words, “those darn teenage drivers” have crossed my lips many, many times. And on a lot of days, I fantasize about leaving work early, going home and taking a nap.

Since this website receives several handfuls of visitors each day, I thought it might be a good idea to take advantage of its popularity and showcase myself to the single ladies of cyberspace.

Single ladies, this is for you. Married ladies, prepare to set me up with single friends, nieces or daughters. Single men of the world, take notes and learn. It’s time for an online personal ad — Special Kind of Stupid style.

Hello ladies,

How are all of you doing this fine day?

Me? Well, honestly, I have been better. You see, there’s something missing in my life. And until recently, I could never quite put my finger on what it was despite the abundance of clues.

My mom having to hold back tears whenever someone asked her if I was seeing someone was one clue.

Another clue was the young children at the grocery store who kept asking their moms, “Mommy, why is that man buying groceries by himself? Is he not married? Does he have problems with commitment?”

However, the biggest clue came to me during a recent trip to Atlanta. While I was stuck in traffic, I glanced over and noticed the express lane moving super fast.

“If I was married or had a girlfriend,” I thought to myself, “I could be in that lane.”

And so, it finally dawned on me what was missing in my life.

I am still single.

So, now that I’ve figured out what is missing, the rest should be a piece of cake. Right?

Well, unfortunately, finding Miss Right isn’t easy. In fact, the search for her is much like driving with a blindfold on.

Oh sure, you end up running into lots of women. A few of these women might even show promise. But most end up having red flags like, “I don’t want children” or “I don’t believe in God” or “you maniac…you hit me with your car…I’m suing you.”

Despite my lack of success, I keep looking. It’s all I can do, really. Somewhere out there is the girl God created just for me.

The girl who won’t mind that, with one lone exception, I’ve never had a relationship last longer than three months. The girl who will recognize this not as my having a problem with commitment, but as evidence I haven’t had the best luck picking partners with whom I’m compatible.

The girl who will view my frugality, my habit of saving and my goal to always be wise with money not as a Scrooge-ish character trait, but as evidence she and I will never have to worry about the financial issues so common with most couples.

The girl who will understand that despite the fact I have a good sense of humor and can seem outgoing when I’m with people I know, I’m really laid back and borderline shy. The girl who will be flattered by the fact that I’m not as “at ease” with just anyone like I am with her.

The girl who will recognize the fact I am really close with my family is a good thing. The girl who will recognize this bodes well for our future family.

The girl who knows my having a graduate degree and teaching background doesn’t mean I’m an intellectual snob, but means — combined with my work ethic — I will always be employable.

The girl who doesn’t believe “good manners” is something from a different era. The girl who believes the fact I haven’t used profanity sine 1996, the fact I still say “please” and “thank you” (as well as yes sir, no sir, yes ma’am, no ma’am), and the fact I hold doors open for people of all ages and genders as reason to be admired rather than mocked.

The girl who makes it a point to always have my back. The girl who appreciates the fact I will always have her back.

The girl who realizes “selfless” is a real word and not just the misspelling of the word “selfish.”

The girl who understands the expression “nice guys finish last” was coined by a nice guy who just happened to be a loser. The girl who knows there is at least one nice guy out there who makes it a point to win as much as possible.

I could go on, but my eyes are beginning to glaze over.

Is there a girl like this out there? Does someone out there possess these qualities, plus the ones I did not mention?

I hope so.

All I can do is keep looking for her. Maybe today will be my lucky day.

It’s almost time to go home. It’s almost time to put on my blindfold and hit the road.

If I’m lucky, maybe Miss Right will be jaywalking.

To read the back story for this silly blog post, go here.

With tornado warnings all over town and multiple tornadoes actually touching down in neighboring cities, it makes a man stop and think…

What am I thinking about? I’m thinking that God is truly amazing. I mean, He’s amazing for obvious reasons, of course. But beyond that…even with all He has going on, He still takes the time to help me with my writer’s block.

Even if I somehow survive these tornadoes, the odds are pretty good that I will move on to Heaven one day of these days. With that in mind, it’s best to be prepared. And so, I will make out a living will here at SKOS. In addition to giving me good blogging material, this will make sure I have a living will in place if I was to actually — you know — suddenly stop being so awesome (i.e. die) someday.

If that’s not killing two birds with one stone, I don’t know what is.

Science

To Science, I leave my body.

I don’t know why my immune system is wicked awesome. It’s just always been that way. Run your experiments. Discover what made me tick. Perhaps the cure for the common cold is inside me? Perhaps my blood or saliva can cure stupidity?

It’s up to you to find out, Science. I have faith in you (even though I don’t believe in many of the things you state to be fact). Make me proud, buddy.

Denis

To Denis, my psychotic roommate in college, I leave the electric razor I borrowed from my brother last week.

This probably seems odd since, one, we haven’t talked to each other in over a decade and, two, we hated each other’s guts. However, I owe you.

Remember how you used to get up and use your incredibly loud electric razor at 6:00 every morning even though you didn’t have anywhere to be until 9:00? Remember how, instead of going to the bathroom down the hall to shave you did it right there in our dorm (approximately 5 yards from where I slept)? Remember how, one day, your razor inexplicably stopped working?

Yeah, that was me. I broke it.

Angi

To Angi, I leave my cat, Smokey.

Since you’re a cat lover with two of your own, I know you will give Smokey a good home. However, do be careful not to neglect your other cats once you have him. This will be hard, I know, because of how awesome he is.

Lauren

To Lauren, I leave my single pair of tapered jeans and my black dress boots.

Yes, I know you hated them. I just think you might find it really, really funny to receive in the mail — a few weeks after I pass — a package with my jeans and boots inside. It will remind you of my odd sense of humor.

I don’t expect you to keep them, of course. You may burn them.

My Stalker

To my stalker, I leave the ants you planted in my car, bedroom and shower.

Look, we’ve been through this before. I know, for whatever reason, you hold ants in high regard. To you, giving someone ants is like giving someone flowers or an autographed photo of Jennifer Connelly. I don’t share this opinion with you, but whatever…I’m dead, so what does it matter at this point.

Since you obviously DO think so highly of ants, I can’t think of anyone else who would appreciate the ants that are currently haunting me everywhere I go. Take them and do whatever it is you do with them (when you’re not giving them to people you stalk).

Erin

To Erin, I leave all the bug spray I own and a photograph of my tapered jeans.

I know how much you hate spiders. If I could, I would take all the spiders of the world with me. However, I’m pretty sure the Big Man Upstairs won’t allow it. So, giving you all my bug spray is the next best thing.

And since I’ve already given away the tapered jeans you desire, I figure giving you a photograph of them is the next best thing. For $5, I’ll wear the jeans in the photograph. I must warn you, though: it’s probably not a pretty sight.

Kathy

To Kathy, I leave my #1 Dad coffee mug.

Yes, I am giving you the ultimate conversation piece. To say your friends will be jealous is a gigantic understatement. Your friends will probably turn against you because of it. They will want the coffee mug for themselves. Arm yourself, Kathy. Trust no one.

Owning the #1 Dad coffee mug is a blessing…and a curse.

Jenny

To Jenny, I leave the eye patch I wore to a costume party last New Year’s Eve.

I know how much you adore Johnny Depp. Short of giving you my Pirates of the Caribbean DVD (which I will take with me to my grave), an eye patch seemed like the next best thing.

This list will grow over the next few days as I have more time to work on it and as I think of more people to include.

Do YOU want to be included in my will? If so, leave me a comment or two or ten and give me a compelling reason.

For a little over two weeks now, my left ear hasn’t been right. I attributed it to allergies, which I get from time to time, but in recent days I’ve become worried it might be an inner-ear infection. Yesterday, a friend researched my symptoms at WebMD. What did she discover? I have Swimmer’s Ear.

I had never before considered Swimmer’s Ear as my ailment for one simple, logical reason: I don’t swim. To give you an idea how long it’s been since I last swam:

• Tom Cruise hadn’t yet gone insane.
• The rapper Bow Wow was still known as “Lil Bow Wow.”
• Bill Clinton hadn’t yet pondered the true meaning of the word “is.”
• No one had ever heard of Paris Hilton, and ignorance truly was bliss.

However, just like you don’t have to play tennis to get Tennis Elbow, be an athlete to get Athlete’s Foot, or be named Lou Gehrig to get Lou Gehrig’s Disease; apparently you don’t have to be a swimmer in order to get Swimmer’s Ear.

Who knew?

[Begin Segue Sequence]

For this week’s Friday Four, I am going to list four diseases or ailments that would really shock me if I got them. That’s right, today I am going all medical on your gluteus maximuses. Read and learn, people.

One

Chickenpox

I came down with Chickenpox when I was in the third grade, and according to WebMD people who have had it “almost always” develop a lifetime immunity.

The “almost always” caveat worries me a little bit, but I still would be shocked if I woke up one day and discovered I had Chickenpox. Geesh, I’m starting to itch just thinking about it…

Two

A STD

Unless it’s possible to get a sexually transmitted disease by a toilet seat, shaking someone’s hand, or having to see Lindsey Lohan on the cover of a magazine at the grocery store; I am safe.

Of course, if it IS possible get it from magazine covers and the like, I’m afraid the numerous Christina Aguilera music videos over the years have already infected most of society.

Three

Morning Sickness

For reasons hopefully obvious to anyone who knows I am a guy, it would REALLY shock me if a doctor told me I was suffering from morning sickness.

Of course, if I do ever get it, I’ll make the best of the situation. I could eat all I want and not have to worry gaining weight. Silver lining, people. Silver lining.

Four

Pink Eye

As a straight male, I dislike the color pink. My body knows this. So, if I was to ever come down with Pink Eye, it would really surprise me.

What would be next? My foot beginning to tap on its own when an Abba or Clay Aiken song plays on the radio? My hair growing blond highlights all on its own? The words “that is so fabulous” leaving my mouth whenever something good happens?

And there you have it. Four ailments or diseases that would really, really surprise me if I ever came down with them.

So, what disease or ailment would it really shock YOU to have? If that topic doesn’t strike your fancy (Wait, did I just say strike your fancy? That is so not fabulous), what are some tips for Swimmer’s Ear? WebMD suggests putting warm saline solution or a vinegar-water mixture into your ear. Does that sound right, or has WebMD been smokin’ the ganja?

As always, please feel free to leave a comment or two or ten.

The following is a guest post from Angi. You might remember her from one of the million comments she’s left at SKOS, or from the epic A 2,063 Word Interview with Angi. Or, maybe you saw her in the video for the Macarena. Be sure to check out her great blog, We Sleep for Dreaming.

As some of you may know, I work in the medical billing profession. It’s nothing exciting, really. My day consists of charges, deposits, calling insurance companies, sending appeals, sending out statements to patients…and fending off nasty phone calls and letters from those same patients who don’t feel they should have to pay their bills.

Case and point: This morning, I was doing a deposit for the pediatrics clinic that I am responsible for. Things were going as normal, I was having fun with the “clickclickclick whirrrrr clickclickclick whirrrrr” of my adding machine while totaling up the number of patient checks we had received in the mail. All of a sudden, a handwritten note on one of the statements caught my eye. It read as follows.

“Nice. How long have we been going to [pediatrics clinic]?? How much do we pay annually already? And then you threaten us with collections over a $45.60 balance?? Bad form.”

Let me clarify the situation at hand. When a patient has a balance with this clinic, we send them a statement once a month, reflecting the most current balance, until their account is paid off. After 60 days with no payment, we send them a letter informing them that we have attempted sending them statements, but have not received payment; and whether it is an error on their part or an error on our part, please send in payment as soon as possible.

After another 30 days, if we still have not received any payment at all, we will send another letter – but we also keep sending statements once a month. We also send 3 letters before we send a patient to collections. So, from the time the patient accrues that original balance on their account to the time they are sent to collections, they should have received 5 statements and 3 letters asking them to please pay their bill.

So, when this woman wrote her nice, friendly note on her bill, she had only received her second notice – which means she has received 4 statements and 2 letters. That’s SIX FORMS OF CORRESPONDENCE asking her to please take care of her bill (and it wasn’t even a large bill – I’ve sent out statements for literally hundreds of dollars before, so excuse me if I have no sympathy for her, having to pay all of $45.60).

I am used to nasty phone calls. I am used to nasty letters. What I will never get used to, however, is the entitlement so many people feel when it comes to their money. “How much do we pay annually already?” Excuse me? In what alternate universe is that a viable reason to not have to pay what you owe someone?

“How long have I been shopping at XYZ Grocery? I feel I should get my groceries for free today.”

“How many gallons of gas do I buy already for my Escalade? I feel I shouldn’t have to pay my gas bill this month.”

“How much shampoo have I used in my lifetime? I don’t feel I should have to give Target any money this time around.”

And then…when those people inevitably ignore their bills, hoping that the doctor/billing office/store/gas station will write off their balance…they end up getting sent to collections over measly balances owed, ruining their credit, and feeling like the world that is out to get them has, once again, been unjust.

What these people don’t know is, we behind the scenes have no sympathy. We laugh at you. If nothing else, you make our boring, mundane jobs a little more entertaining. Contrary to popular belief, nasty letters don’t make us shake in our swivel chairs or crumple into sobbing messes on our desks.

So. The moral of the story, kids? Pay your bills. Pay them on time. Don’t be idiots.

For the most part, I think I have an excellent track record for giving advice to people.

For example, in college, I suggested a friend think long and hard before asking “Sarah” out on a date. Her large hands, size 14 shoes, gigantic Adam’s Apple, and tendency to occasionally call herself “Jeff” were red flags I thought he needed to consider.

I wish I could say my friend heeded the advice. However, on the bright side, I was able to tell him “I told you so” over and over while he hid under my kitchen table and sobbed uncontrollably for 12 straight weeks.

Anyway, even with my excellent track record, I do occasionally slip up and give bad advice. A recent example involves my recommending a web hosting provider to three friends of mine.

Josh at The Smoake House, Melissa at For Cheap Sake, and Angi at We Sleep for Dreaming are all using JustFree.com as their web host.

Why?

Because they foolishly listened to me when I recommended JustFree to them.

Sadly, for the past few weeks, JustFree has been about as reliable as a garbage bag being used as a bulletproof vest. It’s been going down everyday — sometimes for several hours.

Why did I recommend JustFree, you might ask?

Well, once upon a time they were very reliable. I used them myself for almost a year before switching to a paid web host. Until recently, I viewed them as the perfect “starter” host for a blog wanting to graduate from Blogger or WordPress.

Needless to say, I feel bad. This is all my fault. I’m currently researching alternative hosting options for all three of them. Of course, if they’re smart, they probably won’t listen to me again.

Sigh.

I almost feel as bad as the time I told my friend to give “Sarah” another chance. The poor fool thought I was being serious.

What’s some bad advice YOU have given to people? Did they ever forgive you? Also, does anyone recommend a good, preferably free, web host that can support WordPress? As always, please feel free to leave a comment or two or ten.

Some news headlines immediately capture your attention.

Some capture your attention because they are painfully obvious (Example: Fast Food, Fat Children). Some capture your attention because they make your home state sound moronic (Example: Georgia Men Claim Hairy, Frozen Corpse is Bigfoot). And others capture your attention because they’re about something you have been praying for as long as you can remember (Example: Paris Hilton Sentenced to 45 Days in Jail).

And then there are the news headlines so ridiculous they actually make you spit your beverage onto the poor co-worker sitting next to you.

Such a headline greeted me this morning:

Avril Lavigne ‘Too Sexy’ (story)

Too what now?

These words, arranged in this manner, do not register in my brain.

Okay, let’s back up a little. Apparently, Miss Lavigne is set to have a concert soon in Malaysia. And how does that make the people of Malaysia feel? Not good, apparently.

“It’s not good for viewers in Malaysia,” said Kamarulzaman Mohamed, a party official. “We don’t want our people, our teenagers, influenced by their performance. We want clean artists, artists that are good role models.”

Okay, at this point, I am 100% on board with Malaysia’s message. Avril Lavigne’s music stinks. Right on, Malaysia. Right on!

But then they lost me.

“It (her on-stage performance) is considered too sexy for us,” said Mohamed.

Come again?

If you want to say Miss Lavigne’s stage moves are too “adult” or “provocative,” that’s one thing. However, in my mind, “sexy” implies something else – something I do not get in the slightest.

I am sure, to some out there, Avril Lavigne might be considered sexy. However, to me, the words “Avril Lavigne” and “sexy” go together about as well as “Clay Aiken” and “straight.”

Allow to briefly list things I believe to be sexier than Avril Lavigne:

My stapler
Post-it notes
Computer monitors
Pencils
Keyboards
Speakers

(To those wondering if I am simply naming off items that are nearby, the answer is yes. Yes I am.)

Carpet
Cell phones
Napkins from Subway
The back of my hands
My desk
Dust
My John Smoltz bobblehead

I don’t write this to be mean. I’m sure there are men out there who believe she is the greatest thing since the invention of Casual Fridays. To them I say, keep on truckin’, buddy. But me, personally, I just don’t see it.

(A quick trip to the restroom has given me more things to add to my list.)

Urinal cakes
Hand soap
Running water
Paper towels
My reflection in the mirror
My hands covered in hand soap

I’m pretty sure I will come across more things to add to this list on my commute home. Stay tuned.

(Yep. Yep, I did.)

Blue station wagons
Stop signs
Drivers who think you can’t see them picking their nose
Green station wagons
Drivers who think you can’t see them singing
Roadkill

So, what do all of you think? Is there a celebrity most people consider attractive with which you totally and completely disagree? Personally, I would add Kate Beckinsale, Anna Faris and Angelina Jolie to this list. How about YOU? As always, feel free to leave a comment or two or ten.

Today, boys and girls, I’m going to tell you the story of The Sad Little Blog.

Once upon a time, there was a blog who had lots of visitors. These visitors would leave all sorts of wonderful comments. The blog loved having so many friends. It made him so very happy.

Every day, the blog would skip to work. He would sing “la la la” the entire way. If he came across a bug on the sidewalk, he would grant the bug a quick, merciful death. If a hobo asked the blog for spare change, he would smile as he skipped on by without saying a word.

But then, one day, inexplicably, the visitors stopped visiting. The blog was suddenly alone. This made him so very sad.

“Where did all my friends go,” the blog wondered as he curled into a ball in the corner of his bedroom and sobbed uncontrollably.

The blog stopped eating. He stopped sleeping. His hopes and dreams were replaced by sadness and despair. He stopped showering, shaving or cleaning his ears. The blog had reached bottom.

That’s when he decided to make everyone pay for shunning him!

…TO BE CONTINUED…

Wasn’t that an exciting story, boys and girls? And it makes an excellent segue into this week’s Friday Four!

For this week’s Friday Four, I am going to list four possible reasons SKOS has begun to resemble the shopping mall in your hometown that everyone used to visit before they built the new one.

One

I Have Lost My Mojo

Personally, I don’t think I’ve written anything funny or interesting since sometime in 2006, but I digress.

Writer’s block happens to the best of us. It’s entirely possible my writing hasn’t been up to snuff lately. I mean, did anyone read my Dear Moms of the World… post and NOT think it was a desperate attempt to be liked?

It’s certainly clear I’m having difficulty thinking of ideas since I’ve re-posted two posts from my archives (The Shower Bandit and Prince Attacked, Assailant Still at Large) in the past couple weeks and I’ve started a weekly Ask Kev blog series that reeks of mediocrity and sadness.

Maybe THIS is why people have started to shun me? Maybe I’ve lost the funny.

Two

Everyone Has Olympic Fever

Did you know the Summer Olympics are going on right now in China? I sure didn’t. I haven’t paid attention to the Olympics since Tonya Harding beat every competitor and judge with a crowbar at the 1992 games. I figured the Olympics could never top that, so why continue to watch.

But anyway, perhaps my readers are too busy watching the Olympics to visit SKOS? You’d like to think people would have their priorities in proper order, but not everyone does.

Three

People are Afraid I Might Interview Them

After my ridiculously long interview with Angi, it’s possible the rest of my readers went into hiding.

Upon witnessing the hard-hitting questions I tend to ask (Example: “Capri pants. Thumbs up or thumbs down?”), no one else was willing to endure the same kind of abuse. And so, they stopped visiting.

Four

Internet Privileges Revoked

Since approximately 94% of my readers are criminals, Internet access can be a sporadic thing. Those readers on the run from the law might be at a safe house without Internet access. Readers recently arrested might not be able to get their daily SKOS fix while standing trial. And it’s quite possible some readers currently in prison have had their Internet privileges revoked for laughing too hard.

Add all that up and a huge chunk of my readership is MIA.

And there you have it. Four theories attempting to explain what the heck happened to all my readers.

So, what do YOU think happened to my readers? I’m asking, of course, the two of you still here. What are your theories? Let’s discuss this amongst ourselves, shall we?

Partly due to the fact I think it’s a neat idea and mostly due to the fact I think I ran out of original blog post ideas way back in November of 2007, I present to you all a new feature here at SKOS: Ask Kev.

Since no one in their right mind would actually ask ME an important question, I am going to steal questions submitted to various advice columnists. I’m sorry, did I say steal? I meant borrow. Yes, that’s it. Borrow.

Today, I’m borrowing a question recently sent to the famous Dear Abby.

DEAR ABBY KEV:

I am a high school teacher who has been encountering some problems with my students.

I know I should enforce discipline, but I don’t seem to have any control over my students. They blatantly ridicule my clothing and my voice. Sometimes I even feel bullied. I try to ignore it, but it doesn’t seem to end. The entire class participates and finds it hilarious. What can I do to control my students?

- TRYING HARD IN TENNESSEE

Dear Trying Hard in Tennessee (THIT),

I couldn’t help but notice the lame advice Abby gave you. Talk to other educators? Take some assertiveness training classes? Come on, Abby. You’re better than that. If someone wrote you asking for a good recipe for meatloaf, would you tell him or her to take a cooking class? Or would you give the person a good recipe?

Brace yourself, THIT. I’m about to give you a good recipe.

A Scary Teacher is a Respected Teacher

I taught high school for three years. I feel your pain, my friend. There are many wonderful, good students in the world. And then there are the others. The ones who should be spanked daily by their parents. The ones whose parents should be slapped in the face daily by every member of society.

There is a widely-circulated piece of advice given to new teachers: make an example of a misbehaving student on your first day. By starting out tough, the theory goes, you’re showing any potential “problem” students that you mean business.

With the new school year about to begin, I HIGHLY recommend this advice, THIT. If the school year has already started, this will make your job harder, but implement this strategy anyway. Show the students you are a teacher not to be trifled with and they will refrain from trifling you. And if they DO trifle with you, make them pay!

What you can get away with depends on where you teach, but here are some general tips to show students you mean business:

• Offer chewing gum to everyone in the class. Once the gum has been handed out, begin yelling at the students and tell them gum isn’t allowed in your classroom. They’ll think you’re crazy, which is important when it comes to controlling a classroom.
• If someone talks without permission, shoot a rubber band at their head. Why a rubber band? Because throwing a pencil could injure someone. You don’t want to get into trouble, do you?
• Write “I once shot a man in Reno just to watch him die” on the chalkboard or whiteboard at the front of the classroom. Write it in big letters. Leave it up all school year, but never make mention of it. Being mysterious works when dating, and it works when trying to keep students guessing as to whether or not you’re pyscho.
• Every ten minutes or so, open up one of the drawers to your desk. Look into it and begin having a whispered conversation with someone or something living inside it. Close the drawer and go back to your job.
• Place police tape around one of the desks/chairs in your classroom. When students ask about it say, “Oh. That? That’s nothing. Sometimes I just don’t know my own strength.”

You get the idea. Want your students to stop ridiculing your clothing and your voice? Convince them that doing so could set off a raging lunatic!

(Or, if you want real, SERIOUS advice, check out this other post of mine.)

Good luck, THIT. You’ll do great. I just know it.

That’s when I thought to myself, “it must be the shower bandit!”
- John the Moron

For a variety of reasons, I did not enjoy the experience of living in a college dorm. My psychotic roommate was one reason, but the following idiotic story is another.

During my freshman year, the male dorms at my college were being terrorized by someone dubbed “The Shower Bandit.” The bandit, a guy, would sneak into the community showers, sneak a peek, and then run away. The college newspaper would actually report “bandit” sightings on campus. Some said he was simply an urban legend. Personally, I thought the odds were pretty good the bandit and my roommate were one and the same, but that’s a story for another time.

Then one day the shower bandit was caught. By the grace of God, I was visiting home the weekend it happened. I say this because the events surrounding his capture took place in the hallway of my dorm, approximately twenty yards from my room. The Monday morning after I returned, I picked up the day’s edition of our college newspaper. There, on the front page no less, was the story detailing the bandit’s capture.

It was the most ridiculous story I have ever read in my life.

A guy who lived down the hall from me, let’s call him John, was taking a shower. In the newspaper story, John explains that everything was proceeding as usual when he heard someone enter the bathroom. At first, John said, he didn’t think anything of it. It was probably just one of the other fifty guys that share this bathroom.

However, about a minute later, John explains that someone brushed up against his shower curtain. A few seconds later, the person left the bathroom. Quick on his feet, John came to the only logical conclusion one could make it such a situation:

“That’s when I thought to myself,” John was quoted as saying, “it must be the shower bandit!”

John did not waste any time.

The newspaper story says he hopped out of the shower and ran outside to confront the stranger. That’s right, John was much too determined to bother with something as simple as putting on a towel to cover himself. He had much more important things to worry about. Once in the hallway, John saw a guy walking in the opposite direction. Was this even the same guy? Maybe. Who knows.

John ran right up to the stranger and began yelling at him. In between yells, John asked him what he was doing. The stranger responded that he was visiting a friend. In the newspaper story, John then pointed out how nervous the guy was acting. You think, John? If I was walking along minding my own business when a wet, naked guy came running up and yelled at me, I might act nervous, too.

John then asked the stranger who he was visiting, and the stranger responded by pointing to a door. It was John’s door. Despite the fact John shares his dorm with someone and the stranger could have been a friend of John’s roommate, John took this as proof he was the shower bandit. He began yelling, “it’s the shower bandit” over and over.

The stranger ran for the exit. It was a smart thing to do considering twenty guys had just bolted from their dorms, some of them carrying bats and golf clubs. A high-speed car chase then began. The stranger was chased all over campus by about ten different vehicles. He narrowly escaped, but not before someone had written down his license plate number.

The stranger was later arrested and put in a police lineup. The cops had a perfect witness. He was cool under pressure and didn’t possess even the slightest bit of modesty.

John was able to pick out the suspect right away. He told the newspaper it was easy because everyone in the lineup wore a t-shirt except for one guy who was wearing a polo shirt. John explained that the stranger he met in the hallway was wearing preppy clothes, and the only person in the police lineup dressed preppy was the guy in the polo shirt.

John was a moron.

Addendum:

There was something not mentioned in the newspaper article I’ve always wondered about. After “alerting the troops,” what was John doing during the high-speed chase?

I mean, he was naked, in the middle of the hallway, soaking wet. Twenty guys came running out of their dorms with bats, golf clubs and whatever blunt object they had handy. Did John just stand there admiring the chaos he started, or did he follow the mob?

If the latter, does that mean he was inside one of those cars? If yes, he couldn’t very well have been driving his own car because he had no keys on his person (or at least I hope he didn’t). That means he was a passenger in someone else’s car.

Which begs the question: What idiot allowed a wet, naked John to sit in his car?

The above is a slightly modified repost of a post that originally debuted at my old blog on July 13, 2005. It is completely, 100% true. And yes, that also makes it 100% sad.

This past weekend, I wrote a guest blog post for a friend of mine. It was hilarious.

However, I fear it might have tarnished my image. You see, I used this guest post as an opportunity to write about something I’ve long wanted to ridicule, but didn’t want to tackle here at SKOS due to its questionable content. Luckily, my friend also loathed the subject of my ridicule: Cosmo Magazine (and those like it).

So, why am I afraid ridiculing Cosmo has tarnished my image? Well, because people think I actually read the dirty thing. A few excerpts from my blog post:

To help give me insight into the minds of women, I decided to buy some girly magazines.

…

As luck would have it, the first magazine I looked at had the adorable Kristen Bell on the cover. It was a Cosmo magazine.

…

Two minutes later, my eyes began to bleed. What I found within those pages shook me to my very core.

…

Cosmo took the small, innocent boy within me outside behind the barn and shot him dead.

I’m not sure why it surprised me to discover people actually thought I read Cosmo. When you say you did something, people tend to believe you actually did it! People are funny like that.

Why does it matter? Because I don’t want people (i.e. moms of single girls) to think I’m not a nice guy!

Hear me now, good readers. I did not read Cosmo. My innocence was not shattered. As my friend Steve once wrote about me, what you read was simply another example of my “comedic persona.” When I write, I often make things up in order to be funny. However, behind it all is a nice guy who just sometimes doesn’t know how to control his own wit.

My open-letter to lazy parents telling them to teach their children proper etiquette wasn’t an example of my being condescending and boorish as much as it was a glance into how I was raised to behave. To this day, I still say please, thank you, yes sir, no sir, yes ma’am and no ma’am in everyday conversation. And I still hold doors open for people, regardless of age or gender.

My fake news story outlining how many Americans will complain about their financial situation one minute and then buy something they don’t need the next minute wasn’t mean spirited. It was simply a comedic way of expressing how I believe in frugality, budgeting, and avoiding impulse purchases. If you’re into those three things, economic recessions don’t tend to hurt as much.

When I wrote I actually look good when I sneeze I wasn’t being smug or vain. I was being self deprecating. Mind you, I don’t dislike how I look. But the only time my name and Brad Pitt’s name will REALLY be used in the same headline is if I punch him in the face for talking about Fight Club. And even then the headline would probably be something like, “Less Handsome Man Punches Brad Pitt for Being More Handsome.”

When I write about Keanu Reeves being a horrible actor or Paris Hilton being a prime example of what’s wrong with today’s society, it’s not because… Actually, those are bad examples. I totally believe Keanu Reeves is a bad actor and Paris Hilton is useless. Totally.

Finally, when I write a guest blog for another site that talks about how I read a Cosmo Magazine, it doesn’t mean I really read a Cosmo Magazine. It just means I used fiction in order to express my belief that magazines of that nature aren’t good for people (especially if said people are nice guys).

You all get the idea, I hope.

Kevin = Nice Guy

It’s math so simple, even Keanu and Paris can understand it.

It’s a little hard for me to believe, but I have been blogging now for a shade under 3 1/2 years.

It all began with a humble little Xanga site. Xanga begot a free WordPress blog, free WordPress blog begot a blog I opened with an ex-girlfriend, blog I opened with ex-girlfriend begot the free WordPress blog again, and free WordPress blog begot Special Kind of Stupid.

It has been a crazy ride full of laughter, stupidity, awesomeness and begots.

So, for this week’s Friday Four, I am going to list four of the favorite blog posts I have written. Long-time readers will already know these, but newer readers or readers who have never taken time to go through my archives could be seeing these for the first time. Either way, I hope you enjoy.

One

What Happened to The Dell Dude?

Overview:
In a story almost too sad to be true, the answer to the “What happened to that Dell dude?” question is answered.

Favorite Excerpt:
Cops, lawyers, and media members banded together in an effort to rid society of “Steven.” On February 9, 2003, Curtis was arrested for attempting to buy a small bag of marijuana.

“I was in my apartment taking a nap when some cops knocked down my front door, threw a bag of weed at me and shouted, ‘no we will not sell you marijuana!’”

Added Curtis, as he rummaged through a nearby garbage can, “I was framed.”

“It’s true,” responded arresting officer Frank Stallone. “We framed that boy good.”

Background Story:
Long before I began blogging, I remember being really, really annoyed with those Dell commercials with that “Steven” character. The day he was arrested for buying marijuana, which ultimately led to the end of those annoying commercials, was a happy day for me.

This blog post was written when I asked out loud, to no one in particular, “I wonder what happened to the annoying Dell Dude guy?” I’d like to think my recount is pretty darn close to the truth.

Two

Part One – Braves “Put Down” Pitcher, Tell Players He Went to Live on Farm

Part Two – Atlanta Braves to Face Brain Eating Zombie

Overview, Part One:
In an act of mercy, the Atlanta Braves have put pitcher Mark Redman to sleep.

Overview, Part Two:
One year after being put to sleep, Mark Redman is back to exact his revenge on the Atlanta Braves.

Favorite Excerpt, Part One:
“A few players asked us what we were talking about in our meeting, but once the pizza and clown arrived they quickly forgot all about it,” said pitching coach Roger McDowell.

Favorite Excerpt, Part Two:
In an act of self preservation, third baseman Chipper Jones is attempting to convince backup infielder Martin Prado that bathing in olive oil and oregano will help him become a better player.

“Martin’s young and doesn’t speak English very well, so I think I can get him to do it,” remarked Jones.

Background Story:
I wrote the original “Braves ‘Put Down’ Pitcher…” blog post after hearing the news the Braves had finally cut ties with pitcher Mark Redman, who was dreadful in his short time with the team. I have no clue where I came up with the idea of writing a fake news story stating Redman had been euthanized by the team. It just struck me as funny at the time.

Well, a year later, Redman was set to pitch AGAINST the Braves as a member of the Colorado Rockies. Even though literally no one would have brought it up or even cared, I decided I needed to write a follow-up blog post that explained how a pitcher I wrote had been put to sleep was somehow able to pitch again. My solution: He’s a zombie.

Three

Twins Reunited by Awesome Dude and Awesome Dude’s Brother

Overview:
Identical twins, born nearly two years apart, have finally been reunited.

Favorite Excerpt:
After a few more email exchanges, Tim and Kevin came to the realization that Heath and Matt were two different people. “Naturally, we came to the only logical conclusion anyone could make in such a situation,” said Kevin.

“Matt and Heath were identical twins who needed to be reunited.”

Background Story:
Back in my Xanga blogging days, there was a fellow Xangan who commented frequently at my site by the name of Matt Birnie. One day, I wrote a blog post about him. That post included a photo of Matt that he had put on his own Xanga site. Well, my brother read this one day and asked about it. He wondered where I’d found the photo. When I asked him why, he explained that it looked exactly like a friend of his by the name of Heath Clark.

My brother showed Heath the picture of Matt, and he took a picture of himself doing the same pose as Matt did in his picture. Heath gave it to my brother, who gave it to me. I took it and used it to write the work of fiction Twins Reunited by Awesome Dude and Awesome Dude’s Brother. This is quite possibly the favorite thing I’ve ever written.

Four

God Answers Critics, Sentences Paris Hilton to Jail

Overview:
To once and for all prove His existence, God sends Paris Hilton to jail.

Favorite Excerpt:
“I was so certain God didn’t exist, but this has completely altered my outlook,” remarked atheist Dan Ryder of Omaha, Nebraska.

“God is real. And He is awesome.”

Background Story:
Paris Hilton was being sent to prison. I was ecstatic and had to write something about it. What I settled on was the idea that EVERYONE in the world was ecstatic about it, and that everyone would be thanking God for her incarceration. That quickly shifted to the idea where God was responsible for sending her to prison because He wanted to prove to everyone He really existed.

And there you have it. Four of my favorite blog posts of past 3.33 or so years. I hope you enjoyed them half as much as I enjoyed writing them. Considering how overly enamored I sometimes am with my own work, I realize this hope might be a tad optimistic. But I digress.

So, what do YOU think of these old blog posts? Are you reading them for the first time? Have you already read them over and over? Would you like me to point out some more favorites of mine to save you the hassle of having to go through all my archives? As usual, please leave a comment or two or ten! It’s very much appreciated.