Since it was such a big hit yesterday (1 whole comment! Wowza!), I present to all of you the second volume of favorite quotes from the SKOS archives. Just like sliced apples, an open jar of mayonnaise and a pot of coffee, SKOS quotes are just as appetizing the second day.

Regarding the soft spot I have for people who have been smitten by Cupid:

“Whether it’s a shy teenager or an awkward man in his forties who still lives in his parent’s basement, it warms my heart whenever I hear Cupid has struck someone in the buttocks with his pointy, rusty arrow. It brings out both the romantic and the doctor in me.”

Regarding the reason I am not afraid of our country’s recession:

“Probably because it sounds so much like ‘recess,’ the word ‘recession’ doesn’t scare me. Whenever I hear someone say the word I begin daydreaming about being a kid again, climbing monkey bars on a playground and ‘accidentally’ knocking the other kids down. Good times, good times.”

Regarding the way items still smell like “grandma’s house” years after leaving her domain:

“I don’t pretend to understand the science behind it, but it’s nothing short of magical. (…) That smell (has) been living in the house for several decades. It (has) become a living entity. It (is) alive, it (is) powerful, and it (is) angry.”

Regarding my practice of only rinsing out my coffee mug with hot water:

“Some might say that this is still unsanitary. I would argue that coffee’s abundant awesomeness purifies and cleans the mug better than any soap or brush ever could. And by not recklessly using soap, I am helping save the environment.

To those who might ridicule my practice, I ask: why do you hate the environment? What did it ever do to you? Rain on your wedding day is no reason to hate the environment, Alanis.”

I go on…

By not washing my coffee mug I have allowed it to remain in its original, pristine state. Imagine if Leonardo da Vinci cleaned the Mona Lisa with soap every day. (…) The constant cleaning would’ve meant Leonardo would have been too busy to write his movie script for The Da Vinci Code.”

Regarding…um, well, this was the closing line in a blog post about a disappointing baseball pitcher who had been euthanized, became a zombie, and was now pitching against the team that put him down. Yes, it is as crazy as it sounds:

“It’s always nice when you get the chance to prove your doubters wrong and eat their delicious brains.”

“Why does it feel like I forgot to do something? Oh! My second bucket of fried chicken!”

Regarding how unusual it is for me to sign a credit card receipt without reviewing it:

“I’m methodical when it comes to finances, so this oversight is the equivalent of a surgeon forgetting to wash his hands or Rosie O’Donnell forgetting to eat her second lunch.”

Regarding a person being pinched for not wearing green on St. Patty’s Day:

“Who on earth invented this practice of pinching anyone who isn’t wearing the color green on St. Patrick’s Day? Was it the same guy behind all those Leprechaun movies? If so, dude, haven’t you done enough?”

Regarding the brutally blunt and aggressive way I describe the different categories of female attractiveness:

“In Kev-speak, ‘cute as a button’ is the highest praise a female can achieve for her appearance. It ranks just above ‘pretty’ and ‘she seems like a very nice girl.’ I hope this language doesn’t offend any of you. Kev-speak can be quite forward sometimes.”

Regarding my disdain for our overly litigious society:

“I wish I could sue people who file frivolous lawsuits.”

Regarding my body’s amazing ability to heal itself:

“On numerous occasions during my life, I’ve cut my face while shaving. Miraculously, a few minutes later, the bleeding will stop. True story.”

“I am NOT crying. I just have a little makeup in my eye!”

Regarding my tongue-in-cheek defense of Alex Rodriguez after it was revealed the baseball player fainted when his wife was giving birth to their first born:

“So what if he stays up until 3 AM every Friday night to watch Steel Magnolias and cry his eyes out? It would take a robot not to cry at that movie.”

Regarding my disbelief at how I am single, yet Charles Ray Fuller — the man who tried to cash a $360 billion check — has a girlfriend:

“My handwriting is exquisite. Mr. Fuller, based on the scanned image of his forged check, has very poor penmanship.”

“I have a moderately good sense of humor. The funniest thing Mr. Fuller has ever done, based on the evidence at hand, is try to cash a $360 billion check. Granted, that is funny. But is it ‘ha ha’ funny?”

“Mr. Fuller was unlawfully carrying a weapon. I have never unlawfully carried a weapon, unless you count these two fists of fury attached to the ends of my wrists.”

I don’t WANT to tell your kid I will murder Santa Claus if he doesn’t behave, but doggone it I will if you don’t get him to stop throwing cereal at that poor old lady.

Regarding my open letter to parents asking them to start teaching their children the proper ways to behave in society and to stop waiting for good Samaritans like myself to do it for them:

“Don’t wait for me to throw an orange at the head of your teenage son when he doesn’t hold the door open for an elderly lady walking behind him. Teach him manners. Teach him to respect his elders. Teach him that oranges hurt if they are hurled at your head with great velocity.”

Regarding my inability to give someone a backhanded compliment:

“I wouldn’t know how to give a backhanded compliment even if a compliment was written on the back of my hand.”

Regarding the reason my poor sense of direction and my innate awesomeness are related:

“Most men are born with a compass in their forehead. But when God was handing out compasses, I asked Him for an extra helping of awesome instead. True story.”

Nothing will discourage rebellion in students quite like the possibility their teacher is a deranged psycho who might hurt them.

Regarding my advice to a teacher who was having trouble controlling her classroom:

“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 psycho.”

Regarding my assertion that I am the same humble, down-to-earth guy I was when I first started blogging:

“It’s just like I was telling my butler, Jeeves, the other day after I threw my glass of 1997 Romane Conti in his face:

‘Red wine should be served at 60 degrees Fahrenheit, you buffoon. This tastes like 61 or 62!’

Wait, no, that wasn’t it. What relevant thing was it I told him? Ah yes, I remember.

‘I am the same humble, down-to-earth guy I was when I first started blogging.’

And you know what Jeeves said?

‘The master is correct, sir.’

See? If that’s not concrete proof, I don’t know what is. Ol’ Jeeves is a straight shooter. He wouldn’t lie to me.”

I honestly can’t say whether lots of reader comments would encourage me or discourage me from posting a Volume 3. Hmmm. I guess it’s a darned if you do, darned if you don’t situation, depending on your point of view. Best just to leave me lots of comments and hope for the best!