After all, THIS HAD NEVER BEEN DONE BEFORE.

Maybe they come in for a checkup, and you say, “I’ve got terrible news: you have a wart on your hand.” When they say, “What are my options?”, you blurt out, “You don’t have a wart!” Do this six or seven more times with other minor conditions. As a doctor, you should already have a list of these minor conditions.

On a related note, never believe anything your doctor tells you. He or she might be using my technique, and you don’t want to be taken for a fool. The doctor will respect you more if you question his or her every action and statement.

Now picture all the millions of lightbulbs out there, being powered by thousands of power plants, all of them working much harder than they should be, simply to produce artificial light.

What Edison should have done was to figure out how to make a never-ending wax candle. I bet there was real money in that.

First get strings. Then make them metal. Then get a big piano-shaped box.

Now, get an elephant, kill it, harvest the tusks, and turn those tusks into piano keys.

Now string the strings through the box and somehow connect them to keys that you push down. Add pedals and a seat that you can hide music in.

You know, I’ve seen a piano, and I still don’t get it. I’d probably just stick with the harpsichord.

Avoid using other humans as weapons or shields. Complex moral dilemmas are sure to ensue.

Care should be taken to not damage anything for weaponizing that you’d want to use or enjoy after the burglary. (See the human argument above.)

Oh, yeah. Textbooks are good, too. Thick ones with sharp corners.

Phones should come with brain chips. When the phone rings, you could just nod your head or swivel it or something and answer the call. To hang up, you’d shake your head really vigorously. Actually, come to think of it, that would shake the blanket off of you anyway.

You know what, nevermind. I don’t know how to file a patent anyway.

Hands-down, the worst.

How about the conspiracy between the hair product industry and the water utility companies wherein they both agree to keep prices low so people have hot water and “product” to shower with? Or the long-standing agreement between whales and dolphins which specifies that they should allow themselves to be caught for human entertainment because they’ve been on Earth so long that it’s time they just relaxed? Or what of the foundation-rocking alliance between Stephen King and his readers that he’ll never produce more than 666 novels in a year because some of his readers have kids or jobs?

Brings a little hope into the world, doesn’t it?

Since we need a starting point, let’s change “America” to “Rock Star Megacontinent”. I think the name speaks for itself. Now we can look at England and think, “England is basically a small, floaty America.” So, England’s new name is “Small Floaty Rock Star Megacontinent”. Consequently, Ireland’s basically a smaller, floatier drunk England, ergo Ireland becomes “Drunk Small Small Floaty Floaty Rock Star Megacontinent”, and so on.

Note: Because adverbs are so subjective, we shall repeat adjectives to emphasize them. Example: “The blue blue ocean” means “The mega blue ocean” or “The gnarly blue ocean”, depending on the speaker’s age.

When comparisons to other countries cannot be made, like in the case of Alaska, then entirely new names will be supplied, like “Frozen Bear Place of Whales”. The only downside is that “Drunk Small Small Floaty Floaty Rock Star Megacontinent” will never fit on a globe, which will require Ireland to invade and take over England, which will ruin the whole dang thing.

I think candles were invented by witches. Consider this: candles are often key props and symbols in witch festivals, candles are made of a substance which is solid when cold and liquid when hot, candles produce an almost eternal flame.

Not enough? Try this: both the words “Dale” and “Salen” are contained within the word “candles” (Salen being the original name of “Salem”, the site of a famous witch trial, and Dale being the name of the first recorded Man-Witch [which is not associated with manwhich]), some candles are black (a witch’s favorite color), and some famous dead people have candles that never go out (JFK – now commonly known to be a witch).

Still not convinced? Tilda Swinton, Elizabeth Montgomery, Melissa Joan Heart, Shannen Doherty, Rose McGowan, and Holly Marie Combs are all known witches and have all used candles!

I rest my case.

I think I would take Nostradamus more seriously if he hadn’t ended every prophesy with “I think” and then ten or twelve periods. It’s even worse when he added a final “maybe??” (like he did in that one World War IV passage).

Try as you might, you’ll never convince me that those are editor remarks. (Though his Hindenburg prediction was pretty eerie………..)

For instance, my book would be called, “Do Penguins Dream?” and the subtitle would be “As the arctic winds lull their quickly dying bodies to Hell?” It teaches at least three important lessons: penguins might dream, the arctic is cold, and all penguins go to Hell. What child wouldn’t relish a lesson like that?

(Note: the lesson that “penguins go to Hell” is more of a religious question. For atheistic or agnostic parents, the word “Hell” can be replaced with “Cleveland” or another far off, undesirable location that makes the children squirm a little. Also, penguins go to Hell because animals shouldn’t wear clothes.)

(Note: I’d go with the dragon because dragons are like dinosaurs.)

“Looks good. We’ll sell it for almost the same cost because you can move it around the house.” That’s my impression of the loomstress (see above).

For every shoe a man buys, a woman buys two point five. Look it up.

In the end, I think I’d opt for a blank expression, but I’d install motion-triggered fireworks. That’s good enough.

I think there’s a lot of unspoken hurt behind a magician’s voice when he says, “Look, there’s nothing up my sleeves.” It seems to suggest that, at one time, magicians were free to keep loads of stuff up their sleeves: coins, cards, dice, maybe even mulled wine and fresh apples.

Then, one day, some novice magician reaches just too far for the salt, causing all his sleeve-ware to spill out, and suddenly the gig is up. From then on, magicians around the world have to assure their audience that nothing, absolutely nothing, is kept up their sleeves. In fact, a whole cultural turn-of-phrase develops around the ordeal, painting magicians as thieves, charlatans, and swindlers instead of talented entertainers.

They still perform their illusions, but a tiny part of every magician dies with the words, “There’s nothing up my sleeve.”

“We can’t ignore it!” he screams from his office, walls adorned in different calligraphies of the letter “a”. ”It’s a legitimate name, you know!”

“Not in America, it isn’t,” quips the wizened “Letters X, Y, Z” editor, whose weary eyes belie his number of similar battles.

Then, when the book comes out, the “Letter A” editor comes to work to find a copy on his desk. He excitedly flips through his section, hoping that the Baby Name Book corporate fat cats had a change of heart. They hadn’t, but there’s a bookmark in the final chapter. It marks an entry titled “Zadolf”.

The two editors become life-long friends.

I think tea is the Sean Connery of drinks. He’s distinguished and proper. He’s a household name, even if you don’t regularly enjoy a Sean. He’s got a host of flavors, some exotic, and even the Queen enjoys him.

I think coffee is the James Dean of drinks. He’s reckless but admired, and he’s really popular with Americans. People obsess over him, and you’re sure that he has more than a cursory association with narcotics. Almost everyone goes through a James Dean phase, and almost everyone learns to tone it down after a couple of years.

I think water is the William H. Macy of drinks.

That group could have been its generation’s Beatles.

If you weren’t religious, you’d probably be, like, “Whatever. We’ll just stay away from the Christs from now on. Big loss.”