Sorry, but I lost count a long, long time ago. "Then you should count on your fingers and thumbs -- or borrow a long abandoned abacus." I don't know how many times I've heard about cars crashing into fast food drive-thrus, but it's happened plenty. "Talk about ruining your appetite." Tell me, are people really that hungry that they can't steer in a safe and responsible manner when ordering their food? "All I know is, when I'm starving, all I see in front of me are tacos al carbón -- pedestrians beware!" If you'll all take a moment -- "I don't have that much time." -- notice how I mentioned 'fast food,' not 'fast car.' People have to drive slower, keep a foot in the vicinity of the brake pedal. "Uh, is that the one on the right or the left?" Hungry drivers also have to pay attention to what's around them, particularly brick and mortar. "Is that a new rock band?" There's no other way to put it than to say that people are horrible drivers when they're thinking of food. "Speaking of food -- I want some!" I recommend for people to have a snack in their car just to tie them over til that chicken quesadilla's done. "No quesadilla for me, thank you. Those do tricks on me. You see, I'm lactose intolerant and -- " And I can't tolerate your digestive tract talk, so stop! "And I thought you cared..." Look, I'm not claiming to be the world's best driver, but you've gotta be pretty bad behind the wheel to go crashing into a drive-thru. Imagine the embarrassment: you bring down a wall -- or three -- and then what? "I'd drive away quietly, hope nobody noticed..." Does everybody just pretend that nothing happened? That's gotta be awkward: "Give me a minute, please, while I get these bricks off my windshield... Okay, I'm ready: I'll take two cheeseburgers, hold the cheese, please..." That takes the cake, don't you think? "I thought you were taking burgers..." Uh, it's just a saying. "What I'm saying is that I don't want any cake -- I want burgers!" I hate the thought of anyone getting hurt at drive-thrus, so maybe we should think outside the box. "I love Joaquin in the Box!" No, I mean we should come up with some creative ways to assure safer drive-thrus. "How 'bout traffic lights?" You can't put a traffic light at drive-thrus. "Why not?" You just can't, that's silly... "Sorry, just a thought..." A crossing guard, maybe. But not a traffic light...
Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, I'm greatly disturbed... "Oh, we could've told you that a long time ago -- it's the worst kept secret since Joan Rivers' nips and tucks." Let me explain, please. I have a valid reason for saying I'm disturbed. "Pssssst... it's sad how disturbed people are always the last to know...." Please, give me a moment to clarify -- "Oh, it's perfectly clear, you're an absolute wack job." What I'm disturbed about is that there are kids around the world who wear fake braces as a status symbol! "Say whuh? How does one brace oneself for such calamitous news?" Whatever happened to fancy sports cars or overpriced designer jeans to show off one's status? "We'll have to ask the Real Housewives of Beverly Hills -- as soon as they return with their new cheeks." It really irks me that kids in countries I can't pronounce will remove their braces like a pair of shoes -- or chanclas -- when they get home: "Boy, my teeth are bushed! -- I think I'll take off my braces." Who are these shallow kids? Are they really rich or do they just pretend to be? "For now, let's pretend not to hear you." Faux braces -- "Did you just cuss?!" -- are an insult to the generations of kids who've suffered with real braces -- in other words, oral blisters! "I always thought they were marshmallows." I tell ya, back in my day, barbed wired was used to straighten teeth! Not only that -- "What else is there?" -- I'd walk through blizzards for miles to get to my ortho appointments -- on time! "We believe you..." You don't believe me! I still have the scars to prove I wore legitimate braces, too. Wanna see 'em? "The scars, no." Why so squeamish? "I'm not a squirrel." Heck, I'm so marked, I play Tic Tack Toe with the inside of my mouth. "We prefer checkers." Yeah, there's nights I still wake up in a cold sweat, wincing as the ortho tightens my braces with all his might: "Not the pliers, doc! Not the pliers!" It's a miracle I'm a contributing member of society... "That's according to you." I've had nightmares where my mouth explodes into a spectacular array of bloody blisters. "We'll never see the 4th of July in quite the same way..." Wearing braces was no fun, I tell ya. I mean, my lips would get so puffy, friends would ask if I was Mick Jagger's kid. All that pain and suffering, I deserve a medal or something, in my humble opinion. Maybe a coin with my likeness. "We wouldn't like that..." Fake braces, please... How dumb are today's kids? "We don't know. We haven't met yours." Take that back! Take that back now! "Fine, we have met your kids..."
I want to admit something. "Oh, you don't have to share that with us." But I want to. "Whatever you do behind closed doors is your business -- just make sure they're locked." What are you talking about? "What are you talking about?" It's nothing bad. "We'll be the judge of that..." I want to admit that I'm learning to like a good party as much as the next guy... "What next guy? Your imaginary friend? Aren't you a little old for that?" I don't have an imaginary friend... "Oh, so you're anti-social?" I recently learned that gorillas have birthday parties, too. "What about bachelor parties? I bet those turn into Gorillas Gone Wild." That, you'll have to ask somebody else about... "Maybe I'll ask your imaginary friend -- I can pretend too, you know?" Hearing about gorilla birthday parties got me to wondering why I've never been invited to such gatherings. First, I get passed over for the Golden Globe after-parties, then the Academy Awards' -- and now this? I'm not good enough for gorilla parties? "Obviously not." This is definitely upsetting. "Oh, you're not missing much..." You think so? "I could be wrong..." I bet gorilla parties are overrated. "They're so 80's..." I don't wanna go to no stinkin' gorilla party! Don't invite me 'cuz I'll turn you down! "That's the spirit!" Beside, what would I get a gorilla for his birthday anyway? "A jungle gym?" And how do you dress for such occasions? "You'd have to go like Tarzan..." You think so? "You'd have to walk around in a leopard print thong..." I don't wanna do that... "NOBODY wants you to do that." You know, all this birthday party talk brings back memories of when I was a kid... "Is it humanly possible to remember that far back?" Yeah, my parents never let me go to birthday parties when I was a kid. My mom thought the ice cream would be too cold and I'd sick... "You could've put it in the oven..." To my parents' credit, they had parties for me at the house -- but no friends from school were allowed to come over. It's like my folks thought my schoolmates had the chicken pox -- or leprosy. "Or runny green snot?" At a very young age my parents instilled in me the notion that schoolmates could be around me Monday thru Friday -- but not the weekends. "But you came out of it okay, right? You're well-adjusted." I think so. Other than my daily bouts with social anxiety, I'm doing great!
Recently I was very, very impressed, and that's not an easy thing to do... "By the way, has anyone ever mentioned that you're very, very unimpressive yourself..." It behooves me to ignore that. "It be whose what?" Getting back to my impressionable reaction, I was quite stunned to learn that a couple of New Zealand dogs recently passed their driving tests. "How 'bout that, there is hope for your teenage daughter!" Yeah, tell that to our insurance company... Now that I think about it, teaching dogs to drive can't be that much different than teaching teens, right? "Listen to you; how could you say that?" Well, anytime we tell our kid to slow down in residential neighborhoods, she barks at us... On second thought, I wouldn't want to be the driving instructor for our Shih Tzu... "Careful how you say that, buddy!" I can just see that poor dog trying to parallel park while cars are waiting... "Well, if somebody would cut that mop covering his eyes!" You know, all this talk about student drivers reminds me of the driver's ed. instructor I had back in high school. "They had cars back then?" Not that I hold grudges, but... "Go ahead, spill your guts -- let it all out." That short little dude was so mean, he surely had a Napoleon complex... "Ooh, I love Neapolitan .." To this day, I still don't know why he hated me so much. He was so mean... "How mean was he?" Meaner than mean... "You really mean it, don't you?" For whatever reason, the mean little man with tight curls -- I'll never forget his puffy head! -- had it in for me. The dude yelled at me every chance he could: "The car's already on! -- why are you touching the ignition?! Why?! Why?! You owe me a starter!" Sorry, but that S.O.B. was some kind of ogre... "Yogurt?" Ogre! I can still hear that bitter, angry voice: "Don't forget your turn signal! -- you forgot the turn signal!" And yet, the diminutive five-foot dragon was always smiling, always flashing those coffee-stained teeth when any girls were around: "Good morning, ladies... Ready for your ride?" With me, all he did was glare. And seethe. Like I was a nuisance to the world -- his world. "Alright, alright, it's time you got over it. Move on..." Please, just tell me one thing: what did those girls have that I didn't have?! Huh? Tell me! "Perfume -- and we'll leave it at that..."
