It’s Top 10 season. Since I only saw three movies during the course of the year, and two of them were “Casablanca” and the third I can’t remember but I don’t think was “Casablanca,” here are my Top 10 performances of the year.
At the traditional Thanksgiving Day meal at my house, also known as the traditional Thanksgiving Day disaster, there is always something new you can learn.
One year, I learned that there are more plastic bags inside the turkey than you really think there are. Or should be.
I went to the emergency room the other week. I also went to the emergency room the other week.
That’s right, I went to the emergency room twice in the past couple of weeks. It’s becoming a habit, although, to be honest, I’d prefer crocheting.
Here they are, the 11 easy steps to the No. 1 most popular recipe for the four days of Thanksgiving and the year’s worth of recriminations afterward.
I recently wrote a letter of complaint to an airline whose name I won’t mention although it rhymes with helta. Below is the transcript of my correspondence.
I am writing, of course, to complain about my recent flight.
This is what I don’t understand. How come a week ago I spent all day carefully blowing, raking, lugging and artistically arranging the leaves on my front lawn and now I have to do it all over again?
There’s no round-about way of saying this: I hate roundabouts. I hate them even when they use aliases and are called traffic circles.
Yes, I know that the National Bureau of Annoying Street Plans has found that installing roundabouts at intersections results in 4.3 percent fewer accidents than caused by movie theater popcorn machines. And yes, I know that roundabouts are designed to speed up traffic, reduce gas consumption, alleviate congestion and solve the debt crisis.
Medications like this may increase the risk of watching mindless reality television shows or excessive texting in children, teenagers, young adults, older adults, really old adults or insurance salesmen.
We fought the law and the law won. We fought the good fight, even if we didn’t know exactly what we were fighting for, how to fight, what round it was or whether we were actually playing bocce instead.
So, yes, we have ended our column shutdown, and all the adverbs have slowly returned to their usual sentence positions.
The race is not always to the swiftest. Sometimes, I figured, it’s to the guy right behind the guy who’s wearing the armor and carrying the lance.
Let me be clear about this: We will not re-open this column until the newspaper agrees to our demands that it completely agrees to our demands.
As you probably know by now, we have installed a new operating system for this column. This is our first new operating system in several years and we felt it was needed even though the old operating system worked perfectly well and people had actually learned how to operate it.
Our new operating system — Operating For Friends Even Now, or OFFEN — offers an all-new design and all-new features, none of which you will be able to easily understand. Which is, after all, the whole point of a new operating system, isn’t it?
I’m starting to think that when I travel the last person I should travel with is me.
Hello, my name is Neil and I’ll be your server this evening unless you want Bruce because he actually knows how to pronounce quinoa.
Every bill I receive pleads with me, on several sheets of paper, to go paperless. The bills implore me, they beseech me, they promise me 50 percent off on a second entrée of equal or lesser value if I would just pay my bills online.