Some questions don't have answers. Like how come I put a dirty fighting star on the knife rack. Let me clarify: by dirty fighting star, I mean a thing used in martial arts that has five points, is about four inches in diameter and is like five little knives all welded together facing out, and you throw it and it sticks into things. I found it on the street and put it on our magnetic knife rack in the kitchen, where my poor, long-suffering wife has to use the knives, and therefore was forced to use a knife that was in close proximity to pee and poo and lord knows what else from the street. So she asked me how come, and I didn't really have an adequate response.
Other mysteries: Why are people so mean? To wit: my sister was getting a pedicure and the manicurist next to her turned grey and keeled over, apparently dead, but actually just having a seizure. So my sister called 911 and they came, and after they sorted out the mess, the nail salon fired the woman then and there for seizing on the job, since she was an illegal and no one wants a seizy manicurist.
But really, who am I to solve the riddles of Life? After all, I am but one man. And also I am busy these days, having moved, then going to NYC for almost two weeks, which included the Best Day Ever. Then back here, new house, then I'm going back to NYC again this week.
And right now I can hear a man yelling in the street. I don't know why he is yelling, or what will make him stop, besides, of course, my trusty scatter gun.