Episode 83

Reflections from the life and times of Mr. Smith. Trapped. Like a rat in a cage. Like a cat in a corner. Like an alligator out of water...in a garbage dump... on the outskirts of town...underneath a volcano about to erupt...at the foot of a floating city on Bespin. So there I was. Trapped. There was a certain level of de-ja-vu to the situation. Sort of like I was trapped, like a pickle in a pickle jar, full of jalapeno salsa. Trapped. Like a lyric in a rap song... on a Saturday night. So anyway, if you hadn’t gotten the point, I’m trapped in a coffin. Sealed like an elephant in a bar. Like a bear in a car. Like a pizza in the tsar of Russia. So anyway, I was sealed in this coffin. My mind was going in circles. Circles were going in my mind. Slowly, the circles turned into chocolate chip cookies. I ate them, and was nourished. My mind wandered. It crawled through my mind’s eye. It roamed down to my toes. The smell made it retreat back into my head. My prospects were grim. It was looking rather dim. Not to mention it was pitch dark in the coffin. Dark as a gorilla with its eyes gouged out. Dark as my thoughts in this little tomb. Then I paused and reflected on life, and pondered my situation within. Then I paused and reflected on death. I prefer life. But I was still trapped. Like a gnat in a mosquito net. Then I paused and reflected on mosquito nets, and realized, gnats are smaller than mosquitoes. Therefore, they can escape from mosquito nets. And that solved my dilemma. I got a running start and flung myself to the bottom of the coffin. I felt myself falling...falling...and when I landed, I was no longer trapped. The coffin shattered on the hardwood floor.
    Thus ends this week’s reflection, and then my mirror image disappeared.

Episode 82

Reflections from the life and times of Mr. Smith. It is a new year. It is a new day. Every single day. Every day is not a new year every single day. If it was, I would be very, very old. It is time for a new year’s resolution. Or is it a new year’s revolution? Perhaps, it will even be a new year’s revival. Or a new year’s reveal. Or a new year’s pizza. Whatever the case, the new year shall be reasonable, I hope. For my new year’s resolution, I resolve to resolve to go to the renaissance fair. For my new year’s revival, I will be sure to write 2011 a lot. Kind of like 2011.....2011.....2011....Not like, 2577. But, 2011. For the new year’s reveal, I shall reveal a new clothing line...a Mr. Smith clothing line that shall be very big in Hollywood...a clothing line that is gonna make me famous! For the new year’s pizza, I resolve to eat it with all the toppings, even anchovies and catnip. And pickled participles (or should I say particles?) of peanut brittle. Anyway, the new year shall be reasonable. I’m sure it will be a fair year despite being an odd number. It shall be an interesting year despite my boring life. It will be yet another year that probably will not bring me a wife. This also may be a very short year for me, seeing as I am still in a coffin.
    Thus ends this week’s reflection, and then my mirror image disappeared.

Episode 79

Reflections from the life and times of Mr. Smith. There I was. Where I was, I do not know. THERE, I was. Where was there? There was where. There was a hair in his glare. Where was the hair? In his glare, on a chair. He tripped on a stair and landed there. Yes, we had arrived on the moon. I was shocked. And appalled. No, just shocked. The moon didn’t make me sneeze. The moon was not made of cheese. Wheez. I was on the moon, I had sealed my doom. There had not been enough room in the space shuttle to the moon. Thus, not enough air to get there. My fellow astronaut had not...not arrived safe and sound. It was my fault, that was clear. I shouldn’t have drunk so much beer. Oh dear. All year oh dear. Would I now be stuck? Was that my present luck? Is that a duck? Yes, indeed it was. Then I paused and reflected on life, and contemplated getting a wife...for that poor duck. Then I realized, it was a plot. A plot of land. And I was home, in my own backyard.
    Thus ends this week’s reflections. And then my mirror image disappeared.

Episode 78

Reflections from the life and times of Mr. Smith. I was back in Smithville Florida at the secret NASA training grounds. I still had to change pickle history forever. I needed to go to the moon and take with me horseradish on a bun and back again. That way people would forget the pickle craze sweeping the nation. First, I had to be accepted by NASA. I had to come up with an awesome astronaut name of course. I was thinking about Buzz AllSmith, but it was already taken by the famous Buzz AllSmith, so I decided to become Buzz AllSmith the second. With this name, and some awesome shades, I waltzed into the NASA main building. I walked up and said “Yo yo yo! You know who I am!”The guard immediately snapped to attention and said “Yes SIR! You are the famous Buzz AllSmith! How can I help you SIR?” Then I paused, and reflected on life, and on security guards, and broccoli. Specifically the piece of broccoli between his two front teeth. Then, after pausing for a moment, I proceeded to demand to be seated on the space shuttle. Pretty soon, I was ready for lift off. I was going to be on my way to the moon, and I would make horseradish on a sandwich be more famous than a pickle on a sandwich. Because you see, astronauts are awesome.
    Thus ends this week’s reflections. And then my mirror image disappeared.

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1.03.01

Episode 75

Reflections from the life and times of Mr. Smith. I witnessed a crime today. A little girl stole an ice cream cone from a little boy. I was shocked. And you guess it…appalled. I walked over. I slapped the little girl in the face. I was very ashamed when her mother came over and started yelling at me, explaining how the little boy had diabetes and couldn’t eat sugar. The little girl had saved his life. I was ashamed. Very, very ashamed. I was not a good man. According to the lady, I was a very bad, bad man. I think she was exaggerating a little bit. The president thinks I’m a very good man…called me in on another case. There was a murder. Two people were dead. So technically, there were two murders. I believe they call that….a double homicide. And I would know. Because I am a homicide detective. Or didn’t you know? Basically that means I’m a detective with homicidal tendencies…or that’s what psychiatrist tells me. The murder scene was thus. There were two dead people…one of them here, one of them there. There were two guns…one of them here, one of them there. There were two chalk outlines…one of them here, one of them…you guessed it….there. The pieces were all there. They were adding up. They were screaming, murder. Actually, those were the witnesses. The police there were saying it was a murder/suicide. The man shot the woman and then shot himself. Ah, but I knew what really had gone on…there was a third person in the equation. But that could not have been so, for the man was wearing a tie. No man would ever commit suicide while wearing a tie. Trust me. So I told the policemen there was another person…a real guilty person. I poked around a bit, found cigarette butts. Indeed, the two victims did not smell like smoke. My theory was proving true. I unrolled one of the cigarette butts and found a business card. He had rolled his own cigarettes. The cops went and picked him up. We had our murderer. I don’t think the president expected me to solve the case, but I did. I am, after all…Mr. Smith.
Thus ends this week’s reflection. And then my mirror image disappeared.

Episode 74

Reflections from the life and times of Mr. Smith. Lazy Sunday afternoon. Psh, I’m lazy all the time. And today was no exception. I started off my day by making a commitment. A commitment I would not leave my bed. Of course, this went over rather well while I was sleeping. For when one is asleep, one does not think of leaving one’s bed. And when two is awake, two does think of leaving two’s bed. The first flaw in my plan, I figured out, was normally, I get up out of bed. This cannot be accomplished without leaving the bed. The second thing I found out, my pantry is downstairs. Therefore breakfast could not be accomplished without leaving the bed. Then I paused and reflected on room service, and I thought, if only I were in a hotel, food could be delivered. Delivered…yes…pizza places deliver. My phone was within reach of my bed. So I picked up and dialed the local pizza shop. After placing my order for a large pizza with everything on it (even anchovies) I sat in my bed awaiting the delivery. While I was waiting, I attempted to change my clothes without leaving my bed. My dresser was across the room. But I was able to keep my feet on the bed, stretch out, and land my hands on the top of the dresser. I stayed there suspended, till I figured out how to open my drawers. I had to rest my forehead on the dresser and reach down with my arms. The next sight was a rather unusual one, trying to change in that position, but I succeeded. Then I realized my neighbors were looking in my window. Unfortunately I could not get over there to lower the blinds. Next thing was quite a chore. In fact it was my morning chores…making my bed. This was rather difficult. Finally, I was able to bounce a quarter on the bedsheets while balancing on the bedpost. Then the doorbell rang. Big problem. It was the pizza man, but still I could not get to my food. My food had to come to me! Fortunately I had an intercom system.

“Who’s there?” I growled.

“Pizza boy!”

I explained to him how I was an invalid, who is unable to move from his bed, and my regular nurse was off duty and left me alone, and how I needed him to bring the pizza up to my room. He seemed reluctant to obey my wishes. Finally I had to resort to pretending to be having a heart attack. He rushed up the stairs, and fortunately, he remembered the pizza. Naturally he was slightly angered to find that I was not an invalid nor was I having a heart attack. But I did have a crisp fifty dollar bill for him, which he was pleased about. So I sent him on his way, and began to eat my breakfast. The day went on. Lunch came and went. I ate more pizza. I was beginning to get bored. I was beginning to get extremely bored. I was bored, I continued to be bored, I hit my head on the headboard…I found a board game under my bed. I became bored. The day went on. The shadows lengthened. Night was coming. I skipped supper. I was bored of pizza. Suddenly, it dawned on me…I couldn’t brush my teeth! My whole day was wasted when I got out of bed to brush my teeth.

                Thus ends this week’s reflection. And then my mirror image disappeared.

Episode 72

Reflections from the life and times of Mr. Smith. This morning, I decided it was time for another trip. It was time to go to the beach. Then I paused and reflected on life and I pondered beaches. And which beach I should go to. There’s the beach...on the west coast. The beach...on the east coast. The beach...on the south coast (excluding Mexico of course). And the beach on the great lakes. The beach...in Africa. The beach...in England. The beach...on the Red Sea. The beach....on the Dead Sea. The beach...on the Sea Sea. Oh! CiCi’s pizza...on the beach. With MLT on rye, when the mutton’s nice and lean. (That’s mutton lettuce and tomato by the way.) The beach in Hawaii. The beach in Fiji! Yes, Fiji. That would be my destination. It has been a long time since I’ve seen her. Yes, I am referring to...the blond native. I hopped on a plane. An airplane. I even remembered to buy a ticket. My flight was rather uneventful. Made out with a couple stewardesses...stole a couple blankets...threw up my shrimp all over the lavatory. Dumb airplane food. But like I said, rather uneventful. I was slightly befuddled and bewildered to see Hurley on the plane. And Kate. And Jack. And Sayid. Some dude with his face all bloodied and bashed in, and his arm in a sling. And also Sun. The whole Lost cast was on board. Fear gripped my heart. My hand gripped my chest. Then, it happened. We crashed. Now I had been in many other plane crashes before. But this one was different. All the Losties vanished in a flash of light. Then, we crashed. We just kept crashing, as if we were stuck in a time warp. They were there one second. They were gone. We crashed. They were there again. They vanished. We crashed. They re-appeared. Poof, they were gone. We crashed. Disgusted I stood up, walked to the end of the room, pulled out the DVD, and blew the hair off of it.
    Thus ends this week’s reflections. And then my mirror image disappeared.

Episode 70

Reflections from the life and times of Mr. Smith.
I wanted to bake a cake. I am a rather good baker you know. I just needed to borrow a cup of sugar from one of my neighbors. Mr. Jones, of course, was already dead and I didn’t know the people who had moved into his house since. Little Timmy of course, wouldn’t have any, and if he did, it would be imaginary. Mr. McKnight on my other side would be the best guess. I waltzed over to his house. I strolled up to his front door. And bashed it in. I couldn’t understand why he yelled at me to get out. I didn’t even get any sugar. But that’s ok. I would substitute baking soda instead. My cake would turn out ok. I didn’t have any flour, but I had another white substance lying around the house I used instead. I am not at liberty to discuss what it was. I was also out of eggs, so I used another excellent thickener...goats milk. And I also added many other secret ingredients which I cannot discuss. When my cake was done, I realized I had stumbled across some dynamite. I decided to try it out. No, I didn’t do it in my house, I’m not that dumb. I did it in Mr. McKnight’s house. I then I paused and reflected on life, and the Bible verse “love thy neighbor as thyself. And I realized, I can be a cruel person. I felt sorrow for my sins. I repented, and was baptized. That was when Mr. McKnight threw me in the pool.
Thus ends this week’s reflections. And then my mirror image disappeared.

Episode 69

Reflections from the life and times of Mr. Smith. I decided to go for a walk. I had not done this in a while. Perhaps too long. My legs were weak and flabby. I could hardly see my toes over my belly. Too much mayonnaise. Today I decided to take my music with me on my walk. I constantly see people with ipods and mp3 players and walkman radios and various other instruments. I decided to bring my boom box with me. Just held it up to one ear and started walking. I was blasting Beethoven at the top of its.... volume level. Suddenly I heard a voice. “Beethoven?” I asked.
“No dumb-dumb.” Replied a female voice. It was Beethoven’s wife. I paused and reflected on life. I had my suspicions that Beethoven’s wife was already dead. Thus this woman could not be she. I did not voice my opinion. Instead I simply said “hello.” When I opened my eyes, I saw quite a sight. The most hippiest hippie I’d ever seen. Man, she was hip. She was tight. She was LEGIT. FLOWER POWER!! I had met a genuine hippie. I was pleased. I hadn’t met a genuine hippie since mi papa left. He was a Mexican hippie. Now I’m not talking about my birth father, of course, I’ll never tell you anything about him. I’m not part Mexican just so you know. I don’t want you picturing some little Hispanic person with a little goatee. I am a Caucasian person with a big goatee. Gosh, get it right!
Thus ends this week’s reflection and then my mirror image disappeared.

Episode 68

Reflections from the life and times of Mr. Smith. I got a girlfriend. Surprised? She was too. I think of her when I see her. I think of her when I’m taking pictures of her. I think of her when I’m in a blimp up above looking down upon her. I love you Charlene. We went on a date the other night. To the roller derby. I don’t think she knew we were on a date. How come my girlfriends never like to acknowledge me? Such a poor soul am I. Though I’m really rich. Did I ever tell you I made the America’s best lists. No not America’s most wanted. America’s most wealthy! I own Bill Gates. I own Bill Gate’s dog. I own Bill Gate’s company. I own Bill Gate’s stocks. And his stockings. And his wife’s knitting needles. Then I paused and reflected on life and the merits of knitting one’s socks. I came to the conclusion it could be quite handy, if you knew how to knit. Perhaps I should take a class someday. Charlene could take it with me. Personally I love the smell of freshly knit socks. The sound of the needles clinking together. I used to watch dear old mum do that. Back in the good old days before she passed away...God rest her soul. Alas, God did not save the queen of Smithville. I think I need a snack. Perhaps some carrots dipped in mayonnaise.
Thus ends this week’s reflection. And then my mirror image disappeared.

Episode 67

Reflections from the life and times of Mr. Smith. This reflection is from my reflection on the Lost island. I awoke to the sound of raining coconuts...and mangoes...and papayas...and dogs? Or actually it was just one dog. It was a yellow lab. This made me pauses and reflect the merits of traveling with animals...and traveling with children. Seeing as the two are very similar. Suddenly I was astonished to see the most beautiful creature I’d ever seen. The long locks of curly hair...and then he turned around. I’m only interested in large women....not large men. The person walked up to me and was like “Dude...dude.” So I was like, “Dude.” And he was like, “Ok, dude.” And then I paused and reflected on life and tried to understand what had just transpired between us. He motioned and was like, “Dude.” And I was like, “Cool.” Together we walked towards their encampment on the beach. My new friend was a man of few words. Until he stepped on a sea urchin. I learned many words that day I had never heard before. They were Korean. The survivors of the plan crash took me in like a son...or an elderly grandfather. I lived with them happily for many days. Till they discovered I was not on their flight manifest. Me and some other dude named Ethan. He didn’t last long. Neither did I...but long enough to make out with Kate ;) Thus ends this Lost reflection.
Thus ends this week’s reflection. And then my mirror image disappeared.

Episode 64

Reflections from the life and times of Mr. Smith. I had arrived in Smithville Florida. I put on my mustache and big nose disguise. First I surveyed the area. I had to look for a way into NASA’s secret testing facilities. I looked to my right, I looked to my left. I looked down the middle and *oomph* you take a bite! I was chewing tobacco. I was trying to look like a hick farmer from Kansas. I saw the Royal colors come down the road. It was the Queen, God save her. Her motorcade was coming down the road towards me. I put on my best British accent and spat out my tobacco. I said “ahoy there, mateys! I’m beholdin’ to ya to bring me into the inner courts for me buckos have let me down.” The motorcade stopped. I was guessing my English accent was working. One of the guards turned to me and said “What are you talking about, chap?”
“Uhh…” I stammered. “I wish to speak to the queen.”
Suddenly, God Save the Queen started playing, and her royal highness herself popped her head out of her limousine. “What’s all this rot??” She exclaimed. Bewildered by her sudden appearance, I immediately forgot my intentions. “Hurry up laddie…I’ve got to go to the loo!”
“The who?”
“The loo! Get out of my bloody way!”
The motorcade swiftly commenced on its way in a puff of smoke. Then I heard it. That unholy noise. Someone BROKE WIND.
“What was that?”
One of the guards solemnly turned to me and said in a perfect British accent, “The Queen broke wind, God save her.”
Thus ends this week’s reflections...and all that rot. And then my mirror image disappeared.

Episode 63

Reflections from the life and times of Mr. Smith. It was time for a trip again. I paused and reflected on life and pondered places to visit. After a while of pondering I decided I would like to go to the moon. It would be very succulent to stand on a huge ball of cheese. But it can be very expensive to go to the moon. I would have to hitch a ride with someone else. Preferably where they are paying. I paused and pondered the meaning of life, and pickles. Why, why I ask do people eat pickles on sandwiches, Instead of sandwiches on pickles? Then it came to me, NASA. They were responsible for many things. They were responsible for tooth paste tubes, and cats that don’t lick themselves. They were responsible for the pickle on sandwich craze sweeping the nation. After all it was the famous astronaut Buzz AllSmith who took pickles to the moon and back on a bun. It was he who ate said sandwich with a slice of moon cheese in all the commercials, selling the sliced pickle idea even more. I had to have a talk with these crazy people who seamed to think that pickles should only be a condiment. I was heading to NASA headquarters in Smithville Florida. My goal: change pickle history forever, and catch a shuttle ride to the moon while I was at it. Thus ends this week’s reflections. And then my mirror image disappeared.

Episode 52

Reflections from the life and times of Mr. Smith. I decided I had gone too long without a job. Ever since my factory exploded, I had been living off my dearly departed mother’s endless wealth. When thinking of where I wanted to work, I first thought of my interests. Of course, food came to mind. And I thought of my favorite restaurants. Chick-fil-A…I could eat there 7 times a day. I went into my closest Chick-fil-A and asked for an application for employment. A girl who appeared to be 13, with no chin, brought me an application. I asked for a pen. She didn’t have one on her, so she called over to the other side of the room, “Ben, can I have a pen!” Then, out of the back, came a tall…handsome…masculine…distinguished looking gentleman. It was Jason, the manager I had talked to last time I had been there. He said “oh, we’re hiring! Don’t bother filling out that application - you’re hired!”
“Thank you.” I said. “How much does this job pay?”
“How much are you willing to work for?” He responded.
“100 dollars an hour?”
“You’re fired.”
Sadly, I turned to leave. I was trying to make him feel pity for me. It didn’t work. I left the restaurant feeling dejected. I had forgotten to eat any food again. As I was walking out the door, I bumped into a tall, graceful, youthful girl, who doesn’t spill pasta all over the counter. “Pardon me, ma’am,” I said. “Allow me to get the door for you.” I tried to pull it in, but it would not budge. I pulled with all my strength. The young lady said “Push!” I knew right then and there that I had made a fool out of myself.
Thus ends this week’s reflection. And then my mirror image disappeared.

Episode 50

Reflections from the life and times of Mr. Smith. So there I was in Africa. Somewhere in Africa. It’s hot here. I’m hot here. At least the natives think I’m hot…for a 52 year old balding white guy from America. I think its supposed to be a compliment. I was staying in a grass hut made of…grass. They had lots of interesting types of food, too. Like chicken-soup, made with goat. And pork broth, made with chicken. Every evening, the whole tribe gathered around the camp-fire and danced and sang songs, and sprinkled powder over me. It was some type of honorary new-comers thing. They kept on feeding me lots and lots of food. Lots of cornbread made of rice. Huge hunks of wild boar, made of domesticated pigs. I stuffed my face every night, and they continued to sprinkle white powder on me. One day they brought out a huge black pot, big enough to fit Elvis in it. As they danced around the pot, they poured water in it. Then they showed me a cool hut, in which there were several strikingly beautiful females who gave me a massage. After that, they invited me to come sit in an honorary place – above the great big black pot full of boiling hot water. I could tell it was reserved for very important people only. Then as I sat in my throne, I enjoyed watching a game of ball, played by the young children. I couldn’t quite grasp the purpose of this game, but it seemed they were aiming for this little round target, down to my right, which was connected to the bottom of my chair. One of the boys hit the target. Next thing I knew, I was sitting in the boiling pot. Then I realized it was just a fun way of getting me into a Jacuzzi! Then, because the vents apparently weren’t working, they took two large wooden spoons and spun me around. I could have sat there for hours. In fact I did. It was very nice and warm. I couldn’t quite understand the looks on the faces of the natives, when I stood up and got out of the pot. Had they never seen a duct tape suit before? I had been wearing it underneath my clothes, which had boiled off. The natives all dropped on their hands and knees and started singing something in some strange language I couldn’t understand. As I walked towards the edge of the village, I raised my arms and said in a loud voice, “Thank you for the food and the Jacuzzi!” They all shuddered and ran. I never understand strange natives, except for the blond-haired one. In Fiji.
Thus ends this week’s reflections. And then my mirror image disappeared.

Episode 49

Reflections of the life and times of Mr. Smith. I got a call from a friend of mine in Africa. Surprised I could hear him? You shouldn’t be. He has a very loud voice. I decided to change my normal ways and bought a ticket. Then I hopped on a plane. Normally I leave out that ticket buying part. Unfortunately, my plane crashed. I paused and reflected on life and realized, this seems to happen to me a lot. It must be something with me and plane rides. But then after all, a famous person once said, “What’s life without a plane crash?” Don’t ask me who said it; he must not be as famous as I thought. As is common with plane crashes, I survived. And fortunately, we crashed right in front of the runway in Africa, so I only had a little ways to walk. My friend had a car waiting for me, and I was driven to his house. But on the way, I was driven to insanity. The driver wouldn’t stop singing with the radio. I think he thought he was Elvis or something, he kept singing about a hunk of love. When I arrived at my friend’s house, I asked him why he called me. He said “Mr. Smith, I need your help. I need to decide, should I eat banana or mango with my lunch today?” I paused and reflected on banana and mango, and realized, I had flown half way across the world to answer this question. So I said “You should eat both.” He said thanks. But he didn’t offer me any. I guess I should have had him leave one of the choices for me.
Thus ends this week’s reflections. And then my mirror image disappeared.

Episode 48

Reflections from the life and times of Mr. Smith. Its game day. Someone gave me tickets to a Cardinals game. Not just any old game, it’s the game that’s today. Who are they playing? Who cares it’s the Cardinals!

I hopped in my car and I went far.
I slipped on a soap bar.
I got a sandwich, grilled. Char,
that is. On the way to the game, I picked up a dame.
I don’t know her name. I’m kinda lame.
When I got there, I took my chair.
A ball went fair. I couldn’t see for the glare.
The runner came home.
We weren’t under a dome.
I saw a man playing a trombone.
He wasn’t alone.
The Cardinals had scored.
But then rain poured.
In a delay I got bored.
I prayed to the Lord,
please let the Cardinals win!
I was poked by a pin.
That was a sin.
The game started again.
The Cardinals kept on winning.
Someone kept on sinning.
It was just the beginning
of the ninth inning.
Pujols hit it hard.
It went out of the yard.
It landed in the lap of a bard,
eating a can of lard.
The game was at an end.
I drove round the bend.
I was left to fend
for myself, because it’s the end.

Thus ends this week’s reflections. And then my mirror image disappeared.

Episode 40

Reflections from the life and times of Mr. Smith. There I was, freezing my proverbial tail off. My whole life flashed before my eyes. Was this the end of Mr. Smith? I paused and reflected on life as I stared at rafters in the cold damp barn. And I wondered, do pigeons live in Alaska? And I saw on the rafters, a rare white Alaskan pigeon, known for its large amounts of excrement. It was as if I saw into the future – something wet and slimy was on my face. In slow motion I saw bird poop coming down from the rafters. I twisted to the side and rolled over into a pile of eggs. My vision had come true. Something slimy was indeed on my face. And the pigeon said “In yo face!” And I paused and reflected on the merits of talking to pigeons. I realized, pigeons don’t talk. Suddenly a middle aged woman jumped from the rafters and landed in front of me. She said “howdy, partner!” She stuck out her hand; “put it there, partner!”
“Are you a cowboy?” I asked.
“After failing to win the vice-president election, I decided to become an Alaskan cow-girl and herd polar bears.”
Then I paused and reflected on the merits of herding polar bears. Then I paused and reflected on the merits of eating polar bears. Then I paused and reflected on the merits of eating cows. Then I said, “I’m hungry ma’am. Do you have any slop around here?” She said “What’s that on your face?” And I said “Yo’ mama!” Then I paused, and reflected on the merits of yo’ mama jokes and realized, I was entirely out of line. Next thing I knew I was lying on my back in the cold snow. I paused and reflected on the merits of black eyes. And I realized, there are no merits. There may be a Boy Scout badge, though. Why, why had I insulted her mama? Polar bear might have actually tasted good.
Thus ends this week’s reflections. And then my mirror image disappeared.

Episode 27

Reflections from the life and times of Mr. Smith. Yesterday I decided to go for a walk, down my stairs. It was a long journey. It took me many minutes. I kept pausing and reflecting on life. And I pondered why, why I ask you, why do I have thirteen steps in my house? I continued my walk. I went out the door. I stumbled down four more. Steps, that is. Then I paused and reflected on life and wondered why, why I ask you, do I have four more steps outside my door? I walked down the street. I looked for a seat. I yawned and sat down. On the only bench in town. As I sat there, I observed people as they passed. Gas, that is. One old lady stumbled past. She looked blind as the bat she carried over her shoulder. I stood to offer her a hand. She smashed mine with the bat. Then I spotted my girlfriend walking down the street. Good old Chelsea. I hollered out “Chelsea!” She snorted and walked the other way. She must have been having a bad day. I’ll have to send her flowers and chocolate. I’ll put them on her tombstone. She had a tombstone made for herself, when she tried to tell me she had died. I never did figure out why she told me she had died. I spent the rest of that day sitting on that bench observing people. And I paused and reflected on life and wondered why, why had I spent the whole way sitting on a park bench. Then I realized, if I was sitting, there was no weight on my feet. I wonder if I can float to the moon.
Thus ends this week’s reflections. And then my mirror image disappeared.

Episode 21

Reflections from the life and times of Mr. Smith. I work at Subway. At least I used to. The boss got a little bit angry. I tried to make a foot long, but it was a foot short instead, which means there was nothing there. It wasn’t my fault the boss ordered a foot long at that particular time of the day. At least he still got chips and a coke. Then I paused and reflected on life. And chips; buffalo chips. And who would eat buffalo chips? Maybe buffalos. And then I paused and reflected on buffalos. They sure are hairy things. Just like Aragorn’s kilt. Unfortunately, my boss fired me. I was standing a little too close to the stove, apparently. My shirttail caught on fire. When I realized it was a light, I ran out the door and grabbed for a bud light. Pouring it all over my seat, I sat down to eat. When I burst into flames, a whole bunch of dames stopped and stared. One of them grabbed a fire extinguisher and said “here!” and I said, “Where?” Needless to say, they really fired me then. Alas, I have no job. My mother would not be proud of me. And then I paused, and reflected on life. And decided, I didn’t really need a job. And I began to sob.
Thus ends this week’s reflections. And then my mirror image disappeared.