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 71

Reflections from the life and times of Mr. Smith. I had done it. I finally did it. I was victorious. I conquered the mysterious space-time continuum. I created a machine that displaced the temporal disturbances. For you unscientific people, I created time travel. What does one do when they first build a time machine? I of course went back in time and gave myself the plans to the machine. That way I could create it in half the time. Then, instead of taking two years, it only took one, and i had the whole other year to stalk....I mean, date...Charlene. Next place I went was my wedding day. I was slightly surprised to see Kate there instead of Charlene. Blasphemy! Fortunately, my future is not set in stone. Most of my friends were there. Well I mean, two out of three came. That’s not bad considering. Four if you count pastor Bill. He’s sort of a friend. As long as I keep paying my tithe. Yesterday he started a fifty part sermon series on the giving of tithes and offerings. Did you know bananas taste funny when you mix them with chopped anchovies? Who’d have thunk it? Another curious thing about my time traveling machine, which I discovered, was that wherever I travel to, a copy of me was left there. I mean, can you imagine a wedding with two grooms? AWKWARD. I went back in time to the Civil War, many times over, and created an army. The south nearly won the war! If only I hadn’t stopped to pause and reflect on life in the middle of the battle field...all twenty thousand of me. I’ll never go back to Gettysburg again.
Thus ends this week’s reflections. And then my mirror image disappeared.

Episode 66

Reflections from the life and times of Mr. Smith. I fixed the hole. Yes, THAT hole you moron. But for some reason I felt...Lost. I felt like I was living in two different worlds. Here I was at home, and yet I was having random flashes as if I were on a random island in the middle of nowhere. On this island I lived a second life. I had flashed sideways...and tripped. My face was buried in the sand. I pushed myself upright and was blinded by the...blinding sun. I saw a smoky blob moving across the horizon. It made strange growling noises and the trees shook and it exploded out of the ground. I was terrified. Then I saw it. I saw IT which stilled my heart. It that made my heart skip a beat. It which made my perspiration flow freely from my brow. It...was a plan crash. I had failed on my mission. I had not saved flight 815 from Sydney to L.A. Horror gripped my heart. Pain told my hand to stop gripping. I stood in utter bewilderment and disbelief as the terrible sight of the crash and plane swept me off my feet. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a man walking across the beach. I was rather surprised, considering the plan had yet to finish crashing. But I paid him no mind. I hastened toward the crash sight. What I saw bewildered and befuddled me. It was confusion, mass case. I decided to come back the next day. Thus began my bewildered existence on this peculiar island...apart from my regular existence. I had truly created a reflection.
Thus ends this week’s reflection. And then my mirror image disappeared.

Episode 65

Reflections from the life and times of Mr. Smith. The president called me again. There was a tear in the space-time continuum. This looks like a job for…Mr. SMITH! The tear was residing over Australia in the approximate vicinity and time of September 23, 2003. My journey had begun. My job was clear. Repair the hole! Not that hole, you idiot! I hopped on the URSTUPID and did some quick travelin’. Pretty soon, I was in Australia, mate. There, I met the king of Persia. That dude is awesome. First thing I knew, he started playing some screamo music…on his harpsichord. It really pulled on my heart strings. Then I paused, and reflected on life, and the merits of screamo music, and realized…there were none. A typical realization for a genius such as I. Now I’m not a registered genius mind you…but I did score pretty high on my genius test scores. Anywho….(make that with four o’s…or, four and a half…). Anywhooooc? Where was I? Persia? No. I was Lost. I was Lost. I said that twice…no matter. I realized…I had to get Back to the Future. I had repaired the hole…not that hole you idiot! I repaired IT. Unfortunately, I was too late to catch flight 815 before it flew through the rip in space-time continuum. Poor Lost souls (emphasis on the Lost.) If I never shave, can it stay as scruff forever? Have you ever noticed that Jack’s scruff NEVER grows out? And that he always breathes REALLY hard? I’m sensing a connection between breathing and hair growth. I think I should start breathing on my chest…
Thus ends this week’s reflections. And then my mirror image disappeared.