It’s the dead of night.  I’m making my way home, whistling, when suddenly the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.  A ring of chortling vegans emerges from the shadows and surrounds me, their grinning faces lit by the stark glow of overhead street lights.  “We saw you eat that steak, Kent.  You…

“DAMN AND BLAST!”  My English professor, a grammar nazi of the first order, slashes up my story with a storm of red marks.  “Sentence fragments!  Improper punctuation!  AND ITALICS DO NOT DENOTE TELEPATHIC COMMUNICATION!”  He shoots up from his desk, sending his chair screeching backward, and slaps me across the face.  “I WILL NOT HAVE IT, SIR!  LITERATURE…

I’m at Costco on a Sunday.  My cart is getting rammed from the sides like Luke in Return of the Jedi when he’s on that badass speeder bike.  I’m reaching for a box of keurig cups when a soccer mom rushes in, grabs it, and gives me the finger.  I race towards a pack of bacon…

My boss claps my shoulder and whispers in my ear.  “Business trip to Utah next Monday.  Mando…as in mandatory.”  I mutter, “Why?  So you can get drunk off your ass and try to make out with your subordinates?”  He turns around and sputters, “Excuse me?  This is TEAM-BUILDING!”  I’m about to apologize when he grabs…