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June 5, 1978

Confession #1: When I wake up I am often afraid that many years have passed while I was sleeping. I check the newspaper many mornings just to make sure that it is still 1978.
Welcome to the June 5 edition of the Wannaskan Almanac. Like many of the contributors to this periodical, I am certifiably insane. People have told me, as they tighten my straight jacket, that this increases my creative abilities. Be that as it may, June 5 is the 156th day of 1978. I really hope that this has been the best year ever for you. If it hasn't, then send $1 to Happy Dude, 742 Evergreen Terrace, Springfield. I am not sure exactly what state, but how many Springfields could there possibly be?
Confession #2: I like caramel. I just can't pronounce it. How on earth did that word get so messed up? Is it three syllables or two? Is the second "A" silent? Does it make a mel sound or a mull sound at the end? Sometimes when I go to an ice cream shop I am afraid to ask for a caramel sundae because the person working there might know how to pronounce it perfectly and then I would feel like a real loser when I botch it.
A famous person born on this day was Thomas Chippendale. He was born in England and was known for being a furniture maker. He had an interesting life which you can read about here.
Confession #3: Like all good husbands, I like to surprise my wife with presents that she doesn't want and can't possibly use. One time I got her a Chihuahua while she was out. It wasn't too long after this that we got one of those fancy couches that pulls out into a bed.
An event of note that happened on June 5 was in 1661 when Isaac Newton was admitted as a student to Trinity College in Cambridge. Legend has it he brought his teacher a slightly bruised apple as a bribe on his first day.
Confession #4: I can't read music. I can play guitar...sort of...and I can bang a bit on the drums...but those lines and notes make my head spin. Luckily I have learned how to fake it pretty well. Sometimes the songs I play actually sound like the songs they are.
Your word for the day is paizogony. Paizogony refers to necking. I apologize if you are offended. Please don't call me a redneck or a hick...ey.
Confession #5: I absolutely, positively, and passionately hate adverbs. I also abhor...no, despise...no, loathe synonyms.
Thanks for reading! Without your eyes this poor little almanac would wither and die! Then you would have to read the zogony almanac and that costs money. It is a real pain in the neck to paizogony! If you laughed a little and inadvertently snorted chocolate milk out your nose, you can email your sad tale to me at ffefreekshow@hotmail.com . I promise that your comments are never given the attention they deserve!
Oh yeah, it isn't 1978. I am relatively sure of that!


Comments

  1. When I read you, as I did just now, I realize in a vague way just how brilliantly wacko you are and have been all the years I've known of your existence. I could've written, 'all the years I've known you', but until this almanac exercise I didn't know you as anyone but somebody's son-in-law, their daughter's husband, and their granddaughter's father--oh, and a legal immigrant (we presume, although doubt you were really being persecuted in Canada for not knowing all the words to the national anthem even though it's sung before every Jets hockey game, provincial PM election, and familial occasion) from twenty-three miles north of here. We accepted you, despite the vast differences, eh, between our countries. You, alone, have proved without a shadow of a doubt that Canadians have a sense of humor beyond Bob and Doug McKenzie, although it flourished with abandon here to its south. Thank you for migrating.

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