I'm married and have a child, so I don't really relate to your single-guy issues anymore. I was out buying diapers, and I ran into a guy I know.

"Tom—hey, big news... Get this... I'm moving in with my girlfriend!"

Really. Wow. You just blew my mind. You mean to tell me that now, if you want to break up, you might have to wait until the end of the month?

What other earth-shattering commitments have you been making? You bought a transit pass? Slow down. Are you sure you are ready for that? Just know this—if you ride the train 22 days or less, you will break even or even lose money.

Madonna, I'm disappointed. You call this shocking? This is so "1980's offensive." You've got to keep up.

Also—forget the Catholics—we don't get offended anymore. You've got to go for the Muslims. I've noticed that those guys really get riled up! They'll put one of those "fatwas" on you and burn papier-mache Madonnas in the streets... it will be a blast!

I saw this in my parents' bathroom and thought it was a Playboy. That would have been horrible. It's still horrible—I don't need to be reading "Goldie—still sexy at 60."

Like watching gouache dry.

Bluff a cat.

I got in the shower this morning and my soap was gone. It had been replaced by a bottle of something in the gel family, and a scrubby ball hanging on a hook. I didn't panic. I picked up the ball, squeezed some of the stuff on it, and (improvising) I scrubbed away. The shower took no longer than normal.

Over coffee, my wife gave me a look like, "Did I throw you?" She had not. Chalk one up for the ever-adaptable American man.