"So help me, Bobbie!"

I have a new favorite game—“Jabberjot: The Wacky Word Game.” Players are given 90 seconds to write a short story using randomly selected pictures of characters, settings, and props, as well as three words and a theme. In the feverish fervor required to churn out a story incorporating all of the elements, hilarity often ensues. Here are some of my favorite stories that have come out of playing the game with friends and family:

“C’mon, eat it! So help, me Bobbie! I swear, if you break one more Christmas ornament, you’ll be eating moss all summer!”

Bobbie fingered the pink, fuzzy dice in his pocket. “They’re my only friends,” he thought. “If I can just hold on to these, I know things are going to change!” --Joel Gardner

* * *

The crowd jumped up and down as the terminally ill opera singer sang the last driving note of the “Ode to Fishing” opera.

Wanda underlined his name in the program. “I will always remember this night,” she sobbed. --J.Clark Gardner

* * *

Andrew got his lederhosen stuck when he was driving to work. He was trying to get the diseased salmon out from under the brake pedal.

This underlines the importance of cleaning out your care before it’s too late. With a clean car, you can jump for joy when you reach your destination. --Lindsay Gardner

* * *

It was summer, and Cleaver decided it was time to connect with the neighborhood boys. So he brought a red ornament and one set of fuzzy dice to the pinewood derby.

The other boys were enthralled by his fascinating items, so they let him join in on the fun. Cleaver sent his pinewood down the ramp and then . . . his car was defeated. He accidentally said a swear word, and once again had to spend a lovely summer in his bear cave. --Katie Gardner

“Jabberjot: The Wacky Word Game” is available at fairplaygames.com for $20.95.

The Screen of Shame

I trip up the stairs to the call center. A quick scan confirms my suspicion. I weave through a few corridors to the IT department. More of the same. Back downstairs, I look through the purchasing room and finance department. Same. Same. Same.

I sink in my chair, knowing now that my inkling was correct. I stand alone. I am marked. Cursed, even. Cast out and forlorn. I am the only one. I am the only one in the entire building without a flat panel LCD monitor.

I look up at the giant CRV machine before me, feeling both resentment and pity for its grubby screen, unexplained patches of velcro attached to its sides, and the way its pixels fuzz in and blur out in vertical lines at certain intervals in the day. This morning, four boxes containing shining, new 28-inch Dell flat panel monitors arrived in our department, and my coworkers chattered with glee as they replaced their old flat panel monitors with new flat panel monitors. There were now enough to give three employees two flat panel monitors, for optimum viewing and organization on their computers.

I remain alone with my tube-powered giant, like the child that got last week’s beanie weenies for hot lunch because the cafeteria had enough pizza for everyone but him. I look forward with a somber face and determined eyes, knowing that one day, if I am worthy, I will be rewarded for my patience and fortitude.

80 Gigs of Life-Changing Goodness

My iPod has changed my life. Quite the heavy claim, I know, but it’s true. Why else would I have already gone through four in as many years? Why else would I offer a moment of silence every time I pass that certain stretch of I-80 East where my third iPod, Kilretta, fell from the top of my car to an untimely death, my soul screaming in torment as I watched passing 18 wheelers crush her to pieces? Why else would I have recruited a coworker’s psychic friend to achieve astral projection to try and locate my first iPod, Kilroy, when he came up missing?

I’ll tell you how my iPods have changed my life. They have given me more control over what goes into my ears and eyes. When in my car, I listen only to music that I have chosen for me. No used car commercials. No morning DJ’s poring over what the famous people are eating for breakfast these days. No glimpses into the gaping jaws of hell caused by inadvertently hearing six seconds of a country music song while flipping through the stations. No correspondents broadcasting live from a Big Mouth Wireless, pretending they are impressed with the specials on Bluetooth peripherals you can hear about if you “swing on by” to pick up a free KUPI bumper sticker. Instead, I experience my music. My media. Tom Petty and The Cars. Alison Krauss and Cocteau Twins. Episodes of Monk and Jane Austen audio books.

If you ever hear someone like me gushing about their iPod, please don’t judge them. Congratulate them. Be happy for them. And look into getting one yourself. We could all do with a life-changing device now and then.