Whenever I feel down on myself for being such a serious fuddy duddy, I just lift up my arms and remember my armpits. To the best of my knowledge, nobody else has such magical armpits as I. They are never deodorized with vulgar scents like Old Spice or Rite Guard - such masks would only detract. Many men wish they had armpits like mine, but they will have to wait. Heck, I'm just gifted at armpittedness. If I walk past your area and you smell something splendid - it's your lucky day - it's my gift to you. If you hear bells chiming and see doves flying forth from my armpits - it's my armpits being happy! When you see/hear/smell/touch/taste my armpits you're being touched by the Spirit. I just want to give a shout-out to Wally and his wife for being there when I built my first horse fence. Thanks Wally and June! This ad is for real. Okay, it's not, but I guess you figured that out by now anyway, right?! This has been an installment of my Stupidville Chronicles. More later!

I'm to see/smell/or whatever, what's next.

I think Wonderbread's emoticons are probably funnier than my magical armpits, but let's just keep that to ourselves, kay?!