"That's it", the technician sighed. "Your

"That's it", the technician sighed. "Your memories've been backed up to our six data centers."Jim smiled, but there were no data centers except the tech's ancient iPod video drive.

The reason why the tech would put all Jim's memories on his ipod, only god knows. "where are we?" Jim said. "who are you?" The techie's eyes widened. Something had gone wrong! Why

did Jim Belushi ask questions anyway? ABC did not design this model for higher learning or critical analysis. It was merely a dick-joke parrot, made for the cheapest sitcom

entitled Watch the Birdie. The premise was simple. The bird lived in a Golf Club, and made potshots about the weight and outfits of the duffers as they came in from the 18th hole.

but then, out of the 19th hole jumped the Kitty, who had already been Watching the Birdie for quite some time, especially during the most private hours of the night. Soon enough,

the Kitty would let loose with it's usual stream of expletives. Hardly anything to get worked up about. Rather, it was only when it grabbed my club that

that I realized I was a ghost of my former self. How did it come to this? I had sunk to a new low. And I was leaking ectoplasm which has resulted in my inability to spell correctly

, I couldn't get over yesterdays booboo. Teaching English class and writing POLITITIAN like this.

The kids laughed at "TIT", not that I misspelled the word. That realization only compounded my failure in as a teacher of "Language Arts." The PTA president

was sitting at the back of the class and saved my ass by saying "Now we know!" On cue, I said "And knowing is half the battle!" All the kids raised an arm and cheered wildly.