No Complaints

When people ask me the obligatory How are you, How are you doing, or How's your day going, my mind often floods with responses:

Happy to wake up next to the person I love but still incredibly pissed I can't marry her. How's your third husband doing?

Sad to see the space shuttle program come to an end. Do you think space exploration is for godless heathens?

Shocked that a United States governor has scheduled a day of prayer and fasting in order to "offer spiritual solutions to the many challenges we face in our communities, states, and nation." That's going to work, right?

Bewildered that the crazier the words out of a person's mouth, the better presidential candidate they make. Now that Trump's out, will you be voting for Bachmann?

Missing Anthony Weiner. Have you sexted with your congressman today?

Wondering if strangers will knock on my door again this weekend to find me wearing my favorite t-shirt with a hole perfectly placed over my right nipple. Does God send His people to your house, too?

Excited the US women are playing in the World Cup final. If it were the men, do you think we'd have gotten the day off of work to watch them play?

Loving reading books better than the one I wrote. But if mine gets published you'll still buy it, right?

Alas, my inner smartass usually responds, No complaints.