HAVE YOU EVER NOTICED...

Higher Canadian prices are always right next to the real price so they 
always catch your eye first.  Like if you pick up a magazine and 
mistaken the Canadian price for the price you have to pay.  Right 
before you yell "What the hell!?? Sports Illustrated costs eight bucks!" 
you realize its the price north of the border and you are overwhelemed 
with a combined sense of relief and embarrasement.

Tennis only has one camera angle.  Pretty much every other sport has 
about 6,000 different ones: like in baseball they have the "catchercam"
and "backboard cam" in basketball, and in football they have all those
fancy strategic attack diagrams everywhere.  But in tennis, it's been
the same camera mounted above the court for years.  They should put a
dent resistant plastic-protected camera on top of each netpost, and
those Latino  guys who run across the court and grab the balls should 
wear a mini cam strapped to their head. 

Taking a shower with the lights off in your bathroom seems like a cool
idea because the lights are usually on when you shower.  Then halfway
through the shower you realize it wasn't really a good idea because you
can't see the soap, shampoo, or washcloth, much less your own hand
right in front of your face.  Then you have to walk dripping wet across
the bathroom to flick the lights back on, making big puddles of water
which you later slip on getting out of the shower you were taking in the
first place.  

In that half-awake half-asleep state of euphoria, you dream that you are 
falling off a building, or out of a tree, or off a horse...just basically
falling.  You jump up really quick and curl up into a ball on your bed and
grab the sides so you won't fall off the building or out of the tree or
off the horse, but then you realize you're actually just in bed and you
feel like a complete ass because you weren't completely asleep anyway.

Whenever you think about blinking or breathing, you feel a strange
obligation to control it on your own even though its an involuntary action. 
Before you know it you're blinking 50,000 times a minute and taking big 
heaving gasps of air.  And when you realize that in order to stop you 
must stop thinking about breathing and blinking.  But when you're trying 
not to think about it, it keeps coming up in the back of your mind and 
you start blinking and heaving again.  It takes awhile to get over it. 

There are so many young kids named Ryan, but you never meet an adult with 
the name Ryan.  Are all Ryans sent to a concentration camp or a 
specialized Ryan colony in Madagascar or somethin? The only adult Ryan (or
in this case, Ryne) of note is former Chicago Cubs shortstop Ryne Sandberg. 
It's not even spelled right! Where are all the Ryans?