Chick flick – When you flick a young chicken across the room

More bang for your buck – prostitution

Steal my thunder – Zeus would often accuse people of this

Take a back seat – Rosa Parks declined

Better late than never – said the captain of the rescue ship sent to find the Titanic

Cool as a cucumber – When you think you’re cool, but you’re not at all
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Chip on your shoulder – When you wake up after a long night of drinking, and you find an old Pringle resting on your shoulder, so it becomes your breakfast 

Boy was depressed mainly because his mother and father had decided to name him “Boy.” As a seven year old child, Boy ran away from home, but he only made it to the next door neighbor's front yard. At age nine, he attempted to steal all his parents' savings, but he took all the fake money from the family's Monopoly set. He didn't get very far with that. He was not thrilled with his life, but he was often too dumb to make any changes.

After graduating from Winthrop University in South Carolina, Boy decided to ‘find himself.’ His therapist in college told him it was the right thing to do. He had spent four years at Winthrop completely wasting his time. He received his MBA in Undeclared, and he had a minor in plumbing. He never held a job, never explored internships, and had essentially zero extracurricular activities. He was often seen visiting the campus library, but he is illiterate so no one is quite sure what he was actually doing over there. He made no friends and never talked to his professors. When it comes down to it, all Boy did there was waste his time.

In order to find himself, he decided he needed to go elsewhere. Get out of South Carolina. Get away from Mother, Father, and Cousin. Cousin was Boy’s younger brother and was often a burden on the whole family. Boy decided the best place to find himself would be in Syria. Had Boy not been so illiterate, he probably would have known that Syria is not the best place to visit right now. But once Boy had an idea, he followed through. That was about his only good characteristic.

When he stepped onto Syrian lands for the first time, Boy was mesmerized. He’d never seen anything so beautiful in his entire life. He had a cute girlfriend once, but that didn’t last long.

He flew into the Aleppo International Airport, and he really did enjoy his flight. The only downside of the trip was when he pulled out the Planters Peanuts he had packed in his carry-on bag, the woman next to him swatted it out of his hands due to her apparent peanut allergy, or just plain distaste for Planters Peanuts. The last time he boarded a plane was when he was in Mother’s womb on the family trip to Italy.

Boy was not aware that the majority of people he would come across spoke only Arabic, but he was a very expressive kid, so he got by okay. The nearest Airbnb available was all the way over in Beirut, so he decided to crash with some college kids at the University of Aleppo. They couldn't understand him, but they thought he was funny looking, so they kept him around. Boy often hung out throwing the frisbee and playing bocce ball during the days. On weekends, he would go to the local pool with his new friends. He became close friends with Rasheed, who kindly let Boy sleep on his floor. They had no air mattress, but Boy found it quite comfortable.

Boy and Rasheed were competing to make the best staircase on an Etch A Sketch when Mother called. She said she wanted him to come home immediately because she read the headlines on Al Jazeera and became worried that Syria might actually be dangerous. Boy made the counterargument that nobody in South Carolina had ever wanted to play Etch A Sketch with him, but Mother was not persuaded. Boy put up a good fight while keeping his voice steady. He had a strong thesis and made all his points clear while providing evidence and a conclusion sentence for every point he made. He really did learn something in college after all. But Mother had made up her mind.

"So you can make up your mind, but you can't make your bed like I can," said Boy.

Making his bed was one activity Boy had always been exquisite at. But Mother did not appreciate this comment one bit. She told Boy she was booking him a flight home as they were speaking, but the website of the Aleppo International Airport was in Arabic, a language Mother was not well-versed in. She had intended to figure out the language, but she never did. She was taking basket weaving classes Monday through Friday while raising her youngest son, Cousin, so she was never able to spend the time she needed with Rosetta Stone.

Feeling liberated, Boy was able to clearly make the superior staircase on his Etch A Sketch. Rasheed was a competitive lad, so this grinded his gears. Rasheed told Boy he also sucked at bocce ball, but Boy didn't understand a single word. After slamming his Etch A Sketch on the ground, Rasheed told Boy he could no longer stay in his dorm room. Due to the language barrier, Boy did not receive this message well. He understood Rasheed was angry, but he figured he would patch things up when they returned to the dorm.

That evening, after supper, Boy walked over to Rasheed’s dorm. Hearing the knocking, Rasheed opened up before slamming the door in Boy’s face. Dumbfounded, Boy kept knocking. He knocked and knocked but to no avail. He sluggishly walked out of the dorm and into the streets where he continued to sulk.

​What happened to Boy, nobody knows for sure, but chances are he is still sulking in Syria. The last sighting of Boy was on the front page of Al-Thawra, a Syrian newspaper. He had unknowingly been participating in a protest against Bashar al-Assad, the Syrian president who Boy thought had died years ago. 

​I saw an ad in the paper for Arnold Jimmers, the man who predicts the past. Looking on Yelp, I read one five-star review after another. The man was loved and was hailed as the greatest palm reader of all time in the Tri-state area. On a Friday night, I made the decision I would give it a shot. I’m a very superstitious person, but I am also very suspicious of these things, especially when they receive auspicious reviews. I set my alarm for five o’clock in the morning so I could guarantee to be the first in line. Dr. Jimmers opens shop at nine o’clock.  I pulled my Star Wars sheets over me, and I fell right to sleep.

When an alarm wakes me up, I wake up angry. This morning was no different. I grabbed my alarm clock and hurled it across the room, straight into my lava lamp. Both objects exploded, so I jotted down in my to do list to make a trip to Kmart to replace these items later. I put on my cargo shorts, my loafers, and my bucket hat, and stepped out the door. I was so angry that I forgot to eat breakfast, so when I felt my stomach rumble, I let out a scream on Third Avenue.

When I arrived at Dr Jimmers’ “Predictions for Winners,” I found that I was just slightly too late. I was third in line. The first guy in line was a loser. He was picking his nose, and he wasn’t even doing it right. The woman between us was hideous. She was wearing makeup but it was more like she drew on her face with crayons.

We had to wait for hours before the place opened, but there was no chance I was going to start a conversation with these two dweebs. To pass the time I thought about this Ted Talk I watched the other day on YouTube. I thought about it because I’m pretty sure the man who delivered the speech was also named Arnold. He talked about how you can calm your mind and control it. He said that if you wanted to never feel angry, you don’t have to. You can channel your awareness where you want it. So if you’d rather be happy, switch your mind away from anger to something pleasant. I thought about this for a while, and I thought it made sense. But I like my anger. It gives me something to do. If I didn’t get angry and shatter my alarm clock every morning, then I wouldn’t go to Kmart every day. What would I do with all that time?

When I finally turned around, there were hundreds of people behind me, all lined up to see Dr. Jimmers predict their past. People were wearing pants, dresses, swim trunks, everything you could imagine. All to see what Jimmers had to say.

At 9:15am, it was my turn. I was excited, but I was still suspicious. Jimmers was a slender man, about 6 foot 4. He had a confident look on his face. I think he’s Cuban.

I put out my hand, and he started rubbing it with oils. I could be wrong, but it smelled just like the Aveeno hand lotion I have back home. He coughed four times on my hand, which I felt must be unsanitary, but I went along with it. He then sneezed on my hand, and that’s where I drew the line.

“What was that!” I yelled. I wish I said something better than that.

“It’s part of the process,” Jimmers said. His eyes glimmered, but I really think this was all a hoax.

“You’re a pathetic slime nut!” I really had him there.

“Just ask me a question, son.”

I hesitated.

“Fine. Why did Carol leave me?”

He stared at me for a moment.

“You know why.” He had a soft smile, and he motioned for me to leave.

I looked at him for a solid four seconds, and then I walked toward the door. Then, I remembered Carol telling me she was going to leave me if I broke one of her alarm clocks ever again. And boy, did I do just that.

​“You really are the real thing Dr. Jimmers,” I said. “You really are.”

You are what you eat – cannibals

Round Robin – Batman sidekick’s nickname in high school when he put on a few pounds

Cold Turkey – A wild turkey who stumbles out of his home into the night, forgetting to put on a fleece

Close, but no cigar – When you vape, thinking it will be as cool as smoking a cigar, but it just isn’t quite there

Double Cross – Jesus in another dimension

All things must pass – a stance on immigration
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​A dog is a man’s best friend – someone who has no friends