I’ve got some complaints. First, why on earth would God install a worthless organ that does nothing besides rupture and cause complications? My appendix has yet to burst, but we are all ticking time bombs just waiting for the that day.

Consider this:

735,000 Americans have heart attacks each year.

680,000 Americans have appendicitis annually.

We know the purpose and necessity of the heart. Further, most of those heart attacks are preventable through diet and proper attention. But we can do nothing about our appendix and we don’t need it anyway. What’s up with that?

While we are examining the superfluous, what is the purpose of eyebrows? Seriously? If you look that up, you’ll only get hypothetical channeling of sweat and facial expressions. Facial expressions – seriously? What would we possibly be if we couldn’t furl our brows, knit our brows, or raise an eyebrow?

Just for giggles, watch this little girl discover her eyebrows.


And let’s analyze the other “purpose”. Unless you have a unibrow, what good is it to have them separated – leaving a gaping hole in the middle for sweat to pour through? They are as worthless as a bow-legged goalie.

So, the only actual functional eyebrow is the unibrow – that people pluck, wax, and shave to get rid of because no one wants to get caught with an unsightly unibrow.


When I was a boy, my hair was so blond that my eyebrows were nearly invisible. In fact, I’ve been told that I checked the mirror often for them and wouldn’t believe I had eyebrows at all. My hair has darkened over the years and sometime in my early forties, I was sitting in the barber’s chair when out of the blue, she asked, “Do you want your eyebrow hair trimmed?”

We were friends until the point where she crossed that line. I silently pondered her question, finally deciding that she wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t need them trimmed and I elected to have her do so.

But this caused a stirring of several questions. Why do they grow now? Why does God mock us with ridiculous extra hair as we age? I bought a shaver to take care of God’s little joke from now on. It has a guard so that I won’t cut them too close and most of the time I remember to check it.

Then one day, I discovered a purpose for eyebrows!

As with many scientific discoveries, it happened quite by accident. A check in the mirror showed many crazy hairs and I pulled out the shaver – you guessed it, without the guard. In an instant, my right eyebrow was gone. I stood there looking at myself in disbelief just like when I was a boy.

Once one is gone, you pretty much have to shave the other to even it out.

And there it is!

The purpose of eyebrows is to keep people from looking at you like you are a complete moron. Because when they are gone, people sure do stare.





How the Squatty Potty Has Me Doubting Everything I’ve Ever Learned

It started as a joke. I had never heard of this thing called the Squatty Potty, but anything with such a name must be investigated. When I went to Amazon and read the reviews, I was hooked – laughing my butt off. I slowly found myself believing that this might be a revolution in elimination. As a sample, I offer this haiku left by a satisfied user:

“Oh Squatty Potty
You fill me with endless joy
Yet leave me empty.”

There are many more – some that will make you howl with laughter and maybe pee a little, although the squatty potty won’t help with that. My research even led me to Dookie the Unicorn and this compelling ad:

Then I saw the price and this is where I leave you. I am not about to spend $25 on a piece of plastic no matter how funny and glowing the reviews! I made my final decision and thought it was over. Along came Christmas. I’m one of those people who is impossible to buy for. My dresser is full of bright t-shirts with pithy sayings. This year, my daughters went in together and, you guessed it, wrapped up a Squatty Potty for me. It was a joke, but no one’s laughing now.

Everyone tried it and let me just say, it works – Big Time! Believe the hype. I’ll spare you the details unlike some of those hysterical reviewers.

I do, however, have some major complaints.

First – Toilet time for a man with four children has always been somewhat sacred. I have done some of my best thinking in the lavatory and believe that I could have solved some of the world’s greatest problems had life not beckoned. And now it is gone. Average time with this product leaves just a few seconds for coherent thought.

Second – The thing is like a magnet. We have four toilets in the house and yet I find everyone moving to and in mine. The packaging should include a lock for the door.

Finally, and most importantly – Using the toilet was one of the first things I learned to do way back when my feet dangled from it. Now at the age of forty-nine I have discovered that I have been doing it wrong all along. What’s next? Is this an isolated situation? What else am I blundering?

  • Have I been breathing wrong all this time? Maybe if I had learned better I could breathe underwater… or through my ears.
  • Perhaps I walk wrong and if I perambulated differently, I could do it faster… or longer… or on my hands.
  • Would my penmanship could be neater if I had learned with my feet?


This is where I have a major issue with the Squatty Potty! It has me doubting everything I’ve ever learned. The very foundation of my life’s instruction has been shaken to the core by a little stool – okay, a lot of stool – and I’m not sure how to reconstruct my existence.