In second grade, I was a skinny lad, with shockingly blond hair, wearing my trademark sweatpants with American flag patches on both knees. We were learning about the difference between facts and opinions. Mrs. Hunter would present a sentence like, “Johnny is walking to the store,” and we would identify it as a statement of [...]
Last time (look it up), with my dreams of clown college and clowning dashed, I found myself emerging from a haze of debauchery. My face hurt. You see, that first banana split in Denison was laced with banana roofies: a secret Jamaican extract that renders the victim extremely impressionable and unable to remember anything that [...]
You’ll recall from last time, I’d just dropped out of college, after learning my school engaged in deceptive recruiting practices. Then, with new resolve, I set about following my destiny. I shuffled down the lonely Nebraska highway—corn stalks rising on both sides, as high as an elephant’s eye. The elephant’s name, I later learned, was [...]
Some jerk writes: Dear Conlan, I know “This is Conlan”. But who is “this”? Your loyal questioner, Sasquatch Canada I guess that is a fair question, considering that present state of the economy. OK, Sassy, I’ll fill you, and the rest of the world, in on just who the This in This is Conlan really [...]