Have You Seen my Mug?

Johnny Cash may have hurt himself, but I lost my mug.

I put my cup down somewhere and I can't find it.

Oh, yeah, I did that the other day too.

And the other, other day.

And also a couple of days before that, too.

But it's okay.

I found the mug I lost the day before that.

It was right where I left it.

In the library at TP785.

The library uses the Library of Congress cataloging system.

I don't know why.

TP 785 is where you would find crockery.

Ironic.

Isn't it.

And not ironic like when Alanis Morissette says ironic.

Ironically.

Irony has nothing to do with goldy or bronzy.

Despite what a certain S. Baldrick might think.

The people here are awfully honest, though.

The mug was right where I left it.

But then, there's the mug I lost last week.

Could you email me if you've seen it.

Or call

Or text

Or IM

Sign language.

Anything.

There might be a reward.

It's a great mug.

It works really well keeping fluids inside.

Not like that other mug that let fluids leak all over my desk.

And my laptop

And my camera.

And that other guy's camera.

That was embarrassing.

I tried tying a string around it.

My mug, that is.

My camera has a neck strap.

It doesn't need a string.

It worked okay until that time I got on the elevator.

The string around the mug that is.

That worked okay.

The neck strap on the camera works pretty good too.

But we're not talking about that now.

Are we?

Are we?

I almost garroted myself.

Fortunately I remembered an episode of MacGyver where exactly the same thing happened.

That's where I got the string-tied-to-the-mug idea.

Unfortunately, the blast that freed me destroyed the mug.

But don't worry.

I still have about half a dozen others.

Mugs, that is.