Most of the parties I've attended have been pretty dull affairs. Most people stand around chitchatting and making small talk while thinking about excuses to go home. I have devised a way to make parties more interesting and amusing for myself and it will most certainly give the other party goers something to talk about when you are gone. Rather than explain the technique, let me just show you by using examples.

You show up at a party and find that the only person you know is the host. Pick out someone and introduce yourself.

"Hello. My name is Roland"

"Nice to meet you Roland. I'm Fred.

"So, what do you do for a living Fred?"

"I'm an accountant, and you?

"I'm a garbage man."

Another person walks up and Fred makes an introduction. "Hi Sam. I'd like you to meet..."

You immediately interrupt Fred and say, George... George Garth."

Fred will say, "I thought you said your name was Roland."

"Why would I say my name was Roland? My name is Hancock McGlicky."

"Hancock?"

"Yes."

"Okay. Well, Sam, this is Hancock."

Sam will say, "Nice to meet you Hancock."

Wanting to get back at you for your antics, Fred will say something like, "Hancock tells me he is a garbage man."

This is when you say, "Well Fred, I wouldn't exactly call polymer science 'garbage' unless you're talking about my research developments in the extraction of plastic recyclables from the ocean and the effect of polymer pollutants on the ecosystem. In that case I guess you could call me a 'garbage man.'" At this point you'll want to chuckle slightly and give Fred a friendly pat on the back before turning towards Sam to say, " Nice to meet you Sam. Fred has told me so much about you." Fred will naturally say, "No I haven't."

You say, "Now Fred, don't be modest."

Sam will probably ask, "So how do you and Fred know each other?"

"We fought in the war together."

Fred will respond with, "What? Look Sam, I just met this guy…"

Don't be afraid to interrupt Fred with, "Sam, you have to forgive Fred. He just hasn't been the same since the accident."

"I haven't had any accident!" Fred will say.

"Give Sam an all knowing look and lower your voice as you say, "See what I mean?"

Before things get out of hand, now would be a good time to come up with a good excuse for leaving. "Will you look at the time. I have to get home and ice down my cat before the Jello sets up in my bathtub. Sam, again it was nice meeting you and Fred, don't forget about our lacrosse game on Friday."

George Garth, of Newton, Maine, has found an interesting way to housebreak his dog. The dog, named Spivey, had used the bathroom in every room on Mr. Garth's home and was not responding to any housebreaking techniques when Mr. Garth decided that enough was enough. The decision was made that Spivey could no longer reside in the home and Garth drove the animal twenty miles into the woods and dropped him off. Within a day, the animal had returned.

"I was so amazed that the dog was smart enough to find his way home that we decided to give him another chance," said Garth. However, Spivey continued to use the interior of the home as his toilet. "I couldn't take it anymore. I mean, my house smelled like France."

It was then that Mr. Garth loaded Spivey into his pickup truck and drove him all the way to Delaware before dropping him off once again. "It took him three weeks to find his way home this time but he did it. I figured I owed him one more chance but the stupid dog kept going in the house."

Garth bought an airline ticket, transported Spivey to southern California and sold him to pharmaceutical company for use in animal testing. Nine weeks later the dog was back home. "I couldn't believe it. I mean, this dog got away from a highly secure laboratory facility and made his way across the country to find his way back home. I figured that dog must really love us and I knew there was only one thing to do. I shot him.

Moments after the confirmation of the shooting, county sheriffs deputies swarmed the Garth residence and apprehended Mr. Garth to inform him that his dog has been officially entered in the Guinness Book of World Records for longest distance traveled by a canine to find it's way home. Spivey had beaten the previous record by three miles. The previous record holder, simply known as Spot, returned to his owner seven times before his master finally moved out of the country to insure that Spot would never find him. Spot drowned in his attempt to cross the ocean.

Having a three-year old, I realize that small children have a philosophy of "If I see it, it's mine." The following is a short story that backs up this truth.

My brother was about five years of age when my mother observed him playing in the yard with a toy truck she had never seen before. She decided to investigate the matter and asked him where he got the truck.

"I stole it."

"You stole it?"

"Yes," He calmly went back to playing with the truck.

"Who did you steal it from?"

Continuing to play and without looking up, my brother answered, "I stole it from the neighbor kid down the street."

"Well, you have to give it back and apologize for taking it!"

"I stole it and it's mine," my brother innocently replied."

"No it isn't yours and you have to take it back!" My mother dragged my crying brother, along with the truck, to the neighbor's house.

"Tell them you are sorry for taking the truck."

"No! It's mine!"

"Tell them you are sorry for taking the truck."

"No!"

I don't think my brother ever apologized for taking the truck but then again should he have? I mean, the neighbor kid left the truck unattended. He wasn't playing with it. My brother obviously wanted to play with it and was putting it to good use. I say the neighbor kid should have just come over and stolen something that my brother wasn't playing with.

Perhaps the "If I see it, it's mine" philosophy is one that we should all live by. My neighbor isn't using his brand new sport utility vehicle. He's left it in his driveway unattended. I think I'll take it to the beach for the weekend. Hope mom doesn't see me.

My wife has an unusual relationship with one of her doctors. They will talk at length over the phone and trade jokes and anecdotes with one another. I accompanied her during one of her visits when they began discussing transplanting organs that one would not ordinarily think of transplanting. For instance, the doctor mentioned that a mans prostrate gland is entirely in the wrong place. I had to agree with him when he said that it would be much more convenient if the prostrate were located somewhere along the forearm. I must say that I think it would make a prostrate exam a little more comfortable.

At this point my wife asked why you don't hear about people having uterus transplants. She made the point that liver and kidney transplants are quite common and that a uterus transplant would help many women who couldn't have babies. "Why not just transplant the whole works for women who have had total hysterectomies?" she said.

The doctor said, "And you wouldn't necessarily have to put the uterus where it normally goes."

"Where would you put it?" I asked.

"How about under an arm?" he said.

My wife chimed in with, "Then you could determine how far along a baby was by how high the arm was raised."

I added, "And if someone asked if it was a boy or a girl, you could just lift your arm and say, 'Take a look for yourself."

I don't remember exactly what the doctor did for my wife that day but I do know that my wife paid for an office visit in order for me to get this story. Was it worth it? You tell me.