Matt is proud to announce the birth of 1999 Chevrolet Prizm.  Prizm has his father’s headlights and power locks, his father’s automatic transmission, parking brake, glove compartment, and rear-window defroster, and also his father’s air conditioning and AM/FM stereo.  A mutant gene resulted in power windows and a CD player.  The mother declined to identify herself or her contributions, but may have had something to do with Prizm’s 62,000-mile odometer reading.

After a month’s hard labor on Matt’s part, the birth attendants decided to extract Prizm surgically through the checking account.  Fortunately, there were no complications, except for a continued checking-account discharge . . .

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As you might know, my name is Kris. And I’m a guy. It’s short for Kristoffer. (Actually, if you’re reading this, you most certainly know these things unless you are very unobservant, as 110% of people reading this are either a friend, relative, or both.)

But I just found something out — Kris is a girl’s name.

A big part of my job includes inviting people to speak at conferences. And nobody knows who the hell I am. Here are some recent e-mail replies I’ve gotten (rest assured, I do sign my e-mails with my actual name, “Kris”).

This one . . .

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