The Simulatrix
RaisingDad by Jim and Henry Duchene The Simulatrix “where’s Neo When You Need Him?” Every morning when I wake up I have to blow my nose. Maybe it’s my allergies. Maybe it’s my CPAP machine. Maybe, since my nose runs and my feet smell, I’m built backwards. Whatever it is, more often than not, when I toss the tissue into the small trash can my beautiful wife has thoughtfully provided, the tissue doesn’t make it in and I have to bend over, pick it up, and sadly come to terms with why I never played in the NBA. I could understand this happening once in a while, but the MAJORITY of the time? What are the odds of that? I was an average basketball player in school, so I should be able to negotiate the three feet from my hand to the inside of the trash can, but something always happens. It bounces off the rim, it catches a nice breeze, it gets invaded by Putin. That got me thinking, I must b...