I would like to thank my low self-esteem.

They say it's good to set tangible goals for yourself; if you want to be successful in life, you have to know what you're striving for.

Well, I know I like entertaining people, so I've decided to write an acceptance speech for some big award that recognizes what a great entertainer I am. I don't know exactly which award I'll be winning, but I do know who I'd like to thank. So here goes...

Wow, this is such an honor! I've won an award! This is total validation of my worth as a human being! Whoo-hoo!

Man, when I was in kindergarten and peed myself because I couldn't undo the clasps on my overalls, I never thought this was going to be happening! And I bet my classmates who were laughing at me then weren't expecting this either. But I've been trying to make people laugh ever since.

Well... wow! So many people to thank... ummm... First and foremost, I'd like to my low self-esteem! Without you, low self-esteem, I would never have the drive, the spirit, the borderline-neurotic desire to please people. I mean, if I were well-adjusted, would I have the desire to debase myself in front of complete strangers? Not at all.

God! Who else? I'd like to thank all the girls in high-school who never talked to me. It was you that made me find new ways to get attention (cuz God knows I wasn't gonna get it for my looks!).

And Mrs. Giacometti! I can't forget you! Even after all the therapy! When we had a parent-teacher conference in sixth-grade, you told my parents I would never amount to anything. I guess I proved you wrong, which has been my driving motivation since I was twelve.

I also have to thank my utter lack of sports skills. You've been a constant presence in my life, utter lack of sports skills.

And how can I even begin to talk about sports without thanking the girl I lost to in a wrestling match freshman year of high school. And all the girls teams my CYO baskteball team regularly lost to in third-grade. Man, what memories.

Okay, okay. They're telling me to wrap it up, so I just have a list of people...

All the guys at bars who girls would rather talk to than me. All the job interviewers who never called me back. All the really, really, really awkward, embarrassing things I've done that I feel I have to make up for. Gosh, the list goes on and on.

Thanks to all the people who were funnier than me in college. I've now accomplished my one goal! In your face! Proof that people like me more than you! Yay!

And last but certainly not least, I have to thank drugs and alcohol. You guys were there for me when no one else was. And I know you'll be there for me again.

Thanks everybody! And keep loving me! Please! Please?

I don't know how to interact with children.

I'm spending this week up at Lake Tahoe with a lot of my extended family, who have all rented cabins within a few miles of one another.

Out of all my ten or so cousins, I am one of three without children. I'm also the youngest of the cousins, so when it comes to hanging out with people at these family gatherings, I find myself unpleasantly torn between hanging out with a forty year-old cousin who sells pharmaceuticals or his four year-old daughter who obsesses over cartoons I've never heard of.

The kids refer to me (I kid you not) as "the boy with the big orange beard." That's a confidence boost.

The other night over dinner in our backyard, one of the darling angels who calls me that said, "Hey! Hey! Hey! (She's a little hyper-active.) Hey! Hey! Do you know any jokes?! Do you know any jokes?!"

I said, "Sure. Knock, knock."

"Who's there?"

"Smell mop."

"Smell mop who."

Please say, "Smell mop who," aloud, because that's the punchline. Yell it aloud if you're in a confined space with other people. Please.

Well, these little girls that I told it to fucking loved it. Instantly. I guess my target comedic audience is people with one year of elementary school education.

My aunts, uncles, cousins, and sister were not so happy that I taught these little girls a bathroom humor joke. Even worse, the girls were screaming "Smell mop who!" at the tops of their lungs well past dessert time.

I don't know if the adults will let the kids hang out with the boy with the orange beard anymore.