Let me back up a few steps and start that over.

Most of my readership, it appears, are women.   I have no way to verify this, but judging by the emails that comes in, it’s almost always from ladies.

Notice how I didn’t say “the ladies” there?   Ugh, I hate that douchey phrase.   Anyway…

Probably the biggest reason for this is that I’m an advertiser with TheBlogess.   She is a fantastic writer, and has a similar sense of humor as me.   Every day, about 75 of her readers find my website for the first time.   It appears that this traffic is largely female.

So, about once a day I receive an email from one of these women telling me they like my site.   I love this, as often I am unable to validate myself.   They’re almost always married and with children, and never once have been single, blonde, living in Chicago, and with a respectable dowry.

But, sap that I am, any attention is good attention.   Let’s proceed.

I received an extremely interesting email yesterday.

A college professor from New Mexico named Jamie wrote this…

Hi D.J.,

I found the link to your site while reading Bloggess. I now have two favorite comedy writers! I’m taking a sabbatical from teaching to pursue a few other professional goals, but when I return to my classes, I plan to add your site to my recommended readings list -psychology of humor or abnormal psych your choice 😉 In the interim, I’ll be happy to forward on, and comment at a rate that’s somewhere between mysteriously random and cyber-stalker.

Carry on!

Jamie

Now, a couple of things.   One, I literally believe everything people write to me.   Is Jamie really a prof?   Sure, why not?   I’m not fact checking.     And does she really want to add my “dad’s dick” stories to her required reading list?   God, I hope so.   Put it right after the comprehensive dream interpretation work that Freud published.

But I suspect she’s probably just goofing on me.   I was a psychology student, and have the degree and everything.   I don’t remember studying anything to do with humor the entire four years.

Actually that’s not totally true.   In my abnormal psych class, we did these presentations in front of the whole class.   My friend, a woman, did a presentation on pedophilia.   In preparation she dressed up like Michael Jackson via the Thriller video – you know, the red military jacket, the aviator sunglasses, the sequined glove – everything.

Then, she started the presentation with, “Hello.   I am a child molester. ”

Now mind you, this was 1998 and Michael Jackson had already been cleared of his first pedophile charge.

So, that was sort of funny, I guess.

I started thinking that if this college professor is for real, and she really is going to have her students read my stories, then I would have to fly down there for a meet and greet.

How great would it be to show up and do a reading of my upcoming essay, “People Who Enjoy Popcorn Jelly Bellies Ought To Be Rounded Up and Sent To Bolivia.” (technically there should have been a question mark at the end of that last sentence but it looked weird – so, I’m placing it here. (?)   Ah, that’s much better.)

I’m totally not kidding about doing this.   Will 18 year olds dig my vibe?     Will they invite me back to their awful dorm rooms with posters of Peter Tosh smoking a huge joint?   Will they play frisbee golf with me on the quad?

And, most importantly, will they think I’m cool?

God, I hope so.

It’s been a constant intake of green chiles.   They put chiles in everything, which, to me, is most appreciated.

I’m a little bummed because I can’t think of one funny thing to write in this post.   So, think of this article as the last season of Seinfeld – it just isn’t going to make you laugh.

First up, for some reason, my mom and I ran into Mrs. New Mexico.   She was hanging out in dress and sash at the Museum of Folk Art.   But it’s not like anyone there was to see her.   She was just standing up against the wall all by herself.   It was sort of sad.

We walked out and I said to my mom, “We really should go back in and get a picture.   I feel bad for her.”

Plus, she was hot.

Next up is our hotel, the Hotel Santa Fe and Spa.   It’s very nice, and kind of trendy in a casually elegant sort of way.   They even do cool stuff like give you hollowed out bars of soap.   (and no, I did not end up making love to it)

Oh, and speaking of the shower, you may be wondering if I brought my shower gloves.   You’re goddamned right I did.   Actually, so did my mom.   We know what’s up.

Today we spent a full day in Taos hiking with a llama named Raja.   It was really fun, and there was a part of me that seriously tried to figure out how to own a llama once I get back home.   They’re great.   Llamas are a type of camel, but they smell way better and don’t have Arab types hanging about.

And lastly, what trip wouldn’t be complete without finding questionable roadside jerky?   Not this trip.   So, when I saw a sign that said, “Antelope Jerky Here!” I had to stop.   I don’t even know what an antelope is.   Seriously.   I know I’m five seconds away from learning on Wikipedia, but I have no idea on my own.   I’m pretty sure they have antlers.   That’s all I got.

By the way, if you can’t read that, I purchased both elk and buffalo jerky.   My mom, not two minutes ago came walking over in the hotel room and said, “That jerky stinks!”   I said, “Too bad!”

Tomorrow we go on another hike here in Santa Fe and then the next day is a full spa day in the mountains.   If you think I’ll be taking photos of me in my robe, you’d be right.