I hope the new Superman film doesn't attempt to reinvent the wheel. We certainly don't need another retelling of his origin. It seems that's not the...
I enjoy cycling down Main Street on my bike with a banana seat, donning a Dallas Cowboy football helmet, and belting out "Born to Be Wild."
In the supermarket, I tend to overfill the cart with groceries and approach the checkout, only to excuse myself to pick up a forgotten item, leaving the cart behind.
When experiencing flatulence, I prefer to visit a downtown upscale hotel with an ongoing business conference, step into a crowded elevator, discreetly pass gas, and subtly pin the blame on a well-dressed gentleman.
After watching a movie, I take pleasure in misleading those in line for the next showing with a fabricated ending, exclaiming, "I can't believe the wife killed the leprechaun with a box of spaghetti!"
On certain mornings, I'm inclined to stand outside Dunkin' Donuts with disheveled hair, a five o'clock shadow, wearing a beer-stained shirt, a mismatched blazer, and untied tennis shoes, distributing business cards that proclaim "Lester Trask - Life Coach & Motivational Speaker."
As an Uber driver, I delight in the surprised reactions of passengers when I arrive with a Radio Flyer wagon, sporting my superhero Flash T-shirt.
Peyton Westlake lives in the United States with his understanding and saintly wife.