It’s so cute, the way your little Jessica jumps for the bow in my Chloe’s hair. Jessica has good taste, I can tell you that! Jessica is… what? Three? Oh, she’s four? So is my Chloe! They must be in the same class at Key School! No? Not in school? Oh. Well, Jessica’s only four. I understand. Chloe’s been in school since birth, but she’s 98th percentile in “attention adaptability” so we feel it would be irresponsible NOT to keep her away at school most of the time. They charge us four times as much, but it’s worth every penny.

Recently I celebrated the 29th anniversary of my birth, and my mother took it upon herself to to embarrass me at work. So, the day before my birthday, a family friend/co-worker wheels a giant SpongeBob cake back to my cube and proceeds to sing “Happy Birthday” loudly and off-key (bless her heart). Clearly, my mother

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Good morning or afternoon or evening or whatever. Welcome to the April 2012 issue of Defenestration, by far the greatest issue of Defenestration I’ve had the pleasure to publish in April 2012!

Since Defenestration isn’t a particularly large operation, Eileen and I act as both editors and slush readers. It’s an interesting experience. We get to see everything, absolutely everything, that pops into the in-box, without anyone filtering the content. We get to see the great, and the not-so-great, and the downright bizarre.

“Bizarre?” I hear you cry. “But you’re a humor magazine!”

Well, sirs and madams, when I say bizarre, I mean bizarre. And if you’ve ever read slush for a magazine, you know exactly what I mean.

Melissa’s guaranteed quick fix for depression wasn’t exercise, drugs, or food; it was George Clooney. On a bad day, she could close her eyes and summon him, and they would stroll in the park, go snorkeling in Key West, or sit in front of the fire and talk. His presence in her life, though imaginary rather than tangible, was essential.

George was happiness.

Unfortunately, the George-trick wasn’t working lately, not since her boyfriend Kyle moved out. The absence of both men left her heartbroken and numb, and to make matters worse, she now had peculiar new visitors.

He got the idea from a Persian Silk Tree in the backyard. It would make him rich; a patio umbrella that automatically opened when it rained. He spent a small fortune conducting research and building a prototype. A small circle that was three inches across at the top of the umbrella tied into some motors inside. When water landed on the circle, or wet mat as he called it, the umbrella opened with a “splong.” It had some wires sticking out, the edges where he had made cuts in the pole were rough, it had to be hooked up to a car battery, and it opened far too quickly, but it worked.