Yesterday, I talked about how accident prone I've been in my life and I just thought I'd share a little of what I've been through.  I think that once you read this, you'll see that I'm not just saying I was accident prone.  I really was.

When I was born, I was circumcised.  They lopped off an inch of foreskin from my penis.  It was traumatic.  I cried and screamed a lot.  I don't remember it but I'm told I did this.  I'm still traumatized even today about it.  All I can think about is, "My penis could be an inch longer."

When I was around three, I liked to run.  I ran so much that an accident was bound to happen.  Once, while I was running like a crazed Forrest Gump, I tripped in the living room and landing forehead first on the edge of a round coffee table.  I had to get stitches.  I still have the scar in the middle of my forehead.  It doesn't hurt any more.

When I was seven, I bumped into a huge fire extinguisher at school and it fell onto my right foot.  It chopped off parts of a few of my toes and deformed them forever.  Two toes don't have toenails and another has one that's a centimeter thick.  Lovely visual huh?  Try cutting it.

I admit it, I'm abnormal when it comes to safety.  I don't know if it's because of nature or nurture, but for some reason, whenever there's a hint of danger, I opt for the safe way to do things.

Depending on how you look at it, this will either appear stifling or sweet, but when I was dating wife number 1, I wouldn't go anywhere until she buckled her seatbelt (of course, this only worked when I drove).  She never wore her seatbelt, no matter what.  Not even in inclement weather.  Not even after she had an accident where she busted her lip on the steering wheel and cracked the windshield with her head.  She never gave me any reason why she hated seatbelts so much.  I blame her strict Catholic upbringing.  It was only natural she buck against the system as soon as she had her first taste of freedom at college.

I heard someone talking yesterday about how this pastor and his church owned half a city block and had a membership of more than five thousand people.  By "Big City" standards, that's small but by my little country church standards, it's huge.  Too huge.  It seems to me that big churches have become big business in America.

In Europe, way back in the time before the Knights Templar, the Catholic Church was the only game in town if you weren't Jewish.  It was the epitome of big business, affording special privileges and tax-exempt status from the Kings and Queens of the land.

I have some simple advice.  And since I've been married twice and freely admit to my mistakes, you can take it for what it's worth.  I can safely say that even though both marriages ended in divorce, I learned a lot during those relationships.  One tidbit I've gleaned is to always, no matter what, use separate bathrooms.

Marriage is a solemn vow between two people to spend the rest of their lives together, till death do they part (or one party changes her mind, whichever comes first).  During a marriage, you share everything with each other.

Holidays.  Ambitions.  Desires.  Goals.  Housework.  Pepperoni pizzas from the place down the street when neither of you feels like cooking.

And a bathroom.