Tuesday's Edge: Go ahead, make my (dull) day

Life feeling uneventful? Craving a little adventure? We at Edge HQ have the answer.

No, don't get out of your chair (you'll make us look bad). Instead, close your eyes and imagine all the mundane details of your life framed in the formula of:

a cop drama.

You wake up tasting last night's pizza, remnants of which scatter your coffee table.

You throw them in a blender, along with milk, bourbon and whatever you can scrounge from your fridge. All right, tough guy (or gal), you're ready for the day. You knock over a garbage can slamming into a no-parking zone in front of the station -- oops, the office. Once inside you ...

Get a royal chewing from your boss. About the taxpayers. The reporters. The mayor.
Half of it garbled through the sandwich in your superior's mouth. All because you stapled your payroll form in the wrong place. Sheesh. Not only that, your next project pairs you with a new partner. A rookie. Fresh meat. You curse the newbie a blue streak (they don't call you "Dirty So-and-So" for nothing). Turns out the greenhorn saves your life, but not before you stop a robbery, foil some terrorists and talk down a ledge jumper on the way to your favorite hot dog stand (words to live by: no one puts ketchup on a hot dog).

Your partner is injured after saving you from stapling your thumb to that pesky payroll form. You chase the ambulance's tail like a bat out of (heck), upsetting a homeless person's shopping cart in the street.

At day's end, you head home only to find your spouse watching "Grey's Anatomy."

You hurdle the armchair, grab the remote and, in a sideways leap across the living room lasting several seconds, flip through all the channels provided in your basic expanded cable. When you finally land, your spouse tells you he/she can't take it anymore and walks out on you.

So you order pizza, watch some dubious videos you hope won't be heard through the thin walls of your crummy duplex and thank heaven your life is anything but dull.

The only thing missing is a zippy one-liner, something like, "Go ahead ... "

Stolen entire from The Oregonian.