You're looking tired, like you tried to kill yourself again, you'll probably be strung out tonight

I was walking down the hall the other day when a flyer on one of the bulletin boards caught my eye. It was advertising 'Suicide Prevention Movie Night' and a showing of Jumping off Bridges, a movie about the stigma reduction of suicide. The movie was hosted by the university's women's center.

My advisor saw me reading it and said, "Boy, that looks like a good time, huh?"

Another guy passed and said, "You should go there. You could probably find some easy chicks."

I answered, "Well, that might not be a bad idea. There's bound to be at least a few with low enough self esteem."

I know I don't know you and you're probably not what you seem, but I'd sure like to find out so why don't you climb down off that movie screen?

Another year has gone by, and another Coachella music festival has come and gone without me being in attendance. I have nobody to blame but myself this year, as I had ample opportunity to go. A few of my friends went, and I was simply too much of a tightwad to buy a ticket and go with them.

I spoke to one of my friends this morning after he got back. He said it was a good time, and he got to see and hear a lot of good music. He also told me that I missed out.

Him: "You missed out BIG time."
Me: "Why's that?"
Him: "Well, there was a rumor that this was going to be happening, but none of us really believed it, but you know the movie Lost in Translation? The song that plays at the end of that is by The Jesus and Mary Chain. Anyway, people were saying that Scarlett Johansson was going to come out and sing a duet with them, and she did! I took pictures."

It's weird how my friend talks in links like that, I know! I keep trying to get him to quit doing it, but he won't.

Anyway, for those of you who may not know, Scarlett Johansson is on my list. You know the list. But just in case you don't know the list, she's one of my celebrity crushes. No matter what my relationship status is, if given the opportunity, I get to sleep with her with no repercussions whatsoever.

I'm sorry that I missed seeing her perform, especially in the cute little sundress she was wearing. But I have to disagree with my friend. I don't think I missed out BIG time. I only would have missed out BIG time if she'd been standing next to him in the crowd because then I would have missed out on a chance for some good old fashioned celebrity frotteurism.

I hope they cannot see I am the great destroyer

I have a student in one of my labs who has a pretty good sense of humor. He's very random, and is always writing extra things on his quizzes that make me laugh. The running theme for the semester is that he gives himself a "new" middle name on every quiz that he turns in.

Here are some examples of what he's come up with:
- Rockstar
- Infectious Mononucleosis
- Dodgeball
- Calvin Klein
- Forgot the answer to number 4
- Jetpack Sausages
- Hardcore to the Maximum Extreme
- Rescue Ranger
- Hello Kitty

After a few weeks, I decided start making up new middle names for myself for each quiz that I returned to him.

Here are some that I've given myself:
- Papa Smurf
- Supersonic Overdrive
- Big and Important
- I write with pink pen
- My Little Pony
- Blitzkrieg Raider
- Don't you know who I am?
- El Bandito
- I hate riding unicorns*

Maybe I can work one of those into my new alias if/when I ever come up with one.



*I really do hate riding unicorns. They make me chafe. Even moreso than riding Pegasus does.

As she goes left and you stay right

As you all know by now, I'm basically retarded when it comes to dealing with members of the opposite sex. There's a girl I've been interested in, but haven't been able to ask out. I mentioned this to one of my friends, and then told him some of the things that she's said and done to get his opinion on whether he thought she was sending out signals.

His response was, "I'm going to smack you right now. Girls don't do stuff like that unless they're interested. Ask her to go do something with you."

The next time I talked to him I said, "I've got some disappointing news. You know the girl I wanted to ask out? She has a boyfriend."

"Really?" he said, "That's surprising because she seemed to be coming on to you pretty strong. There's got to be something wrong, like, maybe she's just a nice person or something."

I want a girl with uninterrupted prosperity who uses a machete to cut through red tape

My Roommate's Son: Have you met my aunt?

Me: No. Is she hot?

Son: Why do you always ask that?

Me: I just want to know.

Son: Well, people say she's pretty.

Me: Good to know. Does she put out?

Son: She's my aunt *punches me in the arm* and she's happily married.

Me: So? Rings come off. Besides, what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, remember?

Son: What would my dad say if you said that to him?

Me: He'd probably think it was funny.

Later when his dad got home I told him the story:

Him: That's pretty funny.

Me: See? I told you he wouldn't care.

Him: Maybe I should invite her out for a visit.

Son: How can you say that? It's your sister.

Him (to son): It's not my decision if they do anything, it's up to them. They're adults.

Him (to me): But I'd be happy for you.

Son: Arrgh!!!

Well I can tell you for the money the simple life honey is good

When I got out of bed this morning, my roommate was standing right outside my bedroom door folding laundry. It startled me to walk out of my room and almost bump into him because I wasn't expecting him to be standing there.

Him: I'm sorry. Was I being too loud?
Me: No. I just didn't realize you were out here because I didn't hear you at all.
Him: Well, I had to be quiet so as not to disturb the princess.

I'm sure his comment had nothing to do with this:



One of my friends gave it to me last night along with a couple bags of candy (my friends know me so well).

By the way, thank you all for the birthday wishes yesterday.

You know I'd even learn to cut my throat if I thought I could fit in

About a week ago, a friend's brother came to town for the weekend. They spent the first few nights doing some of the more typical "Vegas" things such as cruising around in a limo to see the sights, seeing one of the shows on the strip, etc. By Saturday night they just wanted to take it easy, especially since his brother's flight was early Sunday morning, so they decided on having a little get together at my friend's house that night.

Now, for a completely different subject that ties in later in this paragraph, I have a pair of shorts that I like to wear on days when I'm not planning on seeing anyone. I've had them for a while, and there's an atrocious rip under one of the back pockets, so my ass basically hangs out, but I can't bring myself to throw them away. I had them on that morning because I was supposed to meet my friend and his brother at the pool earlier in the day and figured it wouldn't matter because I would just be changing into my bathing suit then. I thought I would just shower and change between the pool and his house so I could show up looking somewhat presentable. At least that was the plan.

The complicating factor for the day was that I nearly forgot about a meeting I was supposed to go to at noon. I didn't remember about the meeting until after I'd left the house to grab a few things from the office. I went straight to the meeting from the office, even though I was wearing my assless shorts (hey, at least they're not leather chaps). The meeting ran long, so by the time I'd finished there and called my friend, he and his brother were leaving the pool. He told me that the gathering at his house was still on and that I should show up around 7. I told him I would.

Of course, then I decided to do a favor for another friend, then she and I started talking about stuff and next thing I knew it was past time for me to have been at my friend's house. I still hadn't showered or changed clothes, the first of which I was able to take care of at my friend's house before we left (I even used some of her spray on deodorant), but the assless shorts were still on. I decided that it didn't really matter, so we just went to the party. Sure I didn't get there until 2 1/2 hours after I said I would, but that's just how I roll. I'm a lot like Paris Hilton in that respect.

While at the party I made some comment about the huge hole in the back of my shorts. My friend's brother replied, "You know what else is wrong with those shorts? They're denim." Another guy added, "Yeah. That's so 1990's."

I want to make it clear that I only have a few pairs of denim shorts, but not all of them are old and ratty. In fact, I believe I bought a few as recently as last summer. I really didn't know that they were officially "out of style" until that night last week.

Now I know I'm fucking old.

Sexy woman meet me after work, I wanna show you how I handle business, I wanna show you how the mailboy* flirts

I got this picture via text message from my sister:










Great, now I want to see whores.



*When my parents moved the family to Flaming Gorge at the end of my Junior year, the high school there wasn't prepared to offer me all the classes I needed to take. They basically had to create three classes just for me to finish my Junior year, and I took a bunch of college courses via satellite during my Senior year. However, there were only so many satellite courses offered, and I still had to fill up my day, so I signed up for an hour of being an office aid. My primary job was to walk up the street to the district offices, get the day's mail and sort it into the teachers' boxes. When my friends would see me carrying the mail tote Geppetto would yell out, "Hey look! It's the mailboy," and flieswithoutwings would add, "Isn't that a double negative?"

You're perfect yes it's true, but without me you're only you

A few weeks ago I was talking to a girl I know and somehow we got on the subject of her sister. She told me that her sister is a few years older than us, but is absolutely gorgeous.

Me: If your sister's that pretty then hook a guy up. Wait, she's probably married, huh.
Her: She is.
Me: Well, if she's looking to have a mid-life crisis, tell her I'm her guy.
Her: Actually, she might be. I'll let her know.

Since then it's been a running joke between us, and every time we run into each other I ask about her sister.

About a week ago I asked how her sister was doing and she told me that she was meeting up with her "gorgeous" sister later that night. I told her that my offer still stood.

Another guy I know overheard this and said, "You don't have enough lack of moral fiber to be able to pull something like that off."

Damn! He's right. The thing is, I'm not sure whether he meant that as a compliment or an insult.

Dance 'til you can't, dance 'til you can't dance no more

Last night I went with a group of people to a karaoke place. I don't particularly enjoy karaoke, but I figured that it would be better than sitting at home doing nothing on a Friday night, so I went anyway.

Karaoke is something that I would probably be pretty good at, since I tend to be able to sing a lot of songs (if I could remember important things as well as I can remember song lyrics I'd probably win a Nobel prize or something). However, since I don't drink, there's not much in this world that would get me to go in front of a large group of people and make a fool of myself (if I wanted to do that I'd just try out for American Idol).

At one point, someone went up and sang C & C Music Factory's Everybody Dance Now. People in the audience were really getting into it and started dancing all over the place.

My Friend: Just think, if you'd gone up and sang this song you'd have a bunch of girls dancing with you right now.
Me: Damn, why didn't I think of that?
My Friend: Sure, it might just be that transvestite, but who are you to be picky?

A smooth criminal

Yesterday when I called to tell my daughter happy birthday, my son informed me that their house had been broken into. Someone took the screen off one of the windows using a screw driver, and then came into the house.

That's a scary thing to think about, but luckily nothing bad happened.

My ex and her husband had left some credit cards and some money out on one of the counters, not to mention all the electronics they have in the living room, but none of that was touched. The only thing that was missing was a stack of self help books.

Seriously, who does that?

'Cause I haven't been too brave but mostly frightened

Thirteen years ago today I was in a hospital in a small town in northeastern Utah. I was reading magazine articles about death of Kurt Cobain, trying to take my mind off the wave of nausea that was bubbling up inside me.

I was scared. Scared of what was in store for me that day. Scared because I was waiting to experience one of the best things to happen to me in this lifetime.

I was anxiously awaiting the birth of my little baby girl.

It was a long wait.

At the time, we lived an hour and a half away from the hospital, so the doctor decided to induce labor the previous day to save us from having to make another trip. There were a few complications, but after approximately 19 hours the moment had finally arrived, and my life would no longer be the same.

She was the most beautiful little froggy looking thing with a smashed up face that I'd ever seen. At 9 lbs. and 20 1/2 inches she was rather plump. Plump enough that when my car wouldn't start in the parking lot and my mother had to make the drive to pick us up at the hospital and take us home, her cheeks jiggled with every little bump in the road. As my mom drove and I watched her cheeks jiggle, car problems were the farthest thing from my mind. I was a dad.

A lot has happened over the past thirteen years. After several moves, two college degrees (with a third in the works), two little brothers for her, and a divorce, I no longer live with my baby girl, and she no longer has the pudgy cheeks that jiggle in the car. But I love her every bit as much as I did then, if not more. Even if she does like to do strange things like wear aluminum foil on her teeth.


Happy Birthday Baby!!!

My little pony, my little pony, isn't the world a lovely place?

I want to share an email I got regarding my post about the dream I had the other night.

"i ate some my little pony fruit snacks yesterday...now i want to see whores. just thought you should know."

It's good to see the influence I have on the lives of others. It makes me feel as if I'm the rootin'-est tootin'-est* blogger west of the Pecos.




*I had the idea to work this into a post quite some time ago, but never did because Eric D. Snider** used it in something he wrote before I could (Damn I hate being scooped). I didn't want to plagiarize him, but then I decided screw it, I had the idea first*** and I'm using it, I'll just give him credit, especially for the spelling, so there you go.


**I would have linked to the exact place where he used it, but I couldn't remember if it was on his blog or in one of his Snide Remarks columns, plus I'm lazy and couldn't find it in the 30 seconds I just spent on his site. Feel free to look for it yourselves.


***I really have no proof that I had the idea first. After all, he could have thought of it years ago and just never used it until recently. I guess we'll never know.

The needle tears a hole, the old familiar sting

I know it's a cop out post*, but I've got nothing else. Plus I thought this was hilarious. It's Kermit the Frog doing a cover of Johnny Cash covering the Nine Inch Nails song Hurt.

I should probably warn you that if you have a soul you will probably find this offensive. I wouldn't know. I don't have a soul.





*My apologies to those of you who I already sent this to

Here's the thing that's so much more depressing than the infidelity itself

Last night I was listening to Pedro the Lion. A friend of mine gave me the album Control shortly after my ex-wife and I separated. Back then it suited my mood just about perfectly with its lyrics about infidelity, jealousy, revenge, etc.

Below are a few examples that I can think of off the top of my head (listed by song):

Rapture: This is how we multiply, pity that it's not my wife. The friction and skin, the trembling sigh. This is how our bodies move with everything that we can lose. Pushing us deeper still the sheets and the sweat, the seed and the spill. The bitter pill yet undiscovered. Gideon is in the drawer, clothes scattered on the floor. She's arching her back, she screams for more.

Penetration: If it isn't penetration then it isn't worth the kiss.

Rehearsal: You know I always said that I would kill you if I ever caught you stepping out. But now I see I did not know the half of what hatred and revenge were all about. Darlin' you are so unoriginal, each move more obvious than the one before it. I guess I could be bigger but I'd rather make you pay.

Second Best: Second best. Second best. I guess I can live with it. After all what's wrong with second best?

Priests and Paramedics: The neighbors heard a fight. Someone had a knife. It must have been the wife. Husband's lost a lot of blood, wakes up screaming, "Oh my God! Am I gonna die? Am I gonna die?" As they strap his arms down to his side. In times like these they've been taught to lie, "Buddy, just calm down you'll be alright."

I could go on, but I think you get my point.

Pedro the Lion is one of the few bands of which I own a t-shirt.



A different friend of mine bought it for me once he realized that I liked the band. I wear the shirt occasionally, and usually someone will ask about it. One day I was talking to him while I was wearing it when a girl asked me about it.

Her: Who's Pedro the Lion.
Me: It's the name of a band.
Her: Really? I've never heard of them.
My Friend: Oh, that's because [Minnow] and I are the only people in the world who have been able to listen to an entire album without killing ourselves.

The band broke up early last year, but the lead singer (and main artist behind it all), David Bazan, is still doing solo work. He's good, in case you're interested in some music that may or may not make you want to kill yourself.

Box full of letters - 5

To the woman who just hit on me while I was filling my car with gas:

Why couldn't you have been attractive? Why???

Sincerely,
Native Minnow

I almost feel sorry for what I'm going to do

The other day one of my friends cracked a joke about inappropriate email addresses (for the full story go here). In case you're too lazy to click the link, he joked that another guy's email was sexualpredator@hotmail.com.

It got me thinking about other inappropriate email addresses, so I've listed a few here. Feel free to join in on the fun by suggesting your own. Without further ado, here are the ones I came up with:

tijuanacrackwhore@gmail.com

junkiegirl@earthlink.net

genitalherpesguy@aol.com

USAnumberonecokedealer@yahoo.com

ZodiacKiller@comcast.net

polygamistwife12@us.gov

snufffilmdirector@gmail.com

10000blowjobsgiven@yahoo.com

racist1@hatemail.com

guiltyofmurderingmywife@aol.com

It's not the money, or the bloodstains on the wall, it's not my fault.

I had a very strange dream last night. I wouldn’t normally try to recreate something like a vivid dream for you, because I can hardly expect myself to convey all the details that make such a dream memorable, but I thought I’d give it a try just the same.

It’s that interesting.

Plus, it has the potential for bringing me monetary benefits as you will see shortly.

The part of the dream I remember began with me hanging out with a bunch of people I hardly know (in fact, one was a guy who I only know from reading his movie reviews online). We were at a strip club, so there were some boobies being flashed about, but that’s not what made it a memorable dream*.

A lot of the guys were buying lap dances, but I just needed to go to the bathroom. The movie critic told me that I didn’t want to use a strip club bathroom (probably good advice) and that I should just go to his place instead. Conveniently, it was right next door. So, I left and went to use his bathroom.

Now seems like an appropriate time to tell you that one of the members of our group had disappeared before I left, and the others were looking for him so they could buy him a lap dance.

When I went into the bathroom, I saw an empty box for a Spider Man invisibility suit. Makes sense, right? No wonder they couldn’t find the guy they were looking for. He was invisible! Anyway, I took care of my business and went back outside, only to hear the others calling this guy’s name (which I don’t remember). At that point I thought to myself that they could definitely get him to come out of hiding if they only had some My Little Pony toys to lure him out.

Then the My Little Pony song started playing. Except, the words were modified to the following:

My Little Pony makes you want to see the whores.

Then I woke up.

Do you see how this has potential monetary benefits? This will open up a whole new marketing demographic for My Little Pony items. Instead of only being able to sell them to little girls, they will now be purchased by frat boys everywhere.

I’ll be expecting a fat check from Hasbro any day now.




*I’m a guy. Guys dream about boobies pretty much every night (and all day long as well). There's nothing unique about that!

Hardly education, all them books I didn't read, they just sat there on the shelf looking much smarter than me

This is a sign that's on the door of one of the lecture halls on campus:



I think it illustrates this state's views on education rather nicely.

Man I ain't changed but I know I ain't the same

In case you needed further convincing that Vegas is a weird place, here are a few of the conversations I overheard* in the past week or so.

Two guys sitting on the patio at a bar:
Guy 1: Why are all the pretty girls showing up with dudes attached?
Guy 2: I know, that chick's hot.
Guy 1: Apparently they have a two year old together.
Guy 2: So, I'd still fuck her.
Guy 1: I would too. In fact, I'd do it with him right there watching.
Guy 2: (doubled over laughing)
Guy 1: I might even go for it on this table right here. Right in front of all you guys.

Two guys discussing their plans for the evening:
Guy 1: I think I'm going to go home. I have to bake a cake tonight.
Guy 2: Is that a metaphor?
Guy 1: For what? Jacking off?
Guy 2: ???
Guy 1: Well? That's the only prospect I have tonight.

Two guys who'd just passed a girl on the sidewalk:
Guy 1: Wow.
Guy 2: What, the heels?
Guy 1: The heels, legs, ass, breasts.
Guy 2: Oh, I didn't make it past the heels, legs and ass.

Two guys in the hallway of one of the buildings on campus:
Guy 1: Well, I gotta go and take a crap. Wanna come? You into that?
Guy 2: No, I think I'll be alright.
Guy 1: You're not into any of that stuff? You don't have any German sheizer fantasies?
Guy 2: Dude, I do not need you to squeeze out a Cleveland steamer on my chest.
Guy 1: Alright, suit yourself.

A guy and a girl discussing Easter plans:
Guy: I didn't even realize that Easter was coming up this soon.
Girl: Well, you're not Catholic so you don't have Lent to worry about.
Guy: What did you give up for Lent anyway?
Girl: I gave up smoking so much weed.



* I refuse to disclose whether I had a part in any of these conversations or if I was just a casual passerby.

Hippity-Hoppity Happy Easter Day

True or False. Spending a good portion of the evening on Easter Sunday gazing at the following view means that you're a pathetic individual.

Hang down my umbilical noose so I can climb right back

A friend of mine hosted a two-on-two basketball tournament yesterday. Initially, he wanted to make sure that those of us who play on a regular basis were on separate teams in order to keep it fun and not too competitive. However, as the tournament approached, he decided to let anyone that wanted to play pair up, regardless of skill level, just to make sure that there were some teams. That's how I was able to form team Shake 'n Bake with my friend Piz.

Our game plan largely consisted of coming up with uniforms (white wife beater shirts and Mardi Gras beads) and memorizing lines from the movie Talladega Nights to use as trash talk.

For example:

- We're gonna' come at you like a couple of spider monkeys.
- One of you turds is about to get smacked in the mouth.
- I'm the best there is, plain and simple, I wake up in the morning and I piss excellence.

Yeah, we're annoying.

Piz and I were talking the evening before the tournament:

Piz: Are we going to win this basketball tournament tomorrow?
Me: Of course.
Piz: Is that going to help us feel better about our lives?
Me: I certainly hope so.

We won the tournament, and while I can't really speak for Piz, it didn't help me feel all that much better about my life. Maybe it's because we don't have the trophy yet.

There were a lot of people who didn't play but showed up just to have fun watching the games, dying Easter eggs, barbecuing, etc. I'm only bringing this up so that I can tell you one of the funniest things I heard all night. My friend's daughter asked what color of egg I wanted, and then dyed one red and yellow for me. When they left, they took most of the eggs with them, but I made her leave mine. I was carrying it around, saying that nobody could eat it because it was my egg, when a guy made a crack about my masculinity.

Him: Your egg huh? You know, most guys wouldn't be able to say that.
Me: It is my egg. I keep it in my vagina.
Him: A vagina is not a fanny pack.

A hierarchy, spread out on the nightstand

I went to dinner with a friend, and for some reason the server brought us an extra straw.

Him: You want to split this?
Me: No, you can have the whole thing.
Him: No thanks, I've had my fill of plastic.
Me: What goes on between you and [your girlfriend] can just stay in the bedroom. I don't need to hear about it.

Later when we were leaving the parking lot I had to swerve to avoid running over a broken bottle. He was looking down when I swerved, so kind of gave me a funny look when I did.

Me: I'm just trying to straddle that broken glass.
Him: If what goes on in my bedroom has to stay there, then I don't want to hear about what goes on in yours either.

Darling, come here

Yesterday I was walking across campus with a friend, and a girl that was walking toward us walked onto the grass to pass by.

Me (to my friend): I didn't mean to run her off the sidewalk like that. I thought there was plenty of room for both of us.
Him: There should have been plenty of room, but even so, you should feel bad. She had a pretty face.
Me: She had a face? All I noticed was her nice cleavage.
Him: It was nice.
Me: Maybe that's what made me run her off the sidewalk. It's like when you're learning how to ski and they tell you not to look at the trees or else you end up running into them. Don't look at the cleavage or you're going to end up there.

I'll give you something that you won't forget

Yesterday some of my friends and I went to watch the NCAA basketball final. One of them called earlier in the day to let me know that he was still planning on going, but that he was going to be late. I had been playing basketball earlier, and my voice sounded a little weird (mostly because we were playing one on one and I'd been running around more than usual so I was coughing stuff out of my lungs).

Him: Are you ok? You're not getting sick are you?
Me: No. It's just because I ran more today. You know how you get that crap coming up in your throat?
Him: Semen? No, I'm sorry, I don't know anything about that.

He's such a liar!

In a car underwater with time to kill

At the mid-point of every semester there comes a time when students begin to worry whether they should remain enrolled in certain courses. Those courses are usually their most difficult ones, and that time is usually the week of the drop deadline (a.k.a., the last day to withdraw from a class you're failing without actually receiving an F on your transcript).

As the drop deadline looms, students usually approach their professors to see what chance they have of redeeming themselves and somehow salvage their grade. These students are usually willing to do just about anything except the one thing that is sure to help them, put more effort into studying (well, maybe they're not willing to do anything, but I'm sure some would even go there).

I've heard professors talking about this several times. They aren't really allowed to tell a student "yes, you should drop" or "no, you can still get a passing grade so you should remain enrolled." They just have to lay out what the student would have to do to salvage their grade. The student then has to be the one to make the decision.

Perhaps my favorite piece of advice came from one professor who said that sometimes, after laying everything out for them, you just want to look at the student and say, "I can't really tell you what to do, but if I were in your position, I'd probably go kill myself."

Ocean Man

When I was an undergraduate I worked part time in the fishing department of a sporting goods store. It was a relatively easy job, and it allowed me to justify flyfishing a couple times a week rather easily (as if I really needed much of an excuse to put off studying if there wasn't an exam looming in the immediate future), so even though the pay wasn't all that great, I enjoyed it immensely.

When you work at a place like that, everyone that walks through the door assumes that you are an expert* on everything the store has in stock. I learned how to flyfish 15 years ago, but I'd hardly call myself a flyfishing expert, let alone an expert in all types of fishing. However, in such a situation you hear enough from co-workers, customers and sales representatives that you do get an idea of what the quality products are, and which ones are junk. It was only because of this that I felt comfortable talking to people about what products to buy.

One day a woman and her son came in to see about purchasing a new reel for him. The son was in his 30s, and had an obvious mental handicap. The woman explained to me that her son really liked to go fishing, and she needed to buy him a new reel because his old one had broken. She went on to say that she didn't want to buy something cheap because he would break it very quickly if she did, but also that she didn't want to spend a lot of money because no matter what she bought, he would probably end up breaking it anyway.

I showed her a couple of reels that people seemed to be really happy with, and as I was explaining the differences to her, her son kept bouncing up and down in the background yelling, "I BROKE MY 'NUTHER ONE!"

I continued on and was somehow able to keep a straight face until she left with her son and his new reel. Forget moving out on my own, forget my divorce, forget moving 350 miles away from my kids, not bursting out into laughter on that day is the hardest thing I've ever done.



*I, on the other hand, correctly assume that most salesmen are not experts. After all, a true expert would be making a LOT more money doing something other than working in a retail store for little more than minimum wage. No, salesmen are only interested in making a sale, and are going to tell you whatever you want to hear in order to make that happen.