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Lunatic Ravings!
Here's the setup: 11 pm in a Hy Vee somewhere in Omaha. Bob and I are at the checkout where he's going to purchase some products, most probably beer and rolling papers. The total is $9.17. Here's what happened: Bob takes a 10 dollar bill from his wallet and hands it to the cashier. He then asks her to hold on so that he can give her the 17 cents so he can get a whole dollar back. "Hey Bob", I say, "don't worry about it. Just take the change back." Bob's stubborn. "Nope," he says. "I always take a bill out of my wallet and try to replace it with another bill because THAT'S THE WAY I AM." Bob is finally done digging in the left front pocket of his jeans and he pulls out a handful of change. He starts to hand the cashier a coin at a time. I slowly drift off but suddenly become alert when I hear a tiny, high-pitched voice singing Abba's "Dancing Queen". I look around to hear where it's coming from, but can't. I look at the cashier and it's obvious that she hears it too. She looks down at the counter and her eyes widen. I look down and find myself looking at a dancing and singing pubic hair that had fallen from Bob's hand holding the change. Bob doesn't notice the dancing and singing pube because he's totally engrosses in trying to find the exact change. Dollar signs are dancing in my head. I also remember seeing a cartoon about a singing and dancing frog that would only perform in front of the man who found him, but would clam up when it tried to show it to other people. Not this scrawny little pubic hair though. It seems to like the attention as it dances it's way around the counter while continuing to sing. Bob finally finishes handing the cashier the change which she hardly notices because she too is enthralled by the dancing hair. Bob tells her to hurry up and give him back the dollar, which she does. I edge up to the pube ready to pounce and claim it as my own before the cashier comes out of her shock. Not to be, of course. Bob suddenly sneezes and the pubic hair flies away, lost forever. blame it on Bob who doesn't have enough manners to cover his mouth when he sneezes. What a dick. And know you know the story. Melissa B. needs your help. She's tired of chicken pimping and has just discovered that she's a long lost queen of Ireland and needs money to get back because she's an alcoholic but doesn't wear a bra. I think that's what she said. I don't remember it word for word, so sue me. If you want to help her, send me an email and I'll give you the address to mail in your donation. I received this email, and I don't know if this is a hoax, but I'm always ready for a quick, easy buck: ******************************************************
****************************************************** Sure.
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