Today
In a big local mall, in a show store, in the course of reluctantly buying a pair of shoes, I showed the top of my tattered and torn underwear to the three female clerks working there.
Trust me, it made sense at the time.
Well, it made sense to me.
On the other hand, I'm a man who did an hour-long comedy set with the title Mr. Poor Choices and didn't even come close to using all of my own bad choices.
Maybe there's a lesson here.
Nah.
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4 comments:
Picture or it didn't happen!
It did happen, but alas, no one took a photo. Sorry.
I have one word for you: reenactment.
I have two for you: pay me.
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