I think it's about time for another story. For the record, if you want me to write a story about anything, and it isn't serious like a political thesis or one of Gagne's stupid assignments, and I can use some imagination, I will write about it. So, even if I don't know you, or you think I don't know you, I can help. I'm the one to comment to if you've ever thought, "Hey, I've always wanted to have a children's story read to me about Evil Canevil visiting the three Berstein Bears, jumping over the three little pigs' house and landing on the wolf, spoiling all his fun, then using the three grateful little pigs as test subjects in his state-of-the-art catapult, to take over King Arthur's castle and win back the holy Grail, BU-uhhhT one doesn't exist." I know how hard having to live through something like that can be, and the toll it can take on young children, teenagers, and adults alike. I'm thinking Keith, or Pat, or Ben, or Brian, or at least Phil will step up to the challenge (sorry girls, but you just have no imagination).

I'm too lazy to have to think up a story right now, but the offer has been made.

Anyway, I was eating at Taco Bull and one of the girls (because there are dozens who abound in my presence during lunch) I was eating with filled up a Pepsi cup, put on the lid and took out a straw. She jammed down on the cross in the center, but somehow missed and created a little white milky plastic dent in the lid. Then, she did it AGAIN and missed! She knew we were all watching so she got all frustrated and stabbed at the lid several more times, failing to penetrate the cross in the center. By now, the lid was taking some serious damage. It was in bad shape.

At that point, I gently took the straw away from her and slid it in the straw hole. Then I looked her in the eyes and said, "it's a good thing I'm the one with the penis."