Dispatches from Suburbia

If I played an instrument, I would have a band called "The Simon Thomsen Sex Tape"; and other musings, rants, and disconnected ramblings.

Thursday, March 08, 2007

That's just nuts

Quote of the Day: "Men compelled by fear/ To praise, may be by fear compelled to hate."
-Seneca, Thyestes

Today I had no desire to be at work--it's midterm week, I'm exhausted, and we were slow anyway. I figured that discomfort might convince my general manager, Shelly, to allow me to leave.

"I have a dull pain in my left testicle," I said. "I might need to see a doctor."

Saying nothing, she walked away. I figured that guilt might convince her. "What if it's cancer?" I called to her. No response.

Later, I said, "I sure hope they allow me to keep my testicle after the surgery. Then I could bring it in jar and show it around." By this point I'd been bugging Shelly so relentlessly about the fake pain in my manhood that I think I even had myself convinced of my cancer diagnosis.

One of the girls that works the counter overheard. "You'd need to keep it in formaldehyde," she explained.

"You're right," I said, thinking about what I could do with my nut after the hypothetical surgery. "Or I could dehydrate it and where it as a necklace. I could just macrame some hemp. That be pretty sweet." Shelly rolled her eyes.

So I didn't get sent home. But with such engrossing conversation, the day went by in no time.


At 7:14 AM, Blogger mist1 said...

The hemp necklace image is burned in my brain. I hope I don't see anyone in a hemp necklace today. I will be forced to stare.

At 9:57 AM, Anonymous Kimberly said...

You're sick



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