It may be too late to cash in for the prize, but I still thought you might get a kick out of this.
Mother and I had just recently arrived in Los Angeles LAX airport to visit my uncle for Thanksgiving. My two uncles, the one from Florida and the one currently residing in LA, came to pick us up. After shoving our three [pitiful] bags into the trunk, we got in the car and set out to the house. Bored out of my mind, what with no one talking and the radio fried, I decided to strike up a conversation. "You know, I only recently found out Wal-mart sold both
douches and
douche-bags. But that got me thinking; I mean, what if you worked in the factory that manufactured those, and someone came up to you and said, 'What do you do for a living?'
'Oh, I manufacture douches.' "
I am so glad mother wasn't driving. If she had been, I'm relatively sure our front bumper would have personally met the cement median in the middle of the road. Between her hysterical laughing and the look she was giving me, I couldn't tell if she was annoyed with my saying something innapropriate, or if she was having a hernia.
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