About a week ago I was almost forced to commit murder. I know, shocking right? It really wasn't my fault. I guess the main culprit would have been alchohol. No, I wasn't drunk, Raj, but this incident almost drove me drinking. Alchohol was the catalyst that drove a scantily clad mid fifties hillbilly, sporting an incorrigable mullet and a handlebar mustache, to sing, nay scream Devo songs at the top of his lungs in the middle of a gas station. (apparently the No shirt No shoes policy is obsolete in Missourri)
Don't get me wrong, I like Devo as much as the next guy but not particularly slurred at 200 decibels. And as if this wasn't enough, the inebriated serenader decided to throw an original song into the mix. The following are the lyrics as best as I can remember.

My baby's got a front butt
Its better than her back butt
My friends say I'm crazy nuts...

at this point I can no longer continue. If you get the gist of the song with these three lines then you can grasp where it goes from there. If you don't get it then thank the good Lord tonight at bedtime tonight.

Moral of the story? Drunk people stay the Hell away from me, and from anyone else for that matter. No one likes you.

P.S. Short people. Stop asking me to get things down for you. It is incredibly annoying and not at all flattering. I don't ask you to pick things up off the ground do I?

P.S.S At church this week a man stood so close to me that I am almost certain his genitals were on my leg. Gross.