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“You are one funny dude.” - S. Milton, some guy I know
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I never played football growing up because my mom wouldn't let me. I was accident prone enough without adding eleven guys to the equation, all in pads (read: armor)…
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As a child during the 70s, when sugar was cheap and inflation a virtual myth, we were privy to a selection of breakfast cereals that, like 60s rock music, can…
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I heard someone talking yesterday about how this pastor and his church owned half a city block and had a membership of more than five thousand people. By "Big City"…
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Cute and Cuddly Gismo. Wus.When I was younger, much younger, the movie " Gremlins " was released. I was twelve when we went to see it in the theatre…
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I have no ass. At all. I'm 35 and my ass has left me flatter than my mattress. It just took off one day without writing or saying goodbye....
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People can be divied into two types and it seems as if most women belong to that one group I don't. You know what I'm talking about, I'm talking about…
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I was hanging out with a bunch of guys watching the US Open on television the other week. We were watching the women's game (no comment) between Venus Williams and…
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In days long gone, the dinner table served as a gathering place for families. It was the social gathering site where the day was recounted over a hot cooked meal,…
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The Southern Biscuit.In the South, we take a lot of things in stride. If it rains on game day, we shrug and celebrate that at least we don't have to…
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Caution: Men Working My dad and I just finished a garden retaining wall / walkway project we started a few months ago. We worked on it diligently every weekend it…
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Written by Ross Cavins
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Thursday, 28 February 2008 08:53 |
 The First Knuckle Method. You've seen these people. We all have. The people that engage in some good old fashioned public booger mining.
That's my politically correct term for nose picking. I call it booger mining. Ingenious, huh? Conjures up visions of midgets with hardhats and lanterns, singing camp songs as they descend into the depths of a nasal cavity for another toiling day of mining. For boogers.
These people I speak of, they pick their noses in public. On the street. In a car. In a deli. In a bar.
My Dr. Seuss impersonation.
These public booger miners either a) don't care if you see them digging out a juicy green gob of goo, or b) don't realize anyone is watching them stick their finger in up to the first knuckle.
They think they have a personal shield around them that renders their actions invisible. Like going the speed limit in a car means no one can see them digging around for that slimy one that you can never really get a good grip on because there's no true nucleus. It's just a smushy gelatinous glob of mucus that squishes under your finger, then surrounds it like you're starring in a sci-fi movie.
These people think that once they get the elusive offender out, they can flick it away or wipe it on a hidden portion of their pants (or dress) and it never happened. Like it didn't count or something.
Like the five second rule when you drop a candy bar on the ground. If you pick it up quick enough, it never occurred. You can still eat it because you got it before the germs had a chance to know it was there and latch on.
But then again, you've got snot on your fingers, so why the hell are you so damned worried about floor germs?
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