So I'm shopping for a digital camera on Craigslist, when I decide what I REALLY need is actually some commissioned grafitti. Good thing this listing is on there!
WILL DRAW ANYTHING, ESPECIALLY GRAFITTI @ ANY PRICE!
The only information provided is:
IF YOU NEED A DRAWING FOR A TATTOO OR ANYTHING, HIT ME UP
Although, I shouldn't mock. Maybe if I'd known about this guy five years ago, my tattoo would look more like the fleur-de-lis its supposed to be, and less like marijuana.
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
Friday, February 6, 2009
Saved by the BBQ
A few weeks ago, I was on my way to Austin for a conference when I decided to pull over in a parking lot off the highway, so I could dig my allergy medicine out of my bag. This particular parking lot belonged to a local barbecue restaurant. As I'm digging, I notice flashing lights behind me. I received my first speeding ticket ever just a week prior to this, so I had been conscious of my speed on this trip, and I hadn't noticed that a police car was following me.
The state trooper slowly made his way to my window. He was your average Texas state trooper: a lovable fleshy lump of beige poured into a slightly beige-r uniform, who probably goes to church, spanks his kids, and super-sizes his combo meals. He informed me that I was driving 63 in a 50. I apologized, and said that the last sign I'd seen said 65, and I must have missed one. As I'm searching for my insurance, the following conversation ensued:
"Did you drive all the way here to go to Meyer's barbecue?" he asked, indicating the restaurant outside which I had parked.
"No sir, I'm on my way to Austin. I've never been to Meyer's, should I try it?"
He smiles proudly. "Well, some people say its the best in the country!"
"I bet it is! I think I heard about it on the Food Network or something."
"Do you like brisket?"
"Yeah, that's my favorite! Is that what I should order here?"
"Oh yeah, it's the best." He pauses, after checking out my license, clearly trying to decide whether a fellow brisket-lover should be punished. "Since you're not from around here, I'm just gonna give you a warning."
I thanked him, and he shuffled back to his car.
So, vegetarians: you might be healthier and more environmentally responsible than I, but I can bet you would have had to pay that ticket.
The state trooper slowly made his way to my window. He was your average Texas state trooper: a lovable fleshy lump of beige poured into a slightly beige-r uniform, who probably goes to church, spanks his kids, and super-sizes his combo meals. He informed me that I was driving 63 in a 50. I apologized, and said that the last sign I'd seen said 65, and I must have missed one. As I'm searching for my insurance, the following conversation ensued:
"Did you drive all the way here to go to Meyer's barbecue?" he asked, indicating the restaurant outside which I had parked.
"No sir, I'm on my way to Austin. I've never been to Meyer's, should I try it?"
He smiles proudly. "Well, some people say its the best in the country!"
"I bet it is! I think I heard about it on the Food Network or something."
"Do you like brisket?"
"Yeah, that's my favorite! Is that what I should order here?"
"Oh yeah, it's the best." He pauses, after checking out my license, clearly trying to decide whether a fellow brisket-lover should be punished. "Since you're not from around here, I'm just gonna give you a warning."
I thanked him, and he shuffled back to his car.
So, vegetarians: you might be healthier and more environmentally responsible than I, but I can bet you would have had to pay that ticket.
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