If anybody needed to be slapped with a fish, it was Duane. Duane's that peculiar sort of acquaintance who'll probably never matriculate to full-fledged Friendster status. Not that the herb is too cool for school or anything, but there's a reason why it's prudent to keep the Duanes of this world at arm's length. How he ever found a woman to marry him is... well, it's beyond me.
There's simply no accounting for taste.
In short, Duane's a decent person and all, and he and the Skeet have been buds for a few years; but if I woulda been, say, watching the game with Skeet and Duane the first coupla times Dawn and I met, I'm not so sure she and I'd be together now.
And not that Dawn's a snob: she's not. And not that I myself haven't been around the block a time or two: I have. It's just that during Duane's five or ten times around the block, he's been dragged, hanging off the tailgate, two or three of those times. And you can see it in his face.
Or, like today, hear it in his voice....
BACK to where you were
BACK to where this whole "Assault at Wal~Mart" began
OVER to where the above was excerpted from
OVER to HerbNation HOMEPAGE