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Just because someone I care deeply about said VB was a little too slow (he and I are the Vladimir and Estragon of VB) and a little too serious just now, I thought we could all swap some stories of the amusing things that happen in our lives that aren't necessarily specific to veg*nism.<br><br><br><br>
Or you could just say something silly or amusing; whatever slices your bread man.<br><br><br><br>
Way I figure, we could all use a little amusement in our VB lives while we're waiting for pages to load.<br><br><br><br><br><br>
Here's my anecdote.<br><br><br><br><br><br>
This cute little African-American-Canadian girl came to the door last night; I only answered it because I was expecting my friend Matt otherwise I would have ignored her.<br><br><br><br>
We had the following conversation:<br><br><br><br><b>Angel:</b> Hi. My name is Angel and I'm from SAC [she pauses to look at her badge so as to prompt her memory] which is the Society For The Assistance of Charities [right there I'm thinking that a charity that helps charities sounds about as likely as a personal injury lawyer who genuinely wants to help people] and I am selling chocolate bars to raise money.<br><br><br><br><b>Me:</b> Oh, I'm sorry. We're allergic to chocolate.<br><br><br><br><b>Angel:</b> You can also donate one dollar.<br><br><br><br><b>Me:</b> I'm sorry honey. We're allergic to money too.<br><br><br><br>
This poor kid looked like I just told her there was no such things as Santa Claus. (Which, if you're reading this Angel, there isn't.)<br><br><br><br><b>Me:</b> Good luck, though, with raising money for your charitable charity. [Closing door] Bye now!<br><br><br><br>
And people sometimes suggest that I might change my mind about wanting kids some day.<br><br><br><br>
Cheers!<br><br>
TJ
Or you could just say something silly or amusing; whatever slices your bread man.<br><br><br><br>
Way I figure, we could all use a little amusement in our VB lives while we're waiting for pages to load.<br><br><br><br><br><br>
Here's my anecdote.<br><br><br><br><br><br>
This cute little African-American-Canadian girl came to the door last night; I only answered it because I was expecting my friend Matt otherwise I would have ignored her.<br><br><br><br>
We had the following conversation:<br><br><br><br><b>Angel:</b> Hi. My name is Angel and I'm from SAC [she pauses to look at her badge so as to prompt her memory] which is the Society For The Assistance of Charities [right there I'm thinking that a charity that helps charities sounds about as likely as a personal injury lawyer who genuinely wants to help people] and I am selling chocolate bars to raise money.<br><br><br><br><b>Me:</b> Oh, I'm sorry. We're allergic to chocolate.<br><br><br><br><b>Angel:</b> You can also donate one dollar.<br><br><br><br><b>Me:</b> I'm sorry honey. We're allergic to money too.<br><br><br><br>
This poor kid looked like I just told her there was no such things as Santa Claus. (Which, if you're reading this Angel, there isn't.)<br><br><br><br><b>Me:</b> Good luck, though, with raising money for your charitable charity. [Closing door] Bye now!<br><br><br><br>
And people sometimes suggest that I might change my mind about wanting kids some day.<br><br><br><br>
Cheers!<br><br>
TJ