There is a song that I can not hear, for if I do, it won't leave my brain for weeks on end. I can't get it out, it just rattles around in there. And it's a bad song, which is even worse. And, I can't even repeat a single bar of it because if I do, I'll have to do an a capella version of it, and it will become stuck for weeks.
I was going to tell you the name of the song, but my fear is too great. Only a very few individuals know of this song. It's my kryptonite. Or it would be if I had any superpowers.
But, here is a really weird, embarassing secret: about 25 years ago, I used to work part time delivering pizza. Ok, that's not the embarassing part.
You know how lots of porn movies start with the pizza guy showing up?
Well, I have my own pornish story. It features nudity, and lots of innuendo, so please have kids leave the room.
Sadly, it does not elicit happy memories, ya bunch of pervs. It's one of those things I'd rather forget.
One night, my last delivery was to the nurse's station at a nursing home. A delivery to the nurses. Yeah, I know, this story is getting good. And everyone knows how much I like nurses.
Boom shakalaka mouw mouw.
I went to the nurses station, and waited for Nurse Hotstuff to pick up her dinner, when suddenly, I heard a female voice yell out, "Hey, come here!"
Woohoo, I thought.
I looked to my right, and who was busy stripping off her clothes?
You were expecting Pam Anderson?
I seriously considered becoming a monk that day.
And I really need some brain bleach, now.
Have a Happy Flag Day.