It’s been a year of highs and lows (mostly lows since I stopped getting high).
In January, I bought red Twizzlers from Stripes before visiting a Clovis dentist.
As soon as I opened my mouth, he called 911.
In July I got arrested at Cattle Baron in Portales. After ordering fried catfish, I violated Sunset Menu rules by visiting the salad bar twice. I knew the rules, but tried to cheat by wearing my date’s brunette wig.
Unfortunately, I sneezed and it fell in the coleslaw.
While trying to explain to the manager that my highlights were natural, one of them dripped off.
In September, after winning 72 straight games of Words with Friends against an ex-friend, he accused me of cheating. (I will only confess to knowing he uses “Spot” for all passwords.)
In December, I traveled to Lubbock the night before an appointment, and Motel 6 assigned me a handicapped room. It was either because it was the only one left, or the way I looked after six hours of dodging Texans on ice.
I threw my back out practicing gymnastics in their bathroom.
I forgot to pack a razor, and bought a $1 package of disposables from Family Dollar on my way to the doctor’s.
After shaving in his restroom two minutes before my appointment, my face was so bloody he thought I’d been in a car wreck and called 9-11.
Even though I went for an ingrown toenail, my close shave cost $3,000.
Since I have insurance, the hospital asked me to come back for weekly follow-ups.
I’m nervous about attending a vegan Christmas Eve party in my east Texas hometown of Mt. Vernon.
I do dairy, and they remember my bad-boy days. I’m afraid they’ll be disappointed the only shots I take now are covered by Obamacare.
You know how Texans feel about that.
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