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Nothing Better to Do?
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I had this conversation with my brother the other day. He got to meet the sister of a mutual friend. I asked him what the sister looked like. This is actually what he said to me. "She had blonde hair and big cans." I'm sorry did you just say she had big cans? Who uses that term anymore? Either she had large cans of paint sitting on the desk or my brother is channeling someone from the 1930s. So as the conversation goes along I ask well was she a skinny or bigger girl. The brilliant answer I got was he couldn't tell because she was behind a desk. Oh no Superman was stopped by wood. And here I thought only lead kept him from seeing.
As the absurdity of this conversation kept going on, I suddenly think of my brother giving this description to a sketch artist. I can see the whole scene playing out. The police are looking for this woman. The only person to see her was my brother. "Sir, can you describe her for us? Sure no problem. She had blonde hair, big cans and was sitting behind a desk. Anything else, sir? What else is there to say I think that's a pretty unique description." So the sketch artist gets to work and a few hours later comes back with a sketch of a giant set of boobs with blonde hair on top sitting behind a desk. The bulletin goes out over the news. Have you seen this woman. Here's a sketch artist description of the woman.
Hey where you going? Get back here... bye for now.
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