A spud by any other name...

You should probably know that I work with kids. I know, it's scary, more for me than for them. Due to confidentiality, I'm not going to tell you where or how I work with these kids, I'm just going to say that they're all very special. In God's eyes, I'm sure. Anyway, one of these precious little pumpkins was carrying around an autograph book at the end of last year. Kids don't usually ask me for my autograph. I have no idea why. But this one approached me, asked me for my autograph and said "Mrs. Pie, has anyone ever told you that you look just like someone famous??" This was a 6 year old pumpkin, and I responded "No, no one has."

"Well," he continued, "you look just like Mrs. Potato Head."

Really? Was it the green hat? The huge lips?

There is no good deed attached to this story, other than that I smiled, signed his book, and stifled my laugh. (Even precious pumpkins don't like to be laughed at."

Human Biohazard

My new leaf fell off the tree about two years ago... but like any good cowboy will tell you, sometimes you've just got to get back on the horse and keep riding. But sometimes you've got to keep beating the horse after it's keeled over and died. I've heard it both ways, and I'm not sure which one is right. But I did another good deed, so I thought I would tell you about it.

I was horribly sick over Thanksgiving. I mean, really, really sick. Puke everywhere. In all of my kindness and concern for people I don't even know, I called the airline I was flying on to try and re-schedule my flight. Unfortunately the airline did not agree with my understanding of kindness, and was going to charge me more than $200 to change my flight! This is unacceptable. I explained how deathly ill I was, and how I could theoretically be considered some sort of biohazard or engineered human terrorist weapon. What do they call those? Smart bombs? I'd be like a walking, breathing smart bomb. The airline did not see my point of view on this, and I think they were upset at the references to anything politically scary. So I had no choice but to fly. I wasn't going to pay more than $200 to change my flight, when the airline obviously didn't care. But here's how this situation becomes a kindness... If an airline cares so little for their passengers, and knowingly allows them to be placed in a situation where they will most likely become violently ill, then it is a service to humanity for all of those passengers to become violently ill, and then for the airline to get the bad publicity. (For fear of a libel suit, I'm not going to name the airline here... but just watch the news. When they trace a massive flu epidemic back to an airline, you'll know where it started.) That airline deserves to lose its customers (but hopefully they lose them because the passengers go elsewhere, not because they died.) Plus, I totally leaned into the aisle whenever I had to breathe, so hopefully I didn't actually breathe on anyone.

I'm going to try and be better about updating this. I'll let you know how it goes.

You may think that I haven't posted anything because I've been busy... but that would be a false assumption. I haven't posted anything because I haven't done anything nice yet. It's been a few days but I don't want to rush it. I need to ease into this whole "Good Samaritan" thing. It's not as natural as it might seem. (So people who do it a lot [the Good Samaritan thing], that's just another sign that they're unnatural human beings, if they're even human beings at all. They're probably aliens. You know who I'm talking about... the ladies with the inhuman smiles and way too shiny hair... total aliens.)

I've turned over a new leaf. Gone are the days of random debauchery. I am now living the pious, complete life that I always knew I could. Evidence: I was leaving Costco the other day (because all good people shop at Costco... it's members only), when I was accosted by a Gypsy. A real live Gypsy! No, it wasn't her painted toe nails and dangling ear rings that gave her away... it was the gaunt lines of her face and the emptiness in her eyes. I'd seen those eyes before, in Spain, among the Gitano (Spanish for Gypsy.) She was pan handling, probably so she could afford more crack cocaine (all of the Gypsies use it. Trust me, I lived in Spain.) The baby on her hip probably hadn't been fed in days, because of her crack cocaine habit. It was then that I decided my new leaf had turned. I marched right back into that Costco (she couldn't follow me... members only) and right up to management, and let them know that there was someone accosting their customers right outside their very doors. It was the only choice I had. I couldn't allow more and more customers to be singled out by her and her baby, with those empty eyes and that faint, muffled crying sound eminating from the baby (probably weak from lack of food, because of the Gypsy girl's crack cocaine habit.) I waited until they removed her from the premises. I had to be sure that loyal Costco customers would be safe.

And my transformation was complete. I am now a Good Samaritan.