Reclosable Bag

My wife has forced me to throw away all of my undershirts that had even the smallest hole in the armpit. Luckily, she was also nice enough to buy me some new undershirts. It always amazes me when I buy new undershirts or underwear because they come in reclosable bags. Fruit of the Loom even proudly prints on the side of the bag "Reclosable Bag" with arrows pointing to the end of the bag that is....you got it, reclosable.

Maybe it's just me, but when I get new undershirts I tend to remove them from the bag they come in, wash them, and store them in my dresser. Am I missing something about the convenience of reclosable undershirt bags?

I Smoke Pot!?

I had a bit more eventful drive home today than usual. About a mile from work, there was a "crash! clatter, clatter, clatter..." and suddenly the sound from my car's exhaust became quite a bit louder. Apparently it had something to do with this:

I'd already lost the muffler a few years ago, but now that I've lost more of the exhaust pipe, the exhaust comes out right under the passenger area of the car. It's unbearable. 2000 rpm = headache. I have to get this fixed.

Speaking of not having a muffler, it reminds me of a fun story.


One day I was driving home from work, minding my own business, and obeying all traffic laws....I saw a sheriff's cruiser in my rearview mirror. He didn't have his lights or sirens on, but I just had this feeling he was following me and was going to pull me over. The stoplight turns red and I stop. The sheriff's deputy flashes his lights. Just as I suspected. I turn on to the side road.

(While I have paraphrased below, I promise that I don't make any exaggerations.)


Deputy: Do you know why I pulled you over?


Joe: No, I honestly don't.


Deputy: You hear that? (points to rear of car)


Joe: Oh, my muffler? Or lack thereof?


Deputy: Yup. License and proof of insurance, please. Where do you work?


Joe: [INSERT NAME OF EMPLOYER HERE].


Deputy: Then don't you think you could afford a new muffler?


Joe: Yes, I suppose I could.


Deputy: Wait a minute while I check your records.


Several minutes pass and deputy returns...


Deputy: Okay, I'm going to just give you a warning. You can do with it what you want. I don't care. I can't force you to get your muffler fixed. But Officer XXXX has warned you - you should know that driving a Honda that sounds like that will draw unwanted attention. Police will think you're some 18 year old kid who thinks he's in the "Fast and the Furious", and they all smoke pot, right?


Joe: I have no idea if they smoke pot.


Deputy: Well, you know what I'm saying. I'm not saying I age-profile, or racial-profile, but you don't want to put out the wrong image - it will draw attention to you.


Joe: Okay. Thanks. I appreciate it, officer.

Joe: (thinking to self as driving home) Was he trying to imply that I smoke pot?

Cousins

Cousins. I have a lot. On my mother's side of the family, there's a total of 24 of us (if I counted right). When we were younger we all spent a lot of time playing together at Sunday family dinners and on holidays at my granparents' house (which are some of my fondest childhood memories). After this weekend, one more of my cousins is married. It's hard to believe we're all getting old enough to be adults, get married, and have children.

I'm glad some of us are still able to get together on special occasions to celebrate together and get caught up.