Once, when I was a kid, my dad took me to Wendy's. He took a fry out of my pile and said "What's this?" I said, "A French fry." He stuck it in his nose, pulled it out, and said "Now it's an Irish fry." He threw it back in my pile and rustled them around so I couldn't tell which one it was. My dad's funny.
Then there was the time when he and my stepmom moved me down to New Orleans. We were traveling around the Quarter, and he pointed to a street performer, one of the statue ones, and said "Those guys move so slowly that if you come back in half an hour he'll be in a different position." I totally believed him, and it didn't dawn on me till a few years later that he was lying.
3 months ago
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