Thank you Lord for my children, who keep me out of too much trouble. I was at the grocery store last night, and there was a 50 something man wearing a sweatshirt with two completely nude pole dancers plastered across his back fat. I caught up with him in the dairy section and asked him to take it off (it was a zip up thing). He kept asking what I meant, then why. He explained that if I didn't like it I should just not look at it. I queried as to where he was raised and then suggested he go back to that place. As he took his leave I kicked his ankles. Rage clouds a person's judgement, I guess. I'll have to go back to the store for the rest of the stuff I forgot tonight.
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