Penny Candy

October 15, 2001

"In my childhood there was a penny-candy store on the corner, run by a rail-thin immigrant who was constantly in jail when the country was at war. I would stop by there with all my boyhood pals and we would plunk fat copper pennies on the counter and buy as much penny candy as we could afford.

One day I got my hand stuck in the penny candy jar, and I realized the only way I would be able to get it out would be to let go of some of that sweet, enticing candy. I thought how strange that I could barely fit the candy all in my hand and yet expected to be able to fit it all in my belly.

For the longest time, I couldn't decide if I had the heart to let all that penny candy go and just take what I could eat. Or if I'd hang onto it forever and maybe even grow old and walk around for the rest of my life with a penny candy jar on my clenched fist.

Then the immigrant came out of the bathroom and yelled for me to get my thieving unwashed hands out of the penny candy jar or he was going to grab his pistol. After that I was banned from the store."

Quote of the Day

“Any man who serves as his own lawyer has a fool for a client. Because think about it, stupid, why you gonna pay some guy who didn't even go to law school? That's just dumb. And how do you pay yourself, anyway? Take your money out of one pocket and put it in the other? Silly. Or maybe you've got to hire a neutral third party to take the money and then hand it back to you, like a lawyer or somebody. Shit, this is gettin' expensive.”

-Dred Scott Drummond

Fortune 500 Cookie

You're simply the best, and that depresses us all. The next time you're on trial for murder, don't forget to mention that a Klondike bar was involved. And if you must ask for a lawyer who can get you off, at least try not to do it with that smarmy leer in your eye. Try chewing your food an odd number of times this week, like 6,372. This week's lucky injuries: hangnail, hangankle, ruptured spleen, stabitosis.

Try again later.

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