Back to school, samurai-style

"Fuuuuuuuck," one guy said, looking closely at a sword.

"Shiiiiiit," the other said.

For two fellows as close as this pair, only a few words were needed to convey entire novels of meaning.

I told Michelle about the biggest stoner I went to high school with, and how he is now on Facebook, with photos of himself building soap-box derbies with his kids. I couldn't help myself, and I wrote on his comments page, "Aren't you the same guy who used to draw pictures of Satan riding a dragon to Mordor on his Trapper Keeper?"

I looked closely at the swords, too. I tried to imagine what it would feel like to stab yourself. You'd need some really long arms. Also, it would suck. For now, I'll stick with metaphorical trials and redemption in east central Illinois. I'll tell you how it goes.

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