Wednesday, August 05, 2009

There's something wrong with my mouth

Or the link between my brain and my mouth.
For years, my brother Rollo and I have marveled at my innate ability to say exactly the wrong thing. Not just inappropriate, but dead on awkward. (Rollo says it is a gift.)

I sat in front of the home insurance chick's desk last year to talk about house stuff. She asked something that I did not know so I instructed her to "just talk to me like a retard 'cause this is my first house and I don't know much about the whole new house process". Then as she turned to look at her computer screen, I spied a photo on her bulletin board with, yep, you guessed it, a nice family photo of an older lady with a special needs child. Once again, I was mortified.

But I think I now know WHY I say the wrong things - I must have ESP. Somehow I know in advance what you are ashamed of or what would make you uncomfortable.

Last week I met a guy and had the overwhelming urge to say something about pedophiles. It may have been the first time in my life that I controlled my tongue. But man oh man, now I am wondering about that guy and wish I knew his last name so I could do an Internet neighborhood pedophile search on him.

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