The Meaning of Life

That is, according to my neighboring vendor at the 2006 Denver Home and Garden Show, the Homemade Goods salesman.

“It either is or it ain’t.
You either will or you won’t.
You either do or you don’t.
You either are or you ain’t.”

Notice the prevelance of the contractions. It did help me out of a tough spot though. I’d been biting back tears, and, upon receipt of this advice, shut myself in a bathroom stall, cried a little and decided that if I either do or I don’t, I’ll by-God-be-dead-before-I-don’t!

I gave him my email address later. The real one. We’d had good conversations about nutrition and the fate of humanity. It really had been a fairly boring show.

And cold. I’m thankful to be home. Finally!

Anyway, after I had given him my email address–the real one!–he said,”You know, I get pretty nasty over email.”

He’s been divorced as long as I’ve been alive. A pig valve keeps his heart beating. He’s a veteran of some war, and he doesn’t eat coconut cause there’s too much cholesterol. I love coconut. And I’m shocked. “So, you’ll send me all those links to your favorite porno sites?” I’m cool, you see. Down with the shiznet.

“No, not that kind of nasty.”

That was that. I await the results. As a handy man, he only uses email early in the morning, so we shouldn’t have to wait too long. I need to email him to make sure I got the Meaning of Life right, anyway. Wouldn’t want to misquote the Meaning of Life.

Lets hear from the peanut gallery, eh?

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