A local improv comedian of some renown announced an open, head-to-head competition between area improv companies.
Walking home through the snow, a stylish looking automobile came to a skidding halt dangerously close to me by the curb. The distinguished looking, middle-aged gentleman at the wheel (he had at least three other ladies around his age sitting in the passenger seat, they also look refined) first admonished me for having something as immature as Scholastic novels so obviously visible through the windows of my home. Explaining that I actually have small children who read in my house, the conversation turned to one of recommendations of good children's books. I had to admit that I hadn't actually read most of what my kids read ... but I was pretty sure they were inoffensive books that teach good morals.
Meanwhile, some hipsters were checking unpasteurized eggs they had. They all smelled horrible, but one did contained a live goldfish. They named it "Fish".
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