It's Al Lowe's CyberJoke 3000
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http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jNQXAC9IVRw
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Today's CyberJoke 3000
Going to Starbucks for coffee is like going to prison for sex: you know you're going to get it, but it's going to be rough!
"$5.37," said the kid behind the counter at Taco Bell. I handed him a five and dug in my pocket, pulling out two dimes and some lint. I headed out to my truck for more change when the kid said the harshest thing ever: "It's okay. I'll just give you the senior citizen discount. Only $4.68," he said cheerfully. I stood there stupefied. I'm 48! Senior citizen? I took my burrito out to the truck wondering what was wrong with that kid. As I sat in the truck, my blood began to boil. Me? Old? I'll show him. I opened the door and headed back inside where he was waiting with a smile. Before I could say a word, he jingled something in front of me, like I could be easily distracted. What am I now? A toddler? "Dude! Can't get far without your car keys, eh?" I stared with disdain at the keys. I rationalized in my mind, "Leaving keys hardly makes a man elderly! It could happen to anyone!" I grabbed them and headed back to the truck. I slipped the key into the ignition, but it wouldn't turn. Now what? I tried again. Still nothing. That's when I noticed the purple beads. I have no beads hanging from my rearview mirror, purple or otherwise. Or car seat in the back seat. Or toys all over the floorboards. Faster than you can say ginkgo biloba, I flew out of that alien vehicle. Moments later, I sped out of the parking lot, relieved to finally leave this nightmarish stop in my life behind. That's when I realized: I was hungry! I grabbed for my burrito, only it was nowhere to be found. I swung the truck around, gathered my courage, and strode back into the restaurant one final time. There the cashier stood, draped in youth and black nail polish. "Did I leave my order here?" The kid shook his head. By then I was ready for a Boy Scout to lead me to my vehicle so I could drive to the Social Security office to apply for benefits. As I walked back to my truck, a child got my attention. He was holding a drink and a bag. His mother asked, "Did you leave this in my truck by mistake?" I sheepishly apologized and took it from the youngster. She said, "Don't worry. It's okay. My grandfather does stuff like this all the time." And that was what I told the officer to explain why I was doing 85 in a 40, racing some punk kid in a Prius. As I walked in my front door, my wife met me and I handed her a bag of cold food and my $300 speeding ticket, sat down in my rocking chair, and covered up my legs with a blanket. At least I found my way home!
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