Just remember, I own a gun.




HAVE YOU EVER BEEN GUILTY OF LOOKING AT OTHERS YOUR OWN AGE AND THINKING, SURELY I CAN'T LOOK THAT OLD.
WELL . . . YOU'LL LOVE THIS ONE.


MY NAME IS PAULINE , AND I WAS SITTING IN THE WAITING ROOM FOR MY FIRST APPOINTMENT WITH A NEW DENTIST.
I NOTICED HIS DDS DIPLOMA ON THE WALL, WHICH BORE HIS FULL NAME. SUDDENLY, I REMEMBERED A TALL, HANDSOME, DARK-HAIRED BOY WITH THE SAME NAME HAD BEEN IN MY HIGH SCHOOL CLASS SOME 40-ODD YEARS AGO.

COULD HE BE THE SAME GUY THAT I HAD A SECRET CRUSH ON, WAY BACK THEN?

UPON SEEING HIM, HOWEVER, I QUICKLY DISCARDED ANY SUCH THOUGHT.

THIS BALDING, GRAY-HAIRED MAN WITH THE DEEPLY LINED FACE WAS WAY TOO OLD TO HAVE BEEN MY CLASSMATE.

AFTER HE EXAMINED MY TEETH, I ASKED HIM IF HE HAD ATTENDED BRYAN HIGH SCHOOL .

'YES. YES, I DID. I'M A BEAR,' HE GLEAMED WITH PRIDE.

WHEN DID YOU GRADUATE?' I ASKED.

HE ANSWERED, 'IN 1968. WHY DO YOU ASK?'

YOU WERE IN MY CLASS!', I EXCLAIMED.

HE LOOKED AT ME CLOSELY.

THEN, THAT UGLY,

OLD,

BALDING,

WRINKLED FACED,

FAT-ASSED,

GRAY-HAIRED,

DECREPIT

SON-OF-A-BITCH
ASKED,
"WHAT DID YOU TEACH?"