Help me out...

Ok- Doc and I were doing a sniper qualification last night; I brought my little camera out and snapped a few pictures; Doc took the camera and took one of me.

The problem is... every time I look at this photo, I think of little funny things to say; like:

"In order to stay warm on the tundra, just shoot a yetti and crawl into it's skin"

"Ghillie shmillie, I'm wearing this to the Oscars!"

"Sure I have back hair... but it's blonde"

Please help me by adding your own funny caption.  The winning quip will take the place (for a while anyway) as my new intro/bio photo and caption.

Shameless self-promotion?  You bet- but I have to do something to re-live the glory days of being the Pretzel King.

Respect... at last

I have been a cop for 24 years.  During that time I have saved lives, arrested criminals, and placed my life on the line for others.  For the past 15 years I have been on the SWAT Team, rising to the position of lead instructor in the state's sniper school.  During my time as a detective, I have investigated many murders, placing several killers behind bars. 

However, today I received more recognition, accolades, and respect than during all my years on the job.  Today I accomplished something that had everyone congratulating me; that's right, my name was on everyone's lips today.  Detective Sigler told me that I was, "The pride of the detective division." Detective Hammie wrote my name on the case whiteboard next to my accomplishment.  People came all the way from the City Jail to ask me if I had really done the impossible.

What did I do?  Was it rescue a child?  Did I take a bullet for the governor? Cure cancer? No.

I ate 10 pretzels in under a minute.

I blew away the old record of 8, set by some of the jail staff yesterday.  It's pretty hard here on top; everyone is now gunning for me, wanting me to do the feat again or wanting to top my record themselves.  I think I could make some money on writing a "How to" book;  telling everyone (who gives me $19.95) the secrets of chewing, and then swallowing without spit. 

Well, top of the world one minute, forgotten the next.  Such is the life of the professional pretzel eater. 

Foot in Mouth

A while back I stopped at home for lunch. As I walked in the front door, my wife zipped passed me, telling me she had to go to the store and pick something up.  I gave her a quick kiss and off she went, while I went to look for something to eat.  By the time I had made it to the refrigerator, and started to drink straight from the milk carton (my wife was gone, remember?), I heard a loud "screeeetch" followed by a crash.  I wiped off the milk moustache and ran outside; there I saw my wife's car, bashed in the middle, obviously having just pulled out of my driveway, right in from of someone driving down the road. 

I got into my police car and positioned it to block traffic, then called for a traffic car.  While we waited, I did my best to comfort my wife, who was crying and very upset that she had just caused an accident.  Everyone was ok, the damage had not been that great, but my wife felt as if she were the captain of the Titanic and the Exxon Valdez all rolled into one. 

Traffic Officer Rick showed up, looked at the obvious indicators of fault, saw my wife's car and her (from behind) sobbing in the driver's seat.  He walked up to me, pointed to my wife and whispered into my ear,

"Another stupid woman driving with her head up her ass." 

Just then my wife came out of the car and said to me,

"Honey, will he need to see all the paperwork?" 

Officer Rick's face went white, then red, his jaw opened and shut a few times, then started stammering something that went like,

"Wi-wi-wi-wife? I-I-I-I sss sor sor sorry D-D-D-Dave I-I-I didn't kn-kn-know." 

Having been an experienced veteran at the foot in mouth thing, I smiled at Officer Rick, held up my hand and said,

"It's ok."

I was just glad it wasn't me.... that time.