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Columbia, South Carolina
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August 21, 2003     The Columbia Star
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16 -- A U  u ST 21 . 2003 THE (Z C-, L U I'vl BI /k Jobs, jobs, Chronicles of a married jobs My first job was working in an orange juice factory, but I got canned...couldn't concentrate. Then I worked in the woods as a lumberjack, but I just couldn't hack it, so they gave me the axe.' After that I tried to be a tailor, but I just wasn't suited for it...mainly because it was a so-so job. Next I tried working in a muffler factory but that was too exhausting. I wanted to be a barber, but I just couldn't cut it. Then I tried to be a chef-- figured it would add a little spice to my life but I just didn't have the thyme. I attempted to be a deli worker, but any way I sliced it, I couldn't cut the mustard. My best job was being a musi- cian, but eventually I found I wasn't noteworthy. I studied a long time to become a doctor, but I didn't have any patience. Next was a job in a shoe factory -- I tried but I just didn't fit in. I became a professional fisherman, but discovered that I couldn't live on my net income. I managed to get a good job working for a pool mainte- nance company, but the work was just too draining. I got a job at a zoo feeding giraffes, but I was fired because I wasn't up to it. So then I got a job in a workout center, but they said I wasn't fit for the job. After many years of trying to find steady work, I finally got a job as an historian until I realized there was no future in it. My last job was working at Starbucks, but I had to quit because it was always the same old grind. I blame Oprah and P When I got married I was under the impression I was going to marry my wife and only my wife. I admit to not listening that close to the preacher, but I did not, at any time hear him say, "Do you Brant, take this woman and Oprah, to have and to hold, to listen to the sound advice of Dr. Phil, till death do you part." I didn't even notice a clause like that on the marriage certificate -- of course, who actually reads one of those? It could have stated that I bare won $10 million, or I just became an organ donor. Things went well for quite some time until Alison was laid off from her job and was confronted with all of this free time. Part of a women's sixth sense is the innate ability to pick out the most estro- gen-filled television pro- gram at any time. About a week later I came home from work and sat down to talk to my wife. I spent what I feel was ample time to talk about our day - three min- utes. I even gave her the majority of the three min- utes, and then I went to the back room to play a relaxing video game. After about 30 or 45 minutes my wife came in and stood in front of the TV and said in a gentle non-confronting tone, "Brant, I need to talk to you for a minute." I immediately saw two problems. First, she was talking calmly. Normally she would come in and tell me to "turn off that stupid game and lis- ten." Second, she called me by my name, not a good sign. She came over and sat on the workout bench, lowered her glasses, and this was where things took a turn for the worse. She started off with the question, "What are some of your expectations of your wife?" I kind of laughed. Then she told me, "Alison has some real con- cerns and you need to address them today." Why was she refer- ring to herself in third per- son? It seemed that I was not talking to my wife. I was talking to my wife's therapist. All I could think of was if she were going to role-play, why couldn't she be Pamela Anderson instead of Dr. Phil. I went along for a bit to see where this was heading. Instead of getting better it got worse. I learned that I have what therapists and Oprah listeners refer to as "emo- tional constipation." She then said, "your wife has taken a very critical look at the spirit, blah, blah, blah..." (She didn't actually say blah, blah, blah, that's just what I heard from that point on.) I did pick up on a few key words, such as "life chain." I had absolute- ly no idea what that meant but it sounded interesting. She also told me, "Brant, do what works!" At this point I started getting a little freaked out and thought I needed to contact a priest for the exorcism of the Dr. Phil/Oprah demon that had given my wife a psychology degree. Then she told me, "Brant, you have to name it before you can claim it." What in the world was she talking about? I got up and stormed out of the room. I wanted my normal, (more normal than now) wife back. It's not her fault - I blame Oprah and Dr. Phil. They are the ones brain washing our wives into thinking is be use with our we were I'm cases what ing is  eryl are I LperS and they the good amino to in this one tell me wife are Vict "a'S ties' ing wife, legs (you body part will smooth, And I should look at and do next mou  ball So, now I'm retired: I found out I am perfect for the job! Contributed by Dale Boozer Smoking is cool Dwight of Lake Carolina says: "1 am so ashamed, and embarrassed. Smoking has ruined my life. Reallyt I start- ed at age eight and by the time I reached college my lips had receded so much I had to use lipstick to hide it. I stopped smoking, but the weirdos wouldn't leave me alone. Now, no nicotine, no girls, no friends, nut'n honey." A public 'vice ad by the Smokers League and The Columbill i , i ,ii iii i i i n i i':)