For some reason, a stack of one dollar bills always reminds me of strippers.
Aside from a warped sense of society, I have no idea why this is.
I don't know any strippers (that I'm aware of...).
I've never been a stripper.
I never plan to be a stripper (although my friend Marilynn insists that I could make some good money with these pregnancy breasts).

This morning, I had the following conversation with the gas station girl (GSG):

GSG: OOOO...it looks like our safe drop isn't working. I only have ones. Do you mind if I give you all ones for your change?
ME: *shrugs* Doesn't matter to me. Spends all the same.
GSG: Well, look at it this way. Your wallet will be fatter and everyone will think that you're richer.
ME: Or a stripper...
GSG: *silence*
ME: *blink*blink*blink*
GSG: Yeah, well, either way...
ME: Thanks! (as I waddle off 6 months into pregnancy)


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