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VOL. 127 | NO. 53 | Friday, March 16, 2012

Dan Conaway

Dan Conaway

It’s True – No, Really

By Dan Conaway

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IF YOU WANT TO HELP, STOP. My high school classmate, Donna Davis, and I are doing an intervention. We’re asking our other classmates, and yours, to stop sending helpful, lifesaving email. Tell us what you’ve been up to … briefly … maybe even something … a little something … about your children/grandchildren or your plastic/heart/knee/hip surgery, but, please God, stop spreading the dismal fog of spreading germs and apocalyptic prophecy.

Write this down – snopes.com.

Donna forwarded me an email … I read Donna’s emails … with tongue-in-check grateful recognition for all that the sender has learned from her high school friends over the years.

“I can no longer open a bathroom door without using a paper towel, or ask for lemon slices in my ice water, or touch a purse that might have touched a bathroom floor,” the email read. “I can’t use anyone’s toilet but mine because a big, black snake could be lurking under the seat. And I keep my toothbrush in the living room, because I was told by email that water splashes more than 6 feet out of the toilet.”

Snopes.com. Bookmark it.

“I can’t use the remote in a hotel room because I don’t know what the last person was doing while surfing the adult channels,” she continued. “Can’t sit on the hotel bedspread either.”

“I send special thanks to whoever sent me the one about rat poop in envelope glue because I now have to use a wet sponge to seal them. I scrub the top of every can for the same reason.”

That’s snopes.com.

“I no longer worry about my soul,” she assures me, “because I have 363,214 angels looking out for me, St. Theresa’s Novena has granted my every wish, and I don’t drink soft drinks made by atheists who won’t stamp ‘Under God’ on their cans.”

However, as we all know, all of that is in jeopardy if you don’t make a wish and email it to seven friends within seven minutes.

“I can’t have a drink in a bar,” she bemoans, “because I’ll wake up in an ice-filled bathtub without my kidneys. I can’t bend over to pick up a quarter in a parking lot because I’ll be jumped by a sex molester. But I can’t drive anyway, because if I buy gas, a serial killer will hide in my backseat.”

As we’re all aware, you can’t buy gas anyway because that funds either al-Qaeda or Hugo Chavez.

“I can’t eat fast food chicken because it’s made from horrible mutant freaks with no eyes, feet or feathers,” she fears, “and even if I smell like a water buffalo, I can’t use deodorant because it causes cancer.”

In short, leave us alone. If we die, we die, blissfully unaware of the brown recluse in my golf shoe or the black widow in the flat of impatiens Donna just brought home.

Snopes.com, and for those of you claiming that Snopes is a vast liberal conspiracy to deny God’s own truth, well, bless your heart.

I’m a Memphian, Obama is a native Hawaiian, and absolutely nothing is happening in Roswell, N.M.

Dan Conaway is a lifelong Memphian, longtime adman and aspiring local character in a city known for them. Reach him at dan@wakesomebodyup.com.

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