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Johann's Got Dandruff


by Smiley McGrouchpants


               "But  what shampoo to try?" he all-but-screams, grinding the fingernails (dirt underneath them) of one hand into the recliner arm, grinding the fingernails (also dirty) of the other into an empty bag of Frito™-Lay's® Pork Rinds (patent pending), utterly shredding it, without notice  desperate, desperate.
               The stupid TV show with the black kids who are happy 'cuz the white people who adopt them are rich and nobody feels like a slave and everybody's got Zips™ sneakers and there's canned laughter, hahaha-HA! HA!
               It grates on your nerves.
               (It's like waiting by your "IN"-box  if you had a job, and weren't living on disability, soon to be cut to ribbons, thanks to Reagan  and you WERE. JUST. WAITING. FOR. A. SIGN.)
               Finally, the commercials come:
               - a shoe polish drama ("See?")
               - dishwasher detergent ("Suds! It's . . . BENEFICIAL!")
               and, lastly:
               - fast-food hamburger restaurant, near you, in case you forgot it. ("Flame broiled . . . for ACTUAL COOKED MEAT flavor!")
               No advice about his dandruff problem.
               Johann felt forlorn.

                                                              THE END
                                               (no, really . . . that's the whole story!)
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