Bucks for Ducks (R)
A very rich old man is on his deathbed and is going to die soon, so he calls in his three sons. He gives them each a duck and tells them that the one who gets the most for his duck will be given everything the old man owns. The first son goes out, and when he comes back he says, "Father! Father! I got $10 for my duck!"
His father says, "That is very good let's see how your other brothers do."
About a day later the second brother comes home and he says, "Father! Father! I got $15 for my duck."
The old man replies, "So far you have done the best, but let's wait and see what your little brother does."
While the last brother was looking for someone to buy his duck, he happened to pass by a bar. When he got into the bar he saw the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen before, so he told her, "I'll give you this duck for a fuck."
She replied, "Ok."
When the boy got home to his father, his father was so furious that he yelled, "You get your ass back in that bar and get that duck back!"
So the boy returned to the bar and found the same girl and told her his tale. He then said, "I'll give you a fuck for that duck." She agreed and while they were fucking the duck flew out the window and got hit by a truck.
The truck driver was so sorry about what had happened that he offered to pay for the duck. The boy then replied, "$20 would do nicely."
"No problem," said the driver. When the boy got home he was beaming with pride. He shouted, "I won! I won! I got a fuck for a duck a duck for a fuck and twenty bucks for a fucked up duck."
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Mundane Journeys through an Amazing World
begins with Interstate 80. Not the most engaging topic, I know, but when you think about it, I-80 runs all the way across the North American continent linking San Francisco and New York. It's not just a ribbon of asphalt, it's a portal to far away, almost magical places.
My visits to major cities like Tokyo, London and Washington DC have been business affairs. I haven't rode a lot of roller coasters or ridden in open air buses, but I have visited with senators, bought yams from the back of a truck and barely escaped complete embarrassment when I was introduced to Matt Wiener in Vegas.
As I wrote the book I realized that over the years exotic, distant places have become more like the mundane places I've called home. But, as it turns out, there really aren't any mundane places, only mundane ways of looking at things.
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