12-06-2006, 07:23 AM
When I was 8 or 9 and lived in Texas, I used to go to the house of the neighbor boy down the street. This was great fun, because he was allowed to do pretty much anything. We could set small(ish) fires in the garage, for example, and nobody would ever notice or care at that house.
One day when I was over there at lunch time, his dad made us some spam sandwiches (this, coupled with the description above sounds like a stereotype, I know, but it's a true story). I remember coming home and mentioning that I'd tried something called spam and that I really liked it, and I noticed that I got a lot of strange looks. Nobody would tell me why they were amused by my story of the delicious spam sandwiches. They wouldn't get any for us to have at home, though. I was so mad! :unsure:
One day when I was over there at lunch time, his dad made us some spam sandwiches (this, coupled with the description above sounds like a stereotype, I know, but it's a true story). I remember coming home and mentioning that I'd tried something called spam and that I really liked it, and I noticed that I got a lot of strange looks. Nobody would tell me why they were amused by my story of the delicious spam sandwiches. They wouldn't get any for us to have at home, though. I was so mad! :unsure:
Why can't we all just get along
--Pete
--Pete