Cincinnati?! Cincinnati?! What the hell

Cincinnati?! Cincinnati?! What the hell is there to do in Cincinnati? Frank shook his head at Betty in amazement that she so yearned to vacation in such an oddly named city.

Betty decided to make the best of this crappy vacation. First, they had to visit the Hustler store, I mean, you saw the Larry Flint movie...then they tried to find Charlie Manson's

match he was such a sucker for a good blood bath, but the only one I could find was way up on the North Side of the city at a place called Bourbon Street. So, we hopped in

but much to our disappointment the bath wasn't filled with blood at all, it was cherry soda. I hated false advertising. Soon Bourbon Street truly would house a blood bath

. But then I returned to my hate of false advertising. I brought up McD's. You know the burger in real life is nothing like the burger in their photo.

There's nothing like the real thing. The real one certainly tastes better than the photo of the burger, unless you're like my printer at work, in which case you like eating paper.

"I like eating paper." a soft nasally voice said behind me.I swung around.Oh, it was only Herbie, the office go-fer. Weird kid. Herbie took a step closer to me and my paper burger

. "Can I have some of your paper burger?" Herbie intoned. "Herbie, I paid a good fifty bucks for this burger," I said, "so get your own." Herbie suddenly turned menacing and leered

he flicked his lighter. Before I could stop him my burger was a two carbon patty specially scorched broiled blackened burnt hockeypuck with two strips of ash on an incandecent bun.