Now, now Cindy. Please keep your helmet on.

Now, now Cindy. Please keep your helmet on. The world is full of opportunity for head trauma. When you graduate from college we'll glue a board and tassle to it and

and call you educated! Your head gear defines you & your worth, you know, Cindy. What do you think your helmet says about you now? It says,

"Impromptu F1 racing is a hobby of mine, so I am aggressive with shopping carts." Cindy nodded and rammed me in the calf. Her helmet was a bowling ball cut in half, a status symbol

as Queen of the Bowl-a-Rama over there on Rt. 52. Had I'd known I'd be bumping into Cindy at the Piggy-Wiggly today, I would have waited until tomorrow. She cart-rammed me again &

again. "Take off the bowling ball hat, Cindy," I begged. "It's crushing your cortexes of rationality!" "It's welded!" she moaned. I dragged myself across the floor of the Piggly-Wi

ggly which resulted in gobs of old cracker jack popcorn getting jammed down my pants. The husks were sharp. Cindy looked down and said, this bowling ball hat

makes my brain look fat. It was true but I was not about to fall for that old tar baby this late in the game. "Oh Honey", I cooed, "it is your fat brain that I love the most." She

cooed like a warbling dove but, I felt there was a knife in her comment. My fat brain wasn't sexy. It was my fat wallet she loved. And then came the hammer she

Sued me for libel, since I used her as a character in my folding story without her permission. We settled out of court, in the end. She loved this folding story and spared the axe.