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On my thankful-for list, shoes that don't

  • On my thankful-for list, shoes that don't require hands to put on, are #3.

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  • It hasn't been easy, growing up without hands. When I was 12 I had a brief foray intro the girl scouts. The first badge I got was starting a fire. I had to use a

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  • My feet for that one. Afterwards I got the "disability" badge and "best at not having hands." runner up award. They kicked me out after I got it. I decided then to go into music.

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  • My first album, "Shoe bee doo", was largely ignored by critics who didn't understand the significance of percussion pieces created by stomping in insect manure. My second album was

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  • better; "Turn the Bee-t Around" created quite a buzz & honey, let me tell you - suddenly, I was quite famous! But not to drone on too long here, my next album featured Pollenesian

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  • tunes with flowery lyrics that I wrote to stem the tide of hatred against our close cousins, the wasps. Sure they used their stingers a bit too liberally, but that didn't mean

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  • they were into hair metal. Even if they were, so what? They're still family. Meanwhile I heard soft taps on the screen door. The carpenter bees were at it again. They wanted

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  • to unravel the screen to make hair metal chainmail bee suits to protect themselves from woodpeckers molesting their nest. This left holes in the screen door allowing small bats to

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  • Enter uninvited at night and entertain themselves without anyone knowing it. But Mr. Bat forgot to change the channel back and my father was furious at me and my brother for not

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  • inviting him. Why would we? He always got too drunk and hit on the girls only to throw up on them half way through his rendition of "My Way." We took the grounding it was easier.

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