My Endless Shrimp: 90 Minutes of Red Lobster Glory

18th October 2015 by admin No Comments
None of us knew what was about to happen, and it wouldn't have helped if we did.

None of us knew what was about to happen, and it wouldn’t have helped if we did.

For those of you who not familiar with the crimson crustacean, or don’t feel the need to eat yourself sick on occasion, “Endless Shrimp” is a semi-annual event at Red Lobster where for about twenty bucks, they’ll keep serving you shrimp until you tap out.

One day, Red Lobster sent me an email that said “Endless Shrimp is almost over…”

It’s not over until I say it is, Red Lobster. Do you hear me? I’m coming, Red Lobster. And all Hell’s coming with me.

Here’s the story of my ninety minutes at Red Lobster, and my ongoing battle with the concept of “Endless Shrimp.”

Spoiler Alert: I lose. Everyone always does.

3:42 pm – Let’s do this. I pull into the Red Lobster parking lot, and loosen up my belt. This is a day for the ages, my friends. This is the kind of day they make movies about, if “300” had been about gluttony.

3:47pm – My waiter, Bob, approaches the table, and doesn’t even bother to ask if I’d like an appetizer. “You look like you’re ready to go,” he says.

Yes, Bob. Yes, I am.

He gives me no extraneous conversation, and we get right to business. I make my order, I start with the Teriyaki Grilled Shrimp and the Hand-Breaded Shrimp.

Bob asks me if I want fries. Hell yeah. Then he asks what kind of salad dressing would I like?

I dispatch Bob with a scoff and a wave. This is not a day for salad. This is a day for victory.

Bob heads to the kitchen and leaves me sitting there giddy with anticipation. I’ve never been so happy to get too much of something.

3:51pm – They bring me the Cheddar Bay Biscuits. I don’t want one, but I have to have it.

By the way, I doubt anyone would ever name a bay after a cheese. It makes no sense. It would be like naming your dairy farm after a fish.

The woman at the next table is from somewhere on the East Coast, and orders chardonnay with her meal. That just seems wrong for some reason. This is a Red Lobster, ma’am. That’s like asking for the wine list at Denny’s.

3:55pm – I realized I should have eaten something before I came, because I just inhaled a biscuit. I have no memory of eating it, but it’s gone, and there’s a vague taste of cheese on my breath, so I must have devoured it. A prosecuting attorney would have a field day with me trying to deny my involvement in the disappearance of a biscuit.

4:01pm – The first round arrives. I almost pull it out of Bob’s hands.

Shrimp Count: 21

The beginning of a fantastic meal. Also, morbid obesity.

The beginning of a fantastic meal. Also, morbid obesity.

Cost per Shrimp (at $16.99): 80 cents

4:03pm - A moment later, Bob comes back around to ask me if he can get another round started for me. I would take a bullet for Bob right now.

This is good shrimp to start with. The Teriyaki Shrimp is sweet, and the hand-breaded is…fried. It’s delicious, but the fact that they refuse to just call it “fried” bothers me. Embrace your identity, Red Lobster!

4:07pm – I get ten (10) shrimp scampi brought to my table. I power through them, then dunk one of my Cheddar Bay Biscuits in the leftover scampi sauce. It’s horrible for you, but absolutely delicious if you don’t mind hearing your own pulse pounding in your ears.

I eat a few bites of fries and rice to form a landing pad in my stomach for the shrimp so they don’t get lonely, and start to riot.

Shrimp Count: 31
Cost per Shrimp: 55 cents.

4:12pm – Ten more fried shrimp arrive. I go back to the well for the Teriyaki Grilled, then immediately regret it because it’s only five shrimp. I feel like eating this much seafood in a row has affected my ability to do math.

I feel like I need to eat faster. When the shrimp is “Endless,” it becomes less of a tasty dinner and more of a challenge, a task to overcome.

Shrimp Count: 41
Cost per Shrimp: 41 cents.

4:17pm –Bob, who looks a great deal like Mad TV’s Will Sasso, sets up another round while I finish what I’ve got. I consider putting Bob in my will. I’m surprised at how tasty the shrimp is because, let’s face it, Red Lobster is not exactly renowed for five-star dishes. You don’t see a lot of Red Lobsters set up on beachfront lots.

4:23pm – I start to experience a lull, where I wonder what I’m doing with my life. Unprompted, Bob brings me some fresh Cheddar Bay Biscuits, and my moment of reflection vanishes.

At this rate, Bob will be able to pay off his student loan with my tip.

4:26pm – Bob brings me the Teriyaki Shrimp and asks if I’d like another round. I tell him yes, and he pauses before he pulls his pad out of his pocket. I feel like Bob is starting to doubt me. He’s thinking I’m going over the edge.

I’m not even to the suburbs of the edge yet, Bob. Stand back.

Shrimp Count: 46
Cost per Shrimp: 37 cents.

4:32pm – I begin to feel like Red Lobster has pulled the throttle back on me. Maybe they’re slowly hand-preparing my Shrimp Linguini in the back, but it sure feels like they’re easing back in some vain attempt to either save some money, or keep me alive.

4:33pm – Ten more fried and a whole plate full of shrimp linguini arrive. I realize I’ve been here a half hour and I haven’t used my fork yet.

Shrimp Count: 72
Cost per Shrimp: 24 cents.

4:35pm – I realize the Shrimp Linguini Alfredo is very cheesy and very tasty, and also very much a trap. It’s like eating Sakrete, it’ll fill in the cracks and crevices left in my stomach. Then when I take a drink of tea, it’ll expand into a regulation size basketball. I’m going to need to do some emergency spot eating here.

I momentarily lose track of how many shrimp I’ve had because I think I’ve accidentally eaten my pen.

4:37pm – My next round of Teriyaki Shrimp arrives and for a moment, I have three different plates of shrimp in front of me. And I don’t feel bad about it at all. I think that’s one of the first signs of mental illness.

Shrimp Count: 77
Cost per Shrimp: 22 cents.

4:41pm – Bob comes by and looks at me and says “So what are you thinking?” I tell him to hit me with the Hand-Breaded again.

Bob pauses a beat, then says “Okay.”

I can tell that Bob and I have spent enough time together to form a real relationship, and he’s really growing concerned. I feel like at some point, instead of coming back with a plate of shrimp, Bob will come back with my friends and family so they can all tell me how my gluttony has affected them personally.

4:45pm – I burp, and it feels like it opens up an entire new stomach within me. I wonder if this is what marathon runners feel like. Or maybe cows.

I have a brief moment of clarity. When did gluttony become manhood? Eating far too much food doesn’t equate to slaying a dragon, or building a bridge. Why is this something we aspire to? A hot-dog eating contest shouldn’t be how we elect our leaders.

4:49pm – Another waitress delivers a plate of Hand-Breaded, and I order another round of scampi. Bob is off with the waitstaff singing “Happy Birthday” to the woman from New York who ordered the chardonnay, which means she’s also spending her birthday in a Red Lobster. Her afternoon gets weirder by the moment.

Shrimp Count: 87
Cost per Shrimp: 19 cents.

4:51pm - We’ve now passed the point where Bob is concerned about me, and now he’s actively cheering me on. Bob asked me if I skipped breakfast to get ready for this, and I tell him that’s not how it works. I’ve been training for this moment for weeks. Or maybe all of my life.

I order two more rounds while we’re chatting.

4:52pm - I go to the bathroom to wash my Teriyaki-stained hands, because they have reached levels of adhesiveness only seen in Spider-Man comic books. There’s no danger of me skipping out on the bill, of course. I’m not really a threat to dine-and-dash. I couldn’t even dine-and-roll at this point.

As I come back, I notice new faces at the tables around me. Then I realize those are the third families to sit down and order since I walked in. I’m going deep in the count for this one.

Lonely is the man on an Endless Shrimp quest.

4:58pm – My latest edition of scampi arrives, and as I approach triple-digits, I genuinely become concerned about the life decisions I’ve made.

I look up and see a limousine pull through the parking lot. I assume it was the birthday girl, which makes the afternoon even weirder for her.

Shrimp Count: 97
Cost per Shrimp: 17 cents.

4:59pm – Bob comes back by and asks, “What’s next, brother?”

It’s good to have him fully onboard.

I tell him I want another skewer of Teriyaki Grilled. He reminds me I’ve got one coming already. I say I know, and to keep them coming. Bob nods and heads off.

I feel like I’m learning to drown in food. Somewhere Aquaman is plotting my demise, as public enemy #1 of the oceans.

5:06pm – Five more Teriyaki shrimp show up, which puts me over the top. And I have more coming. From the way Bob is acting, when I finish they’re going to give me some kind of a championship belt.

Shrimp Count: 102
Cost per Shrimp: 17 cents, still.

5:09pm – I finish the grilled, and I’m waiting on the scampi. Bob comes up and asks me if I want any more. I tell him I’d better stop, since I don’t want to be late for dinner. He laughs briefly, and then looks at me to make sure I’m kidding.

I just stare into his eyes until he feels uncomfortable and hurries away.

5:14pm - My scampi arrives and I am both hungry, and very much done. I officially tap out and Bob tells me three times to “Come back any time,” which makes me feel like there’s some kind of wager going on in the back room as to how many schools of shrimp I’ll finish, and Bob is the grand prize winner. I’ve been the highlight of his day.

Shrimp Count: 112
Cost per Shrimp: 15 cents.

5:21pm – I sign the check, double the bill for Bob’s tip and plod to the car. I tapped out at 112 shrimp, and I understand that I will be ill for a couple of days.

Every great now and then it’s worth it. If anything goes really wrong, I’m sure Bob will send a wreath of Teriyaki shrimp to my funeral.

– Reid Kerr only does all-you-can-eat when it’s seafood. And he’ll keep telling himself that, like it matters.

The Rejection Chronicles: Suddenly Indie Again

6th October 2015 by admin No Comments
The Great Texas Trailer Park Escape

The Great Texas Trailer Park Escape

Yesterday, I was an author.

Today, I am an indie author.

It’s a new chapter in my writing career, and one that comes as quite a surprise.

Last week, I got an email from Dave at Biting Dog Press, who published “The Great Texas Trailer Park Escape” (and also “Fresh Blood and Old Bones”) telling me they’re discontinuing their e-book department.

That means my book isn’t for sale anymore.

First off, I’d really like to thank Dave and everyone else who’s been a part of BDP. “Trailer Park Escape” never would have happened without Dave, who after reading my Shade story in “Fresh Blood and Old Bones” asked me if I had anything else with a “wise-cracking protagonist.” Luckily for both of us, that’s pretty much all I ever have.

Dave and BDP have been great to work with, I’ve really learned a lot over the past two years. There were some great writers under that banner, and some really good people, too. No regrets at all, and I wish them the best.

But for now, that leaves me without a publishing home for my first book. If you’ve got a copy of “Trailer Park Escape,” thank you very much for buying it, and hang on to it. It appears you now have a rare e-book, if such a thing actually exists. It’ll be back for sale soon (hopefully). I’m going to explore self-publishing, which is actually something I had in mind for a couple of projects anyway. This just moves up my timeline, I suppose.

It’s just a brief setback, but I’ll admit it’s certainly an odd feeling to be published on Sunday, and homeless on Monday. There’s a good bit of “starting over” to deal with, even though the book was for sale for almost two years.

So now while I’m working on my regular gigs, two more audiobooks, and rewrites for the new book (“Goodbye Joinerville,” a chick lit road trip), I’ve also got to do some investigating on independent publishing. I’m probably going to add a couple of things to it I originally trimmed up, and add another short story or two from Jennings County. Might as well make it a good value while I’m back in the old neighborhood.

For now, I appreciate everyone who has supported me in the last couple of years, whether it’s been through Amazon, my sports/humor columns with the Tyler Morning Telegraph and Project, or just “liking” and forwarding my stuff on Facebook and Twitter. Thank you so much for encouraging my behavior, and there’s more coming up soon, I promise.

And by the way, for more on what it’s like to be an aspiring writer, check out my new feature here on Reid About, “The Rejection Chronicles.” It’s a little example of the kinds of things you have to do to stay sane in an industry geared around a lower acceptance rate than Ashley

– Reid Kerr is getting back to work, at a lot of things.

The Rejection Chronicles III: Yes and No

21st August 2015 by admin No Comments

One thing is starting to become clear to me, if the writing process was a book, it would be far too depressing to read. It is, by necessity, a culling process. “Culling” in this instance means “a series of punches to the taint designed to discourage everyone.”

Last night I took the new book, “Goodbye Joinerville,” to a Writers Group and read the first ten pages. It killed. I got great feedback, and I was really encouraged by how much they liked it. It was a really good experience, in a situation where that’s certainly not always the case.

GoldenGod01Today, I get up feeling great. I am a Golden God!

And then I get a rejection notice from an agent who had requested the book.

I am no longer a golden god. I am now worthless vermin fit only for extinction. Back to work I go.

Which is really what I should be doing, of course. A book isn’t finished until it’s on a shelf somewhere, and last night I noticed a couple of things I should fix up. Still, rejection is a killer. It’s always frustrating to realize you’re not automatically universally loved and adored, and you didn’t get a return email full of praise and twenty-dollar bills.

How do I deal with it? Sarcasm. Steve Earle. And another episode of the Rejection Chronicles. Here’s another rejection letter I’ve received in the past, and what I actually took it to mean.

EMAIL: Thank you for your query. (Agent) asked me to reply after he evaluated your submission. We’re afraid your project does not seem right for our list, but thank you for thinking of (Agent), and best of luck in your search for representation.

What they meant: Thank you for sending us this vile refuse. My boss read it and threw himself out of a window, so I’m replying to you in hopes you stop before you injure anyone else.

We’re afraid your project doesn’t seem right for humans. Thank you for thinking of us, please stop thinking of us. Or thinking in general. Best of luck in your search for representation, or meaning in life.

– Reid Kerr found that listening to “The Revolution Starts Now” as loud as possible helps with the healing process.

The Daily Life of a Freelance Writer: Mail Call

14th August 2015 by admin No Comments
Being a writer requires a mailbox that can take a punch.

Being a writer requires a mailbox that can take a punch.

Ah, the glamorous life of a free-lance writer. For those of you who’ve been seduced by our portrayal in movies and television, here’s a little daily routine I’ve grown accustomed to.

1) I sing a happy tune all the way to the mail box.
2) I open it, reach in, look around twice and make sure there’s no checks in it.
3) I mutter profanity as I stomp all the way back to my front door.

Repeat daily six days a week. Take Sundays off.

– Reid Kerr wishes he could pay his bills the same way, but the electric company is somewhat less than sympathetic.


8th August 2015 by admin No Comments

Some people like to drink a lot of alcohol and go to a club. I just drank a lot of Miralax and I’m going to Walmart.

La vida loca, amigos.

– Reid Kerr is 45, and afraid of fifty.

Travel Book Sneak Peak

7th August 2015 by admin No Comments

Working on The Travel Book, tentatively titled “I Hate It Here: A Love Story.”

“Don’t get me wrong, I love the beach, but mostly because it gives me access to seafood. I’m a huge fan of any food that lets me add butter as a condiment.”

– Reid Kerr hopes you’ll join him on a sarcasm-filled tour of the country.


1st August 2015 by admin No Comments

I’m trying to write a short biography page for a prospective agent. It’s hard to boil it down to 250 words. I’ve had an easier time writing ransom notes, to be honest.

I’m trying to decide how many of the following phrases to include:

– Published Author
– Donkey Basketball Champion
– 220 Pounds of Twisted Steel and Sex Appeal
– Survivor of a Career in Radio and Television
– Tenaha Parade Broadcaster
– Goalie
– Airport art critic
– Founder, Sugartit Machete Club
– Former webmaster,
- Voice of Swap Shop, 1996-97
– Green vegetable-free, 1970-present

– Reid Kerr knows his resume is somewhat unbelievable, and not in the good way.

The Rejection Chronicles: Writing The Pine

20th July 2015 by admin No Comments

As a writer, I get a lot of calls and emails asking me how things are going, and what I’m doing. Most of these are from my friends and family asking just to make sure I’m still alive, or from my creditors, who are asking for the same reasons. On Monday I like to plan out the rest of my week, just in case there’s a mysterious disappearance. I figure it’ll be easier for the ID Network to tell my story if I go ahead and give them the background material.

My writing schedule for the week:

Monday: Signing books written by other people at the Cincinnati Barnes & Noble until they notice and kick me out.

Reid12Tuesday: Almost send out that thing I wrote, become crippled with doubt and start rewriting it again. Intend to leave house, never do.

Wednesday: Crying, drinking (various locations).

Thursday: Begin writing, get side-tracked, spend the entire day responding to negative online review by filing false Homeland Security reports.

Friday: Get on a roll writing, then get confused as to whether I should be using “affect” or “effect,” spend the next nine hours rewriting pages to eliminate that word, whichever one it was supposed to be in the first #$^%ing place.

Saturday: Resist urge to sucker-punch guy at get-together who finds out I’m a writer and feels compelled to tell me this story he always was going to write about a guy he knew back in high school who had a photographic memory and used it to memorize Hardy Boys books, and “Hey, what if that guy grew up to solve crimes as ‘the Hardly Boy?'” Sob. Drink. Flee.

Sunday: Put together list of projects for next week, including prospects, missed deadlines, vague ideas, and grocery store lists, which quickly turn into liquor store lists. Repeat if necessary.

– Reid Kerr is starting to answer the question “What do you do for a living?” by saying “I’m a pallbearer.”

The Rejection Chronicles II: Return Of The Suck

10th July 2015 by admin No Comments

The submission process continues for my new book, so I’m giving you an inside look at what happens inside my head when I read a rejection notice.

No.Email:  Hi Reid, Thank you for giving me a chance to consider your project. I’ve gone through your query and your sample pages and unfortunately I am going to have to pass on (title).  

Please remember that this is a highly subjective industry, and what doesn’t work for me is probably exactly what another agent may be looking for. I’m sorry I didn’t have better news for you but I wish you all the best with your search and hope you find the right agent soon.

All the best…

What they meant: Reid, thanks for letting me see this…whatever it was. I’m going to pass on this, as I’m still not sure what it was. All I know is, it broke my shredder. Remember, taste is subjective, so send this to someone with no taste. I wish I had better news for you, because quite frankly, I’m now scared of you. Best of luck to you, I have to hurry along now and alert the authorities.

All the best, only somewhere else…

– Reid Kerr isn’t going to take things too personally, but by God, he’s at least going to get some laughs out of them.

The Rejection Chronicles

8th July 2015 by admin No Comments

As I begin the submission process again for my new book, I understand that rejection is inevitable. It’s just part of the game, and as writers, we shouldn’t take it personally. We really shouldn’t, even though that’s certainly what we always want to do. It happens to everybody, I know. That said, it always seems like there’s a complete disconnect in what they tell me and what I actually hear.

Email: Reid, thank you for sharing your story with us.

We must decline. Hope it finds a good home soon.

What they meant: Reid, our auto-mailer requires us to enter a first name, Reid, so you feel as if you’re receiving personal rejection, hand-crafted just for Reid. We appreciate you sharing your story with us, Reid, but no. Nope nope no. Hope it finds a home soon, Reid, somewhere where we will never see it again. Perhaps you could have it printed on the inside of cereal boxes, or use the pages to drain fishgrease.

– Reid Kerr’s hobby is making things up.


Gig Bagged

8th July 2015 by admin No Comments

Writing gigs this week…12,000 words on high school football…finished. Final score, 1300 Coaching Cliches, 143 players with upside who are great athletes and real leaders, 63 bottles of water, 29 episodes of Gossip Girl watched in the background, and 1 bout with stomach flu. Just to make things more interesting, I also threw in a thousand words for Entertainment Guide Magazine on a band and two of my semi-patented sports humor columns for the Tyler (TX) newspaper.

Just waiting for the flu to fully recede so I’ll feel safe to go back to my normal daily workload of writing and drinking.

– Reid Kerr can’t wait until we’ve advanced to the point of e-vomiting.

The Spam Wars, Round Two

24th March 2015 by admin No Comments

As I’ve proven before (evidence here), there are some days I literally have nothing to do other than sit around and jack with spammers who are trying to do the same to me. I was recently friended on Facebook by a classic fake account, pretty girl, one picture, no friends in common. I was ready for almost anything, and they didn’t disappoint. Apparently, this one account was used by a whole pile of spam douchenozzles, since they kept coming back to me days and days later without realizing they had already tried.

Disclaimer: All of these things really happened.

Spammy O’Spammerson: hello how you doing and how is your family and friends.
Reid Kerr: Great! And you? How’s your pets and neighbors?
Spammy: hello
Reid: Howdy!

Spammy: how is your day and how is the weather over there
Reid: The weather is wonderful! No snow, but it’s as wet as Aquaman’s underpants. How are you?

Spammy: im doing good
Reid: That’s great! My granddad always said it was better to be doing good than feeling good or looking good or going good, and we wound up electing him to Congress before the scandal about the Cool Whip lobbyist and the Great Dane.

Spammy: woow that’s good to hear
Do you have time to talk
Reid: Oh, absolutely! That sounds like more fun than what I was going to do today, I had planned to go down to the park and feed the ducks to the homeless.

Spammy: ok and where is your state
Reid: I’m in Kentucky. Northern part. Right up here where Jack Daniels took most of his lovers. Geographically, I mean, not in terms of positions. And where are you from?

Spammy: well im in ghana
have you ever been in ghana befoere
Reid: Not that I’m aware of.

Spammy: ok and how

(hours later)

Spammy: hello there and how you doing
Reid: I am doing well! And how are you doing things?

Spammy: well doing good too
Reid: Good! And how are things going for you this time?

Spammy: all is good here
and you
Reid: All is good here! All the time!

Spammy: and how are your famile again
Reid: They are again good! And yours?!?

Spammy: well i live alone
Reid: That must be fun. No one can eat your leftovers.

Spammy: well been dirvoced
Reid: Good for you! Best investment I ever made. I got one of those lawyers from the TV commercials that drives a tank to handle mine.

Spammy: is hi a friend
Reid: He’s a great friend! We go fishing a couple of times a year, up on Lake WannaLikkaShlong. We fish for seabass, orca, trout, things like that.

Spammy: i wish i where there
Reid: You’d love it there. The mountains in the distance by the incinerator piles really light up at night.

Spammy: ok
and did you have a pic of your friend
are you with me

(hours go by)

Spammy: hello
Reid: Yes, and you?

Spammy: well am doing dood
nice talking to you again
Reid: And me too!

Spammy: you are more much welcome
where do you live
Reid: I am from Cincinnati, currently. But I moved here from Fungus, New Mexico. It’s beautiful there. The summers are so mild you can make salsa right in your mailbox. Where are you from?

Spammy: canada
how old are you
Reid: I am 37. I can always remember that because I share a birthday with Bo Peep. How old are you?

Spammy: 27
you married
Reid: I am married to a wonderful woman! Her name is Inga, and she is my soulmate. We share a single heart, eyebrow, and soul. We have three kids, once of each. Are you married?

Spammy: What do U do for work?
Reid: I’m a malefactory engineer, I work down at Cincinnati Amalgamated Refuse. What do you do for a living?

Spammy: I stay home and take care of my sick mother.
Reid: Good! Modern medicine is doing wonderful things these days with snotgrafts, Glad she’s doing better!

(the next day)

Spammy: Hello
Reid: Howdy!

Spammy: hello thank you for accepting my invitation thank you
Reid: Howdy!

Spammy: coment are you?
Reid: I am coment fine! How are things on you?

Spammy: yes of me is jenifer you?
Reid: Very much! I am of Jennifer very.

Spammy: How old are you? what do you do beautiful in life? you have children? you love what’s beautiful? you’re single for how long?
Reid: I’m 27, single all my life and living it! I sleep under a bridge, no kids, just a chicken. How about you?

Spammy: I a girl of 7 years
Reid: Can you drive a car?
Spammy: yes of course requests and why you think that?
Reid: You said you were 7 years.

Spammy: I am the caps you?
Reid: Caps? Of course! And you?

Spammy: I do hairstyle
Reid: Cool. I usually have hair. What’s your favorite fruit? I like the tambourine.

Spammy: I like orange
Reid: Delicious! Also a good color. Grapes should just be called purples. Except for the green ones, I mean. Those should only be taken rectally.

Spammy: ok you live alone?
Reid: Yes, ever since the fumigation. Do you?

Spammy: I life with my daughter. that you are looking for here?
Reid: I are looking for things that here are usually found on not the way.

Spammy: I am a woman such a little reserved intelligent single comprehensive open to other shy tolérantes- very good cook I support in difficult times and other moments of joy and would love to meet you and talk with you a dialogue further…
Reid: That sounds wonderful to meet! I have plenty of room under the bridge. Where do you living?

Spammy: in canada but I sent Ivory Coast with my daughter and you?
Reid: I’m in Montana. The state that means well. Is that too far away to meet for dinner? I’m already defrosting some wildebeest steaks for you.

Spammy: ok what do you do in life?
Reid: I’m a pallbearer. And you?

Spammy: I do hair and tell me what you like in a woman?
Reid: I like a woman to have hair, definitely. In some places more than others. What color is your hairs?

Spammy: You see (sends obviously fake pic)
Reid: Ah, that’s nice. is that a Vera Schlong dress? Very pretty. Burrito.

Spammy: yes i do
Reid: So what are you looking for?

Spammy: I look for a man with whom make my living
Reid: So some guy who’ll just pay you to style his hair?

Spammy: you speak of?
Reid: Verily, I speak thereof. Hair for the future. The hair up there.

Spammy: you talk about that in the end because I do it’s more what you tell me

(finally looks at my Facebook account)

Spammy: but I do not understand you then you called me not all the truth about you I see that you are 45 and you being married but you called me contrais everything I saw there????
Reid: This is my brother’s account. He’s undercover with Shield. I’m not supposed to talk about it.

Spammy:  but tell me and you, you do not have a Facebook account
Reid: No. I have a MySpace, though.

And finally, they gave up.

– Reid Kerr owes a Nigerian prince money. You can find his first book, “The Great Texas Trailer Park Escape,” on Amazon and Barnes and, or if you’ve already purchased it, in your hand.