12E: Advanced Paragraphs RLA5

12E: Advanced Paragraphs RLA5
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Lesson 12E: Advanced Paragraphs RLA5 Quiz
Question #1: Chocolates

Every now and again a plain grey cardboard box was dished out to each boy in our house, and this, believe it or not, was a present from the great chocolate manufacturer, Cadbury. Inside the box there were twelve bars of chocolate, all of different shapes, all with different fillings and all with numbers from one to twelve stamped on the chocolate underneath. Eleven of these bars were new inventions from the factory. The twelfth was the ‘control’ bar, one that we all knew well, usually a Cadbury’s Coffee Cream bar. Also in the box was a sheet of paper with the numbers one to twelve on it as well as two blank columns, one for giving marks to each chocolate from naught to ten, and the other for comments.

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Question #2: Chocolates

All we were required to do in return for this splendid gift was to taste very carefully each bar of chocolate, give it marks, and make an intelligent comment on why we liked or disliked it.

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Question #3: Chocolates

It was a clever stunt. Cadbury was using some of the greatest chocolate-bar experts in the world to test out their new inventions. We were of a sensible age, between thirteen and eighteen, and we knew intimately every chocolate bar in existence, from the Milk Flake to the Lemon Marshmallow. Quite obviously our opinions on anything new would be valuable. All of us entered into this game with great gusto, sitting in our studies and nibbling each bar with the air of connoisseurs, giving our marks and making our comments. “Too subtle for the common palate,” was one note that I remember writing down.

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Question #4: Chocolates

For me, the importance of all this was that I began to realize that the large chocolate companies actually did possess inventing rooms and they took their inventing very seriously. I used to imagine a long, white room, like a laboratory, with pots of chocolate and fudge and all sorts of other delicious fillings bubbling away on the stoves, while men and women in white coats moved between the bubbling pots, tasting and mixing and concocting their wonderful new inventions. I used to imagine myself working in one of these labs and suddenly I would come up with something so absolutely, unbearably delicious that I would grab it in my hand and go rushing out of the lab and along the corridor and right into the office of the great Mr. Cadbury himself. “I’ve got it, sir!” I would shout, putting the chocolate in front of him. “It’s fantastic! It’s fabulous! It’s marvelous! It’s irresistible!”

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Question #5: Chocolates

Slowly, the great man would pick up my newly invented chocolate and he would take a small bite. He would roll it round in his mouth. Then all at once, he would leap up from his chair crying, “You’ve got it! It's a miracle!” He would slap me on the back and shout, “We’ll sell it by the million! We will sweep the world with this one! How on earth did you do it? Your salary is doubled!”

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Question #6: Chocolates

It was lovely dreaming those dreams, and I have no doubt at all that, thirty-five years later, when I was looking for a plot for my second book for children, I remembered those little cardboard boxes and the newly-invented chocolates inside them, and I began to write a book called Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.

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Question #7: Chips Ahoy!

Have you ever wondered how the potato chip originated? It started back in the year 1853, when a humble-yet-worthy chef by the name of George Crum was known for making tasty, traditionally thick French fries in an elegant resort in Saratoga Springs, New York.

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Question #8: Chips Ahoy!

One day, George’s fame was challenged when a demanding upper-class patron did not view his culinary skills positively. The customer was not satisfied with George’s fries and sent them back because he thought they were too thick. Humble George made the customer another batch of fries. This next try didn’t seem to please the customer any more than the first did because the patron once again rejected the crispy treat. George, becoming both frustrated and angry, decided to teach his customer a lesson. He cooked the fries in hot grease, which resulted in wafer-thin, crispy, brown fries. This new batch could not be speared in the traditional manner with a fork because his intention was to get the customer angry. His stunt backfired: The customer loved the fries so much that he decided to share his delight with the other restaurant patrons. George’s chips became a hit, and everyone wanted his newfound creation, which initially was called Saratoga Chips. Eventually, the name became what we are familiar with today: potato chips.

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Question #9: Chips Ahoy!

The success of the potato-chip frenzy allowed George to open his own restaurant, and people came just to eat his famous chips. Initially he catered to wealthy clients, but the trendy potato chip caught on so quickly and became so popular that, in 1895, a man by the name of William Tapperton from Cleveland, Ohio, decided to bake his own crispy taters in his home kitchen, and he sold them to local stores. He eventually expanded his business by converting his barn into the first potato-chip factory.

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Question #10: Chips Ahoy!

In the 1920s, the first mechanical potato peeler was invented, and the ease of making chips allowed for faster production. The production expansion allowed the chips to reach grocery stores throughout the country and they were sold as a snack food.

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Question #11: Chips Ahoy!

Today, Americans, who consume more potato chips than anyone else in the world, love this popular salty snack. Over the years, potato chips have diversified in variety, and their many flavors include barbecue, sour cream and onion, and salt and vinegar. There are even chocolate-covered potato chips for those who like the combination of sweet and salty. Today, over $6 billion worth of chips are sold each year in the U.S.

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Question #12: FISH CHEEKS

I fell in love with the minister's son the winter I turned fourteen. He was not Chinese, but as white as Mary in the manger. For Christmas I prayed for this blond-haired boy, Robert, and a slim new American nose.
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Question #13: FISH CHEEKS

When I found out that my parents had invited the minister's family over for Christmas Eve dinner, I cried. What would Robert think of our shabby Chinese Christmas? What would he think of our noisy Chinese relatives who lacked proper American manners? What terrible disappointment would he feel upon seeing not a roasted turkey and sweet potatoes but Chinese food?
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Question #14: FISH CHEEKS

On Christmas Eve I saw that my mother had outdone herself in creating a strange menu. She was pulling black veins out of the backs of fleshy prawns. The kitchen was littered with appalling mounds of raw food: A slimy rock cod with bulging eyes that pleaded not to be thrown into a pan of hot oil. Tofu, which looked like stacked wedges of rubbery white sponges. A bowl soaking dried fungus back to life. A plate of squid, their backs crisscrossed with knife markings so they resembled bicycle tires.
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Question #15: FISH CHEEKS

And then they arrived – the minister's family and all my relatives in a clamor of doorbells and rumpled Christmas packages. Robert grunted hello, and I pretended he was not worthy of existence.
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Question #16: FISH CHEEKS

Dinner threw me deeper into despair. My relatives licked the ends of their chopsticks and reached across the table, dipping them into the dozen or so plates of food.
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Question #17: FISH CHEEKS

Robert and his family waited patiently for platters to be passed to them. My relatives murmured with pleasure when my mother brought out the whole steamed fish. Robert grimaced. Then my father poked his chopsticks just below the fish eye and plucked out the soft meat. "Amy, your favorite," he said, offering me the tender fish cheek. I wanted to disappear.
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Question #18: FISH CHEEKS

At the end of the meal my father leaned back and belched loudly, thanking my mother for her fine cooking. "It's a polite Chinese custom to show you are satisfied," explained my father to our astonished guests. Robert was looking down at his plate with a reddened face. The minister managed to muster up a quiet burp. I was stunned into silence for the rest of the night.
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Question #19: FISH CHEEKS

After everyone had gone, my mother said to me, "You want to be the same as American girls on the outside." She handed me an early gift. It was a miniskirt in beige tweed. "But inside you must always be Chinese. You must be proud you are different. Your only shame is to have shame."
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Question #20: FISH CHEEKS

And even though I didn't agree with her then, I knew that she understood how much I had suffered during the evening's dinner. It wasn't until many years later—long after I had gotten over my crush on Robert—that I was able to fully appreciate her lesson and the true purpose behind our particular menu.
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Question #21: FISH CHEEKS

For Christmas Eve that year, she had chosen all my favorite foods.

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Question #22: CHRISTMAS SHOPPING: A SURVIVOR'S GUIDE

Once again, we come to the Holiday Season, a deeply religious time that each of us observes, in his own way, by going to the mall of his choice.
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Question #23: CHRISTMAS SHOPPING: A SURVIVOR'S GUIDE

In the old days, it was not called the Holiday Season; the Christians called it "Christmas" and went to church; the Jews called it "Hanukkah" and went to synagogue; the atheists went to gatherings and partied hearty. People passing each other on the street would say "Merry Christmas!" or "Happy Hanukkah!" or (to the atheists) "Be safe!"
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Question #24: CHRISTMAS SHOPPING: A SURVIVOR'S GUIDE

These days, people say "Season's Greetings," which, when you think about it, means nothing. It's like walking up to somebody and saying "Appropriate Remark" in a loud, cheerful voice. But "Season's Greetings" is safer, because it does not refer to any actual religion. Someday, I imagine, even "Season's Greetings" will be considered too religious, and we'll celebrate the Holiday Season by saying "Have a nice day."
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Question #25: CHRISTMAS SHOPPING: A SURVIVOR'S GUIDE

Some of you may be unhappy with this dereligionizing of the Holiday Season, and you may have decided that, this year, you're going to celebrate it the old-fashioned way, with your family sitting around stringing cranberries and exchanging humble, handmade gifts, like on The Walton’s. Well, you can forget it. If everybody pulled that kind of subversive stunt, the economy would collapse overnight. The government would have to intervene: It would form a cabinet-level Department of Holiday Gift-Giving, which would spend billions and billions of tax dollars to buy Barbie dolls and electronic games, which it would drop on the populace from Air Force jets, killing and maiming thousands. So, for the good of the nation, you should go along with the Holiday Program. This means you should get a large sum of money and go to a mall.
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Question #26: CHRISTMAS SHOPPING: A SURVIVOR'S GUIDE

Unless you live in Indonesia, there should be several malls within five miles of your home. It makes no difference whatsoever which one you go to: Under federal law, all malls in the United States must have the same 42 chain stores. You have your chain bookstores, your chain clothing stores, your chain shoe stores, your chain restrooms, your chain electronic-game arcades.
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Question #27: CHRISTMAS SHOPPING: A SURVIVOR'S GUIDE

The basic idea behind malls is that they are more convenient than cities. Cities contain streets, which are dangerous and crowded and difficult to park in. Malls, on the other hand, have parking lots, which are also dangerous and crowded and difficult to park in, but - here is the big difference - in mall parking lots, THERE ARE NO RULES. You're allowed to do anything. You can drive as fast as you want in any direction you want. I was once driving in a mall parking lot when my car was struck by a pickup truck being driven backward by a squat man with a tattoo that said "Charlie" on his forearm, who got out and explained to me, in great detail, why the accident was my fault, his reasoning being that he was violent and muscular, whereas I was neither. This kind of reasoning is legally valid in mall parking lots.
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Question #28: CHRISTMAS SHOPPING: A SURVIVOR'S GUIDE

So when you get to the mall for your holiday shopping, the first thing to remember is that you should not park in the parking lot and walk to the mall buildings, because you will probably get killed. Instead, drive your car right up to and, if possible, right into, the mall building. This is perfectly legal; people do it all the time. In almost every mall I've ever been to, the corridors were littered with cars, recreational vehicles, snowmobiles and motorboats left by smart parkers.
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Question #29: CHRISTMAS SHOPPING: A SURVIVOR'S GUIDE

Once you're safely in the mall, you should tie your children to you with ropes so the other shoppers won't try to buy them. Holiday shoppers have been whipped into a frenzy by months of holiday advertisements, and they will buy anything small enough to stuff into a shopping bag. If your children object to being tied, threaten to take them to see Santa Claus; that ought to shut them up.
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Question #30: CHRISTMAS SHOPPING: A SURVIVOR'S GUIDE

Now you're ready for the actual shopping. Your goal should be to get it over with as quickly as possible, because the longer you stay in the mall, the longer your children will have to listen to holiday songs on the mall public-address system, and many of these songs can damage children emotionally. For example: Frosty the Snowman is about a snowman who befriends some children, plays with them until they learn to love him, then melts. And Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer is about a young reindeer who, because of a physical deformity, is treated as an outcast by the other reindeer. Then along comes good, old Santa. Does he ignore the deformity? Does he look past Rudolph's nose and respect Rudolph for the sensitive reindeer he is underneath? No. Santa asks Rudolph to guide his sleigh, as if Rudolph were nothing more than a cherry-sized headlight with legs and a tail. So, unless you want your children exposed to this kind of insensitivity, you should shop quickly.
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Question #31: CHRISTMAS SHOPPING: A SURVIVOR'S GUIDE

Here is a very efficient shopping method: Divide the amount of money you have by the number of people on your gift list to get an average dollar amount per person. So, if you have $160, and you want to buy gifts for 10 people, your average is $16 per person. Now find something that costs $16, and buy 10 of whatever it is. You'll find many useful gifts in this price range; for example, you could get 10 family-sized bottles of vitamin B. Everyone, young and old alike, can use vitamin B, and your children are sure to shriek with delight when they find it under the tree.
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Question #32: CHRISTMAS SHOPPING: A SURVIVOR'S GUIDE

If you want to buy gifts that are a little more personal, you should follow these guidelines:
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Question #33: CHRISTMAS SHOPPING: A SURVIVOR'S GUIDE

Men are amused by almost any idiot thing—that is why professional ice hockey is so popular—so buying gifts for them is easy. But you should never buy them clothes. Men believe they already have all the clothes they will ever need, and new ones make them nervous. For example, your average man has 84 ties, but he wears, at most, only three of them. He has learned, through humiliating trial and error, that if he wears any of the other 81 ties, his wife will probably laugh at him ("You're not going to wear THAT tie with that suit, are you?"). So, he has narrowed it down to three safe ties, and has gone several years without being laughed at. If you give him a new tie, he will pretend to like it, but deep inside he will hate you.
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Question #34: CHRISTMAS SHOPPING: A SURVIVOR'S GUIDE

If you want to give a man something practical, consider tires. More than once, I would have gladly traded all the gifts I got for a new set of tires.
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Question #35: CHRISTMAS SHOPPING: A SURVIVOR'S GUIDE

When purchasing a gift for women, again, you should avoid buying clothes, but not because women don't like clothes. The problem is sizes. First, women's clothing sizes don't mean anything. Suppose you're looking at a dress, and the tag says it's a size 14. You could measure that dress with every known measuring instrument, checking for every known unit of measurement, and you would never find any dimension that corresponded to the same dimension on any other size-14 dress. Not only that, but chances are you would never find any woman in the entire world who would admit to being a size 14.
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Question #36: CHRISTMAS SHOPPING: A SURVIVOR'S GUIDE

Another problem is color. Women do not see color the way men do. Suppose several women are in a paint store, looking at a sample of orange paint. The paint-can label may say "orange," and the paint may appear obviously orange to a male, but the women will never use the word "orange" to describe it. They will say things like: "It has a lot of blue" or "It's much too gray." Don't ask me to explain it. All I know is, if a woman tells a man she'd like a green scarf for Christmas, he'll go out and buy a scarf that he believes to be green, based on his concept of "green," which he got from crayons in the second grade. She will look at the scarf as if it were covered with maggots, then show it to her friends and say: "I asked Harold for a green scarf, and just look at what he got me." They'll all have a good laugh, and she'll return it.
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Question #37: CHRISTMAS SHOPPING: A SURVIVOR'S GUIDE

So the safest gifts for women are expensive little bottles of colorless liquids, which are sold at cosmetic counters under names such as "Eau de Water" and "Endless Night of Love."
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Question #38: CHRISTMAS SHOPPING: A SURVIVOR'S GUIDE

Finding gifts for children is easy. You never have to figure out what to get for children, because they will tell you exactly what they want. They spend months and months researching these kinds of things by watching Saturday-morning cartoon-show advertisements. Make sure you get your children exactly what they ask for, even if you disapprove of their choices. If your child thinks he wants Murderous Bob, the Doll with the Face You Can Rip Right Off, you'd better get it. You may be worried that it might help to encourage your child's antisocial tendencies, but believe me, you have not seen antisocial tendencies until you've seen a child who is convinced that he or she did not get the right gift.
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Question #39: Hey, You’re Driving Me Crazy!

There is a bill before the Florida Legislature that would require drivers over age 75 to—get this—pass hearing AND vision tests before they get their licenses renewed.
Naturally, this bill is controversial. As well it should be. We Floridians have grown accustomed to certain fundamental rights. One of them is the right for elders to wear skimpy, form-fitting clothing designed for skinny teenagers even if we don’t look like them. Another one is the right, when we are in public, to shout into our cellular phones, so that everybody within 50 yards of us can enjoy our conversation, especially if it's about a highly personal matter. (``SO THEY FOUND A COUPLE OF POLYPS UP THERE. RIGHT, POLYPS. ONE OF THEM IS THE SIZE OF A THUMB. RIGHT, THAT IS A BIG POLYP. THAT'S EXACTLY WHAT I SAID TO THEM, I SAID, `THAT'S A BIG POLYP!' SO ANYWAY, THEY TOOK THIS THING THAT LOOKS LIKE ONE OF THOSE ROTO-ROOTER THINGS, AND THEY STUCK THE END . . .'')
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Question #40: Hey, You’re Driving Me Crazy!

But of all the fundamental Floridian rights, the one we cling to most fiercely is the right to drive. EVERYBODY in Florida enjoys this right, as far as I can tell. NOBODY is denied a driver's license, including escaped parrots that happen to fly into the driver's-license bureau. That's why we have such a marvelous diversity of drivers down here, driving according to such marvelously diverse systems. More than once I have seen, with my own eyes, motorists on I-95 stop their cars in a traffic lane because they passed their exit, and then back up, right there on the interstate. If you honk at these people, they yell at you and gesture angrily. Their position is, ``Hey, YOU never missed an exit?''
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Question #41: THE HAIR APPARENT

I have a letter here from Mrs. Belle Ehrlich, of San Jose, Calif., who feels I should get a new hairdo. To quote her directly: "I enjoy reading most of your columns . . . but your hairdo in your photo sure looks DATED and NOT at all flattering or becoming, to say the least. If you are still sporting that awful hairdo, I suggest you go to a good hair stylist to give you a new and better hairdo. I hope you don't mind my criticism, it's nothing personal -- just a suggestion."
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Question #42: THE HAIR APPARENT

Mind? Ha! MIND? Of course not, Mrs. Belle Ehrlich of San Jose! As a journalist who seeks to inform his readers about topics of vital concern to the nation and the world, I welcome insulting remarks about my hair!
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Question #43: THE HAIR APPARENT

OK, perhaps I am a bit sensitive about my hair. I have been sensitive about my hair since second grade, when the Kissing Girls first swung into action. You probably had Kissing Girls at your elementary school too: they roamed the playground, chasing after selected boys and trying to kiss them. We boys carried on as though we would have preferred to undergo the Red-Ants-Eat-Your-Eyelids-Off Torture than get kissed, but of course we wanted desperately to be selected. And I almost never was. The boys who were selected had wavy hair. Wavy hair was big back then, and I did not have it. I had straight hair, and it did not help that my father cut it.
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Question #44: THE HAIR APPARENT

You should know that my father was a fine, decent and sensitive man, but unfortunately, he had no more fashion awareness than a baked potato. His idea of snazzy dressing was to wear a suit jacket and suit pants that both originated as part of the same suit. He would have worn the same tie to work for 42 consecutive years if my mother had let him. So the way he would cut my hair is, he'd put me on a stool, and he'd start cutting hair off one side of my head with the electric clippers, then he'd walk around me and attempt, relying on memory, to make the other side of my head look similar. Which of course he could never quite do, so he would head on back around to take a stab at Side One again, and he'd keep this up for some time, and all I can say is, thank heavens they had a little plastic guard on the electric clippers so that you couldn't make the hair any shorter than a quarter-inch, because otherwise my father, with the best of intentions, trying to even me up, would have started shaving off slices of actual tissue until eventually I would have been able to turn my head sideways and stick it through a mail slot. As it was, in photographs taken back then, I look like an extremely young Marine or a cancer patient.
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Question #45: THE HAIR APPARENT

It also did not help that in third grade I became the first kid in the class to get glasses, and we are talking serious 1950s horn rims of the style that when you put them on a third- grade child, especially one with a comical haircut, you get a Mister Peepers effect such that everybody assumes the child must be a Goody-Two-Shoes Teacher's Pet science-fair-oriented little dweeb. And it also did not help that I was a late bloomer. All of us boys were ready to catch up to the girls’ height. About two years earlier, the girls had very suddenly, in fact I think it was all on the same day, shown up at school a foot taller than us. So, I was certainly looking forward to growing in both the height and looks department; and you can just imagine how betrayed I felt when it started happening to the other boys, even boys whom I had considered my friends, well before it happened to me. They got ahead of me then, and sometimes I think I never really caught up. I am 38 years old now, and I have yet to develop hair on my arms. Isn't that supposed to happen, in men? I see men much younger than myself, with hairy arms, and I think: Does this mean I'm not done a real man yet?
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Question #46: THE HAIR APPARENT

I realize I sound insecure here, but if you really wanted to see insecure, you should have seen me in eighth grade. I was a mess. That was why I developed a sense of humor. I needed something to do at parties. The other boys, the boys who had wavy hair and reasonable looks would be necking with girls, and I would be over by the record player, a short chemo victim in horn rimmed spectacles, playing 45s and making jokes to entertain the 10-year-old brother of whomever was holding the party. Now that I'm grown up, I keep reading magazine articles about these surveys where they ask women what they really want most in a man, and they always say: A Sense of Humor. And I think to myself: Right. Sure. Great. NOW you want a sense of humor. But back in the eighth grade, back when it really mattered, what you wanted was a someone as tall with good looks.
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Question #47: THE HAIR APPARENT

And I am not even going to mention here that for several years my hands were covered with warts.
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Question #48: THE HAIR APPARENT

So anyway, Mrs. Belle Ehrlich of San Jose, what I'm trying to say here is: Thanks, thanks a million for taking the time to drop me a note informing me that my hair looks awful. Because now that I'm grown up (except in terms of arm hair) and have contact lenses, and I have finally come to think of myself as very nearly average in appearance, I can handle this kind of helpful criticism, and I will definitely see if I can't find a good hair stylist. This is assuming that I ever leave my bedroom again.
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