Here's something you don't see every day--Shriners at the damn IHOP. All SB knows about Shriners is that they seem to like the IHOP, and they're all a bunch of fat, over-sized motherfuckers (connection to IHOP or coincidence?) who get some kind of hard-on from riding around in little cars. I don't get it. I was born and raised in this country, and there's a lot of shit I don't understand. I'm not ashamed to admit it either.My friend, Dinh, who grew up in Vietnam, was always trying to figure the Americans out. I told him to stop trying. "Dinh," I said, "my ass grew up here, and I don't understand my countrymen." Wisely, Dinh, who didn't talk much anyway (in fact, it took him most of a year to say once sentence to me), except on smoke breaks, when you couldn't get away from his ass, just nodded his head. "Don't try to figure it out. You'll just drive yourself crazy," I said.
Also, on a non-interesting footnote, Dinh's last name was also Dinh. So, his full Americanized name was Dinh Dinh, which is what the Moms used to call supper sometimes.
