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cop

Nipples in the Sand

Nipples in the Sand

“Nipples in the Sand” - that's the name of the song I was hired to sing yesterday. It's a ditty that was concocted by the intended bday gram recipient and her sister (my customer) when they were kids. The intended recipient is the lead prosecutor at a Colorado courthouse. Her sister (the customer) hoped to surprise / embarrass / make her sibling laugh. She requested a risque costume, so I suggested a stripper cop look – a ballsy move (even for me) considering the venue. Courthouse security staff were unsurprisingly inquisitive when I arrived in cosplay cop garb with my guitar and music stand in hand. But they hesitantly let me in the lobby and called the target recipient down. I launched into the opening line of “Nipples in the Sand” when she appeared: “Walking down the beach one stormy day...” Probably anticipating the approaching, potentially mortifying hook, she shut me down with the quickness. “Thank you. You're great. I'm sure my sister put you up to this, but you can go now.” For the rest of you, here's how the song climaxes:)

“Nipples in the Sand”

Walking down the beach one stormy day
saw a little orange thing and had to say
Nipples in the sand
Nipples in the sand

In lieu of a full IRL delivery, I filmed a rendition of the tune for the customer. She apologized for her sister's rudeness, including this insightful gem: “Maybe she's still traumatized by the dildo I sent to her work.”

Magic Mushroom Beef

Magic Mushroom Beef

Denver-based sandwich franchise Quizno's recently introduced a magic mushroom sub. The menu addition may have been partially motivated by The Mile High City's recent decision to decriminalize psylocibin mushrooms. Competitor Cheba Hut has been serving a magic mushroom sandwich for eons. On June 21, Cheba Hut enlisted me to don a police uniform and deliver a box of mushrooms and a cease and desist to the flagship location of its rival. An entourage of Cheba Hut employees accompanied me to document the hilarity for posterity.

Upon arrival, I placed the box of mushrooms, the cease and desist and a Bluetooth speaker on the counter and asked for the manager. The store owner was present and seemed genuinely amused by the strange care package presentation. “Thanks for the mushrooms,” he said, grinning knowingly. In lieu of the usual singing, I jammed Tone Loc's “Cheeba Cheeba” on the speaker and began dancing suggestively. Nearby customers were quite befuddled. I removed my navy coat, one sleeve at a time, and swung it over my head like a burlesque performer. I then unbuttoned my blue police shirt, eventually hoisting it above my head in the same helicopter manner.

“No shirt, no shoes, no service,” said the owner once my shirt was off, implying that we'd overstayed our welcome. Beef initiated.