One of the Odder Answers to the question "WHY'D YA GET THE LASIK EYE SURGERY?"

I'm a bit embarrassed to say but, to be honest since you asked so nicely and all, it's mainly due to fuckin' up my daily pre-work pastry selection at the corner gas station. See, I'm a bearclaw guy. Loved since I was a kid...you could say I cultivated a very selective swee' tooth for 'em thanks to that fact that my old man had a five year stint between tours in 'Nam at the Winchell's down the street from where we squatted. Pa knew his paws, as it were. In short order (not short order cook) it became a daily desire that I addressed...a gift to my gullet...by buying one everyday before work. Well, growing older has, unfortunately, robbed me of my previously eagle-eye squints status and I ended up having to get glasses. Problem is, the only optometrist in town is a fuck-off and has consistently screwed my prescription up for the last 15 years. Thus, more times than not thanks to this shoddy spectacles, I end up misidentifying the apple fritters or the cruellers or the friggin' eclairs for my precious, precious bearclaws. And, goddammit, that is not the way I want to start off my day when I get to work, fire up the 'puter, and expect the glorious taste of BC betwixt my choppers and instead I'm greeted with, say, the fruity filling squirt of a jelly-infused fucking peach kolache or whatever the fuck ill-chosen pastry these damn cheaters have caused me to purchase. Fuckin' co-workers think it's hilarious to hear my horrified screams 4 days out of 5. No more. The surgery's solved this problem and I'm the proud possessor of pristine peepers and a pleasured palette.

T