And the last known survivor stalks his prey in the night

All right.

I heard the greatest story in the world the other day from my friend, Jaimie. Jaimie often has killer tales, but this is, hands down, my favourite. I couldn't even hope to tell the story as well as she did, so I'll just quote her directly:At first, there’s just the hum of the connection. Then, mumbling, a man with a thick South Carolina accent gives his name and something that might be a phone number, and says that he’s looking for a book. Then nothing again. Suddenly, swelling out of the silence are the pulsing strains of “Eye of the Tiger”. Duh. DUH duh DUH. DUH duh DUH. DUM DUM DUM! The music continues on through the chorus, and I’m thinking, ‘okay, he forgot to hang up’. Then, the chorus ends in a fist-pumping fury, and he says “Thank you.” and hangs up.

Isn't that great? I think it says a lot about telephone etiquette. Being polite on the phone just isn't enough, folks. You gotta ROCK! How much you wanna bet that this man has a mullet, a thin Pedro-stache and a Confederate flag thumbtacked to his wall?

So, whatever you do today, ROCK IT, MAN!