True Story: The first time Pump met me he says he knew he liked me. Not that he thought I was the one or that he would marry me, just that he knew he liked me. Why, you ask?

Pump:   Because you stood up in class (in college) and had big boobs and you were a wreck and you used big words, like knowledge.

True Story: The first time Pump asked me to “hang out” with him we were sitting on a bench in a campus building.

Pump: You want to go to the $2 movie tonight?

Me: Sure.

Pump: Can I borrow $2 dollars?

True Story:  The first time Pump and I went on a date and shared a meal together he looked at me across the table and said, “You know…  People die”…

True story: The first time my Mom & brother met Pump, he and I were living in Los Angeles. My brother came down from San Fransisco and my Mom came out from Alabama. (Thanks Goodness. I had exactly $1 dollar to my name when she stepped off the plane).

We went to Santa Monica Pier. My mom & brother had known Pump for about 2 hours. He had already yelled, “Hey Fuckers” to another road-rager in the car in front of my Southern Belle Mom. Walking down the pier, Pump farted out loud and blamed it on my brother.

We went to a restaurant for lunch. Pump leaves the table to go to the bathroom. I look at my family members with a “well, what do you think” look.

Mom:   Well, I think he’s kind of an innocent.

My brother and I:   No, he’s an idiot…