If I was to write a book this would be the first sentence.

It is not a novel idea killing oneself, but doing it in a way that prolongs the act; just long enough to have fun while in the process of, perhaps is.

An editor could fix my poor comma and semi-colon choice later...ha!

I've also decided I don't like this in the least...

Carry On Wayward Son #0

So, I don't deserve to call myself a man anymore. I was buying a few shirts when the attractive black cashier lady tells me (after the cashier small talk):
“I like your style; I mean you have a good look.”
I reply, “haha You're too sweet.”
“No, I mean it.”
“Well, thank you I appreciate it”
“I bet you hear that all the time though”
“Not as much as you'd think”
“haha, It's rare to see in a guy, I mean a macho guy right?”
“Oh, yeah definitely haha as macho as any other guy I guess, not like there's anything wrong with not being though.”
“Yeah, some guys take offense.”
“Not me.”
I finished my purchase and left. Excuse me, What! Who am I? If that's all I could accomplish, with a conversation on the topic of a cute girl telling me she finds me attractive, then I just suck. The plus side is I've never been flirted with by a dark skinned lady before; which was awesome.