You're a morning radio DJ and your audience can't get enough of the crank calls you make. Your most memorable calls include the one where you were a chief surgeon at a hospital telling a woman that her husband just had a baseball bat removed from his rectum, the one where you were a police officer telling a woman that her husband was found in a motel room outside of town with a golf club inside his rectum, and the one where you were Ed McMahon from Publisher's Clearing House telling a woman that when you went to visit her husband at home to give him his winning check, he had a rolling pin in his rectum.
Your audience loves you, but they also understand that you were adopted. They're aware of your worry that every time you make a crank call, it's your biological mother on the other end of the line and though you don't know it, you're wasting your one chance of talking to her by telling her what her husband (your biological dad?) has stuck inside his rectum. Which is why today you should make it a policy to end every phone call with, "By the way, just in case you're my real Mom I want you to know that I'm happy with my life and I understand that we all have difficult decisions to make. But not a day goes by that I don't hope that you know who I am, and that you're listening, and that you're proud of me." Then just play that "Fart Orchestra" CD. Your audience will indulge you. Your audience worships you and they would murder a shopkeeper if you told them today was "AM Nuthouse's Murder A Shopkeeper Monday."
Happy "Just In Case You're My Real Mom" Day!
