So there was this barber named Vinny, and …

… he used to cut the hair of Cowboy players. And one day Michael Irvin walks into the room, and …”

BLLLLLLLLLLLLLLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEECCCCCCCCHHHHHH!!!!

It’s official. With this morning’s 9:10 am interview on Atlanta sports talk—or was it Charlotte?—I have officially told the same story more than 100 times in a 2 1/2-week span. That, my friends, is trippy. I’ve never done crack, but I imagine it has the same impact on one’s brain. Everything feels numb. Your tongue starts to dangle. Your hands shake and your mind produces—literally produces—oozy cheese from your ears. “So there was this barber named Vinny …”

“So there was this barber named Vinny …”

“So there was this barber named Vinny …”

“So there was this barber named Vinny …”

“So there was this barber named Vinny …”

Enough!!! Enough!!! I need my Tylenol! Mommy, where are my blankets? Is Jimmy Carter knocking at my window? Can someone please turn down the Pantera! Help, I’m falling! Where’s the clapper! Where’s the clapper! Someone call 9-1-1!

“So there was this barber named Vinny …”

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