And I Thought Paying $200 For Jeans Was Painful

Yes, I've paid $200 for a pair of jeans. No, I don't still own them. It's a long story and involves African war orphans. (No, really).

The look on my face after forking over the two Benjamins must have been roughly equivalent to what this lady in Nago City came with after trying on her own ill-advised adornments. It was worse for her. I just got stung by a family called Nordstrom; she got stung by a scorpion.

It's not lethal, though they did take her to the hospital. The Chinese bark scorpion isn't native to this island, and probably came along with the jeans when they were imported from China. That's what the authorities say, anyway. My money's on "vengeful ex-boyfriend."

In an unrelated story, the Cowboy Junkies have a song called "Sun Comes Up, It's Tuesday Morning." If you get the right cadence, you can change the chorus to "Sun Comes Out, I'm Going Snorkeling."

And so I am.