Could You Sign It To Our Dogs, Who Are Also Named Andrew And Teri?

If you see me smiling, it's because I'm seeing this while I talk to you.

A couple of years ago, me and the wife went on a family-visiting trip to Southern California. The City of Orange to be exact, right smack-dab in the heart of the soul-sucking godforesakeness that is The O.C. A day or so into our trip, I noticed that clothing designer Paul Frank was making a public appearance at the mall in Costa Mesa. So of course off we went.

I can't fully describe the crowd that was eagerly awaiting getting something signed by the creator of Julius the monkey. And when I say 'can't', I mean not without putting myself at risk for a long prison term. Let's just say that aside from a few misunderstood college-aged gay artists, the crowd was primarily in primary school.

So there we were, dutifully waiting our turn with a hundred or so pre-teen girls waiting to have their footy pajamas signed by Mr. Frank. I might have entertained thoughts of backing out, but hell no! You don't go this far and turn back just because you look like some massive pedophile who wandered into the Delia's catalog! Even if it had the entire staff of Macy's checking for Amber alerts, I was gonna meet the man behind the monkey!

Eventually, we got to the front of the line, and after a somewhat embarrassed set of hellos, he signed a picture to us, "Hi Andrew and Teri! Stay Cool! Paul Frank.". I think he was genuinely thrilled that we showed up. Imagine what it must be like to be one of the most popular designers of your time, but only be idolocized by little girls. You know, on second thought, he probably thought we were as creepy as I felt.