“Nothing is fake on the internet.”
– Wise Man
Archive - June 2012
Highway Fireplug. We’ve all wanted to make use of the expensive portable wrench sets father gives us to unscrew a Highway Fireplug, take it home and raise it as a boy. We’ve all, secretly, yearned to bring one up properly, warning it of the mistakes we made, rewarding it with increased responsibilities for public demonstrations of good character. I’m talking about those burned, rusted, certainly forgotten, harsh metal Highway Fireplugs that dot the grassy inclines of our roadway roads. Made in the 1970s. Of taking it home and raising it as a surrogate child. An adoption without the guilt of the “cage selection” stage. Regardless of what the school boards say. Of creating a legacy. It doesn’t have to be a robot! It just needs to be a piece of hollow...
I was wrong. It’s all my fault. I honestly thought that cutting a horse in half would give us two ponies.
Eaten alive by polar bears is not a five year plan.
When one finds himself chief stooge in the lunatic factory what does one do? Tip over a chair and rant about corruption in the birthday cake business? Resign the post and mail cards to mother? No such a position requires bold action and severe moves. It requires commandeering a school bus and forcing the fat kids to stand and issue apologies for their grotesqueries until we reach home. Whether you have the trust of a thousand buffalo men or the ear of just one fool, you must use that power to keep track of your receipts and not be afraid to ask for reimbursements for any and all company related purchases. You must improve the lot of your sad charges. You must direct your rat corner of society towards greater aims. You must get them to stop biting each others’ arms and start biting...
I am somewhat alarmed at the reports that the entire state of Arkansas is on fire. According to the literature they have an abundance of novelty museums and jim-jack shops. I was planning on spending my August volunteering at their Inside-Out Rubber Rabbit Factory and Memorial.
Now it looks like I’ll be using that vacation time to update my skin bandage albums. This year’s special focus is on the circular “mole-wound” category.
Lot of lawnmowers being parked on trampolines lately. I suspect it’s being done to protect them from panthers. This applies to homeowners whose storage sheds are full of bootleg video game cartridges. Rest of them are just crazy.
Observed at nearby drug store check out counter:
10 cans of jumbo black olives, red label Lindsay brand, purchased with coupon, one copy Best of Chuck Berry compilation compact disc, sticker price $4.99. One can albacore tuna chunks in heavy oil, rung up separately, paid for in quarters.
Absolutely no eye contact. None.