Hi!
You may remember me from such posts as the “Nightmarish World of Sid & Marty Krofft”, and “Men’s Room Etiquette”. Or perhaps you remember me from such word paintings as “Bone Machine” and “The Interloper”. But more likely than not you just pulled off of the information superhighway looking for a place to take a piss and get a decent cup of coffee before continuing your journey through cyberspace.
Regardless, WELCOME TO MY FRONT PORCH! Sorry if you have been waiting long. Unfortunately, my day job took over pride of place this week, what with the fact that they pay me to do work on occasion. (Thankfully only the work, and not the pay, is occasional)
My conscience got the best of me, so I felt obligated to write another throwaway post, to help further clutter the electronic landfill that is the internet. What’s a few more ones and zeros on the pile in the grand scheme of things? Just think of it, 5 million years ago a Stegarsauros fell into a tar pit so that I could waste this electricity to bring you a message of absolutely no import. Doesn’t that make you feel guilty? Sheesh, turn off the computer and go weave a hemp rope or something already.
I’ll wait…
There, I bet you feel much better now. If there’s anything that we can all agree upon it’s that free hemp is much better than purchased hemp. The same can be said about cold beer.
OK, I am now officially 270 words into this post and I have absolutely no idea what I am writing or why. Cold medicine really ought to have a warning placed on the label alerting users to the ill effects of blogging under the influence of cold meds. I mean really, can you do more damage to your life, reputation, marriage, and career with a misguided post under the influence of Nyquil, than you can with a DUI? I think the answer is pretty damn clear.
I have now totally lost all idea of what it was I was planning to say, so instead I will just leave you with a mug shot of James Brown. Because, obviously.
He did not get up on the good foot this day, poor bastard.
Maybe it’s my headache, but I seem to be getting confused. Did you say we’re weaving a hemp rope on your front porch to rescue a Stegosaurus with a cold from a tar pit? Okay. As long as there’s beer.
I believe I did, although I’m still not sure how to convince the Stegasaurus to drink the Nyquil.
I can weave rope from animal sinew. How I extract and dry it is another story entirely.
Sometimes you frighten me.
I’m pretty sure this is some sort of placenta reference. Not that I have a one track mind lately.