With great power comes great something something
A nice lady — or possibly a man, I forget what was scrawled in the return address — wrote to me the other day to offer me, not tips on where to find the rare and elusive chocolate Graham cracker, but how to MAKE THEM MYSELF! It’s an incredibly kind gesture, but I fear this lady, or possibly gentleman, overestimates my sense of responsibility in these weird times. Can I really be trusted with that kind of power? If I had the ability to manufacture chocolate Graham crackers on my own, I might end up ruling the entire . . . But let’s forget about this for now. I gotta go whisk my batter.
A world gone sporkless
In a world where normalcy already seems to be slipping from our grasp, I honestly wonder how much more we can take. The latest travesty? Got me some grub from KFC the other night and what did they include for utensils? A plastic spoon and a plastic knife. No spork. NO! SPORK! The conspiratorially minded among you will know what this means. When an honest man or woman is deprived of a simple spork, you know that all hope is lost. It’s in all the prophecies.
The takeover is underway
Well, I know now that my computer is part of the takeover because when I try to write “spork,” it labels it as a misspelling. A non-word. My friends, if there’s a world where “spork” is not part of the language, I don’t want to live there.
‘Well, at least it’s not snow’
How many times have you said this already, as gloomy November delivers rain instead of the white doo-doo? I’m up to a half-dozen already. We should take a tally at the end of the year to see who’s in the lead. Who will win? Well, if we keep getting rain instead of snow, we all win! Except those weirdos who LIKE snow, but they’re not allowed to play. Because they’re weird.
Scan your next item! Do it now!
So, have you ever been at the self-checkouts at the grocery stores with a line forming behind you? The pressure is immense. Whenever that happens to me, I want to get in and out as quickly as possible to show people I’m a sport. A team player. But that’s when the ^%$#@! shopping bags refuse to open and you have to stand there like a moron for 10 minutes trying to peel the two halves of them apart. And then, when you’re ringing up your loot, for no reason at all the machine will suddenly conspire against you and the lady inside the machine yells out “PLEASE WAIT FOR ASSISTANCE! HEY EVERYBODY! WE GOT US A GUY TOO STUPID TO USE A GLORIFIED CALCULATOR OVER HERE!” And you can hear the whole store groaning with impatience and disgust. It’s awful. Happened to a guy I know.
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