August 26, 2010

• All my friends live in Snowville

  Sigh . . . I was hoping there would be a few more puns in the thread. In fact, I thought the whole thing would be puns. 
  
  Oh well. 
  
  Are you busy tonight? 
  
  Yes, yes you are. 
  
  You are busy thanking people.
  
  Why is it that people are never busy writing ‘You’re Welcome’ cards?
  
  Ok. Slow does not rhyme with plow. And I’m okay with that.
  
  I naturally look at people’s feet. Let’s me know where they’re coming from.
  
  But then you must look at the nose. Why? Nobody knows.
  
  But that’s why mountains collide with one another. People who think car accidents are bad probably do not know about plate tectonic theory. 
  
  In that case, they obviously need a crash course on it.
  
  But on we go, never remembering Mr. Potato Head or his friend the bubble bath. But toys can’t swim, and so how many bawling six year-olds have had to bury Mr. Squigglesworth after an afternoon in the bath gone wrong?
  
  That’s the last of the merry-go rounds. Now I guess we’ll have to actually go somewhere.
  
  Perhaps turkeys should be happy that it’s just once a year people focus on killing and eating them. Turkeys should think, ‘At least we’re not cows.’
  
  But that’s the thing about bubbles. They are the easiest things to disappear; even easier than people. Pop! And they are gone.
  
  Get lost in the forest and you’ll find the meaning of life. Swim in the sea and you’ll see the depths of despair. Fly above the heavens and you’ll feel the wonder of existence.
  
  But instead we’ll just suffocate in our inner tubes, but that’s okay, at least they are shiny. 
  
  I like the moon.

  • 5:12 am
  • 3 Comments