There are people who only communicate by shouting. It is a large and spread-out family. Lots of them are spectators at sports venues, sometimes they are children with their eyes pinched tight and red mouths open wide. I worry they will never learn to speak, but it isn't my job to teach them.

I'm not worried, but I am afraid, to be killed in an automobile accident, particularly by someone with a "git r dun" bumper sticker. It's been a longtime goal to think of something to sarcastically ask the owner of said bumper sticker: "So is that a band, or...?" but "git r dun" is both something whose cultural relevance has almost completely passed, and the kind of thing I'm even lamer for devoting thought to than the people who enjoy it. Mentioning this desire shows that not only am I petty, but that I am bitter for having failed to subvert the lowest form of communication imaginable. Any day I'll think of the perfect thing, and that's how we'll all know it's much too late to make fun of that concept and the people who embrace it.

Tomorrow I will make a cole slaw with my favorite pepper, the serrano. I will be placing it atop a barbecue sandwich. This will result in pleasure.

I have found a bar that serves PBR. To ease my shock, the waitress assures me it is available in stores, but she is wrong. I did not tell her this.

Are UFOs real?


At Friday, March 30, 2007, Blogger hank. said...

No, but bigfoot is.


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