Tuesday, January 27, 2004
Sometimes they are near the nucleus; sometimes they are far.
And we can, on an average, determine where they are.
-the most poetic science video ever
I wish i could say that this was a rare occurrence. Fact is, it's become more and more common lately. Hungry-mouthed shoes trying to eat me alive. I glance down in the middle of eating my lunch or a snack or my taxes, and there, nibbling in much the same way as I, is some ragtag gang of disreputable footwear. I never notice them until they have engulfed my foot up to the ankle and commenced digestion. Heaven help me if they should ever get farther than that. With the strength of a million smallish migratory insects or a low-powered reverse vacuum cleaner, i kick the monsters clear across the room, stunning them momentarily. Then i stuff their mouths with grapefruits or another convenient citrus gagging device, and i lock them up in a small cardboard box i found that happens to be the perfect size for keeping the clomping criminals locked up. (I call it my "shoe box" because i impound shoes in it. maybe it'll catch on.) Anyway, i haven't slept for seven weeks now, except for short naps during lunch when there are plenty of people around to wake me if anything should happen. Even then, i'm unsettled by the general oblivion to the ravenous shoe problem - people walk around all day on the verge of digestion! No one is safe. And no one will be safe until the entire worldwide shoe population has its fill to eat and leaves us alone. I suggest stuffing tacos into each shoe you see throughout the day, or better yet, send tons and tons of tacos to me and i'll do it personally. It's the only solution to the overpowering hunger of me. I mean, the shoes. I mean... yeah, the shoes.
And we can, on an average, determine where they are.
-the most poetic science video ever
I wish i could say that this was a rare occurrence. Fact is, it's become more and more common lately. Hungry-mouthed shoes trying to eat me alive. I glance down in the middle of eating my lunch or a snack or my taxes, and there, nibbling in much the same way as I, is some ragtag gang of disreputable footwear. I never notice them until they have engulfed my foot up to the ankle and commenced digestion. Heaven help me if they should ever get farther than that. With the strength of a million smallish migratory insects or a low-powered reverse vacuum cleaner, i kick the monsters clear across the room, stunning them momentarily. Then i stuff their mouths with grapefruits or another convenient citrus gagging device, and i lock them up in a small cardboard box i found that happens to be the perfect size for keeping the clomping criminals locked up. (I call it my "shoe box" because i impound shoes in it. maybe it'll catch on.) Anyway, i haven't slept for seven weeks now, except for short naps during lunch when there are plenty of people around to wake me if anything should happen. Even then, i'm unsettled by the general oblivion to the ravenous shoe problem - people walk around all day on the verge of digestion! No one is safe. And no one will be safe until the entire worldwide shoe population has its fill to eat and leaves us alone. I suggest stuffing tacos into each shoe you see throughout the day, or better yet, send tons and tons of tacos to me and i'll do it personally. It's the only solution to the overpowering hunger of me. I mean, the shoes. I mean... yeah, the shoes.
