Friday, January 16, 2004
When a man loves a scissor...
In paper doll society, are paper clips hair accessories or ammunition?
Is it all right if I talk to you about celery for a while? Good. Long ago, in the time before history, known to many historians as Prehistory, celery was unrestricted by human dietary whims and vicious razor-toothed furballs. It grew taller than the trees, stronger than steel, and wider than.. also the trees. It was the material of choice for construction of buildings of every sort, from the towering majesty of the Edible Skyscrapers of the West to the mystic Celeryhenge in the British Isles. Not to mention sluices. It was a glorious time to be a vegetable. But terror soon struck the stringy monoliths of green: hordes of wild second graders were let loose on the countryside. They ran around pouring red food coloring on the roots of the celery stalks, causing leaves some 200 feet above to eventually turn a ghastly blood color. The horror! They also, curiously, spread a sticky solution known to modern biologists as "peanut butter" along the length of each plant, suffocating not only the poor celery stalks but millions of ants who were attracted by the sweet sticky substance. In time, the second graders were driven out by the shrill whistle of their natural predator, Superviso playgroundicus, but the damage had been done. Today, salad plates everywhere bear witness to what might have been, but the hourglass of time is like bolted to the table or something, and I swear i could flip it over if i could just.. move the.. rr.. uhh.. wedge.. a.. screw.. drive.. NO! it broke!! Okay, forget it. We can't go back to those golden days. Salad days. *sniff*
In paper doll society, are paper clips hair accessories or ammunition?
Is it all right if I talk to you about celery for a while? Good. Long ago, in the time before history, known to many historians as Prehistory, celery was unrestricted by human dietary whims and vicious razor-toothed furballs. It grew taller than the trees, stronger than steel, and wider than.. also the trees. It was the material of choice for construction of buildings of every sort, from the towering majesty of the Edible Skyscrapers of the West to the mystic Celeryhenge in the British Isles. Not to mention sluices. It was a glorious time to be a vegetable. But terror soon struck the stringy monoliths of green: hordes of wild second graders were let loose on the countryside. They ran around pouring red food coloring on the roots of the celery stalks, causing leaves some 200 feet above to eventually turn a ghastly blood color. The horror! They also, curiously, spread a sticky solution known to modern biologists as "peanut butter" along the length of each plant, suffocating not only the poor celery stalks but millions of ants who were attracted by the sweet sticky substance. In time, the second graders were driven out by the shrill whistle of their natural predator, Superviso playgroundicus, but the damage had been done. Today, salad plates everywhere bear witness to what might have been, but the hourglass of time is like bolted to the table or something, and I swear i could flip it over if i could just.. move the.. rr.. uhh.. wedge.. a.. screw.. drive.. NO! it broke!! Okay, forget it. We can't go back to those golden days. Salad days. *sniff*
