Thursday, March 04, 2004
Tell the moon-dog, tell the march-hare. We have heaven.
So that's two solid yes votes, two solid no votes, an unqualified no vote (i already have a Scrabble board) and matt's vote, which surprisingly isn't any help at all. I hate to frighten a man who can write such brilliance as the story of Yoga Mayfair, not to mention defy the woman who gave me birth, but on the other hand, my beloved fellow bloggers have a strong voice too. So for now the decision is postponed, lest I choose the wrong side of a vote so close its equal hasn't been seen in four years. Ha. I'm making too big a deal out of it anyway. I'll decide myself... later.
Right, on to the freakup. What should i do? Let's see. I could... make fun of some stuff. That would be cool. Like "Hey stack of cds that i sometimes but not regularly listen to. Yeah that's right, i'm talking to you. Think you're so cool, sitting there with your compact size, comparatively high sound quality and near-universally compatible format? I could take you down with a box of Q-tips dipped in maple sap." And then i'd do it.
Or i could tell a hilarious joke which started out with two priests, a rabbi and a nun walking into a sandcastle, only the nun wouldn't even have to be in the joke, because it would be that hilarious. She could go hang gliding far above the scene, and watch as the entire beach broke out in religious-themed antics, culminating with some reference to a sand-witch, because NOBODY can stop themselves from laughing at the thought of a green-skinned woman on a broomstick flying out of the side of a dune, spraying sand and magical spells all over the unsuspecting sunbathers. And then when she accidentally flew into the nun, just imagine what sort of moral outrage would ensue. The nun would be all "Oh!" and the witch would be all "aah ha ha ha!" and the nun would be all "Oh!" and the witch would be all "aah ha ha ha!" and the nun would be all "Don't you realize I'm a nun?!?" and the witch would be all "aah ha ha ha!" because i can't think of anything else that a witch would say. Then the witch's pointy hat would puncture the sail on the hang glider and the nun would start falling toward the ocean, only to be saved at the last second by a friendly Catholic sea monster who would then be accidentally granted crusader's indulgence by Pope Urban II for eating what he thought was a boatload of Ottoman Turks but was actually a boatload of Turkish davenports. So the nun would survive, and the priests and rabbi would be buried up to their necks in the sand by some rambunctious toddlers, and the witch would go back home to her sand dune and read the sand paper in her sandals while Colonel Sanders did a handstand.
Or i could make up a dumb story about chapstick. Yeah, i think i'll do that.
So that's two solid yes votes, two solid no votes, an unqualified no vote (i already have a Scrabble board) and matt's vote, which surprisingly isn't any help at all. I hate to frighten a man who can write such brilliance as the story of Yoga Mayfair, not to mention defy the woman who gave me birth, but on the other hand, my beloved fellow bloggers have a strong voice too. So for now the decision is postponed, lest I choose the wrong side of a vote so close its equal hasn't been seen in four years. Ha. I'm making too big a deal out of it anyway. I'll decide myself... later.
Right, on to the freakup. What should i do? Let's see. I could... make fun of some stuff. That would be cool. Like "Hey stack of cds that i sometimes but not regularly listen to. Yeah that's right, i'm talking to you. Think you're so cool, sitting there with your compact size, comparatively high sound quality and near-universally compatible format? I could take you down with a box of Q-tips dipped in maple sap." And then i'd do it.
Or i could tell a hilarious joke which started out with two priests, a rabbi and a nun walking into a sandcastle, only the nun wouldn't even have to be in the joke, because it would be that hilarious. She could go hang gliding far above the scene, and watch as the entire beach broke out in religious-themed antics, culminating with some reference to a sand-witch, because NOBODY can stop themselves from laughing at the thought of a green-skinned woman on a broomstick flying out of the side of a dune, spraying sand and magical spells all over the unsuspecting sunbathers. And then when she accidentally flew into the nun, just imagine what sort of moral outrage would ensue. The nun would be all "Oh!" and the witch would be all "aah ha ha ha!" and the nun would be all "Oh!" and the witch would be all "aah ha ha ha!" and the nun would be all "Don't you realize I'm a nun?!?" and the witch would be all "aah ha ha ha!" because i can't think of anything else that a witch would say. Then the witch's pointy hat would puncture the sail on the hang glider and the nun would start falling toward the ocean, only to be saved at the last second by a friendly Catholic sea monster who would then be accidentally granted crusader's indulgence by Pope Urban II for eating what he thought was a boatload of Ottoman Turks but was actually a boatload of Turkish davenports. So the nun would survive, and the priests and rabbi would be buried up to their necks in the sand by some rambunctious toddlers, and the witch would go back home to her sand dune and read the sand paper in her sandals while Colonel Sanders did a handstand.
Or i could make up a dumb story about chapstick. Yeah, i think i'll do that.
