Thursday, November 03, 2005
Pig-Drawn Sleigh -OR- Just What the Fuck ARE You Talking About?
This morning I shared the ankeny commuter bus with one of those annoying middle-aged guys who has to talk to everyone, even if they're 40 feet away, on the other side of the accordion divider. Fantasy football, blah blah blah. But then he started talking about how yesterday the bus was cruisin along, cruisin cruisin, I'm just a bus cruisin, when a couple cops flipped around in front and rushed on board. And then there was a news chopper overhead. The driver had accidentally bumped the switch changing the electric marquee to CALL 911.

I wish I'd been on that bus. The instant the police came on board I'd have stood up, mouth frothing, and screamed "Release the nuclear pigs!" And then bene shot 14 times in the chest.

This is how I'm going to die, and it's going to be next week: I'm going to hook a decorative Santa sled up to a team of 100 or so hogs, get in the sleigh, and start whipping all hell out of those pigs. Or maybe I'll send electricity coursing through their harnesses. Either way. We'll start on Grand and see where we go.

I hear shit like this all the time at work:

"Hey, is your thing doing this blinking thing?"

"What?"

"Just answer. Yes or no?"

And I want to say: "WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?!"

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