|SUPERHEROES posted 04-07-2006|
|SPORTS: FISHING posted 03-30-2006|
Archive Page 042
Today I was bored, so I flipped open my trusty copy of Webster’s Dictionary (what you talkin’ bout Willis?) and opened it to the page I was looking for, and there was the word “fire”. Right next to that was the word “fuego”. It turns out I had grabbed my Spanish-English dictionary by mistake. I grabbed the correct one, and looked up the word “fire”. It is a noun that means the flame, heat and light of combustion. It can also be used as a verb, meaning to dismiss from a position. Some people try to get you to learn big words. Words that are hard to say, and even harder to surreptitiously slip into conversation with an attractive girl. “So attractive girl, you sure are vainglorious and you smell nicer than a ruminant ungulate”. It just doesn’t work. I also looked up the word “hunky-dory” just so I could see if there was a picture of the sort of out of date loser who would say “hunky-dory”. There wasn’t.
You may wonder why I looked up the word “fire”, when I certainly knew what it meant (it’s that red stuff that happens when you burn things). I already told you, I was bored. And someone at work had recently come over to me and told me that they wished that a certain other someone would be fired. I said, “That’s easy”. Just leave a couple of spilled, half-empty bottles of Jack Daniels laying about his/her area, and that will probably raise some suspicions. If no one seems to notice fast enough, walk by and casually say, “Oh, [person’s name] I can’t believe you’re drinking at work again. What?!? No you can’t touch me there! Get away creep!” If that doesn’t work for you, all you have to do is plant half a kilo of cocaine under his/her desk. It may not be cheap, or fun, but it’s effective. Even if HR doesn’t take action at that point, I’m pretty sure the DEA will want to get involved.
Ah, Friday. Was there ever a better day than Friday? Yes. Friday on a three-day weekend, but I’ll take what I can get. Speaking of making do with what you have, you are going to have to take this week’s cartoon at face value, whether it’s funny or not. It makes me chuckle because I still remember being at Denny’s one night long ago, sleep deprived, 3:00 AM, and thinking this was the funniest thing ever. Plus I got to eat the waffle. You see, that’s why my cartoons are so good. Because they’re gritty, and real. You identify with them. You say…yes, I’ll bet even waffle man has archenemies. It’s also tragic, because you know how the story ends! We all know that waffle man cannot win. We KNOW it. Yet that one part of us…that small part says, NO! No, you will not win, cruel fate. Not this time, not now, no dear God no, I WILL NOT GIVE UP HOPE!!!
And yet it happens as naturally as the suns passing through the sky. The waffle man gets eaten, and his foes are washed clean of his corpulent waffle flesh. The tall glass of milk nearby sheds a bitter tear* as she now knows that her time is drawing near. With the passing of the waffle man comes the end of milk, or so it is written in scripture.
Holy crap. I just launched into a very passionate tirade about anthropomorphizing breakfast foods. Don’t even get me started on eggs. I wonder how many people would eat them if all they could think about were chicken vaginas. Gross.* No, it’s not condensation; it’s the bitter tears of a star-crossed lover. Helllllooooo.
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