Some people have ant problems in their apartment. Some people have rodent trouble. Other people have other troubles in their apartments that they don't want anyone to know about. I have a bear problem. To be more specific, I have a Mr. Bear problem. Let me paint a picture for you; the other day I came home from a long days work at the milk factory and I open my door and what do I find, but Mr. Bear standing there in my kitchen wearing the most fashionable hat I have ever seen, twirling a cane on his hand and whistling a little diddy. I said, Mr. Bear what are you doing in my kitchen, and where did you get that fabulous hat? Why, Ben, Mr. Bear responded, if only you knew the world that I knew. I said, Mr. Bear, to be perfectly honest, I don't give a damn about your Bear world, just get out of my kitchen. I motioned toward the door and in one shake of lambs day Mr. Bear tipped his hat to me, walked out my door, and down the street.
After that I was pretty confident I had solved my Mr. Bear problem but the other day what did I find when I came home from work again? But Mr. Bear rolling around on the floor of my living room with his head stuck in my honey jar! I said, Mr. Bear, again? Mr. Bear you can take you, your fashionable hat, and my honey jar which is currently afixed to your head, and just go home. I motioned to the door, Mr. Bear got up off the floor, honey streaming down his back and pooling onto my brand new rug and attempted to find the door. After a little assistance from me Mr. Bear found the door, left, and walked down the street with my honey jar still around his head. OOOOhhhhhhh that Mr. Bear!
So, once in a time not a whole lot unlike we find ourselves in today, there was a blog. It was called Robots Weekly. Short lived, but influential in burgeoning blog arena at the time. Sadly, three of the four primary writers of Robot Weekly died in a horrible accident when their toboggan that they were all sharing went off a cliff on the French/Swiss border in the Alps. Their bodies were never recovered, and they we all presumed dead. In memory of their lives I have taken the time to dig up one of my favorite posts from Robots Weekly. I hope you enjoy this piece as much as I do, I think it perfectly captures all the fire, emotion, and energy that these great writers had before their lives were taken away from us too soon. Enjoy.
ALL YOU FUCKING SQUARES BETTER SAY YOUR FUCKING PRAYERS
I've smoked three cigarettes now while trying to think of something to write. I've got an idea. My predictions for if a hippo was to fight an alligator
On land:Advantage Hippo In the water: Advantage Hippo Cage match: Advantage Hippo In a bar: Advantage Hippo In the air: Push
Ok, I was not going to use this as a forum to write about myself, but, rules are made to be broken so here we go. I'm in Chicago this weekend and I'm staying in the lovely little gay mecca that is affectionately known as Boys Town. And this means next to nothing I know, but they are having a street fair this weekend and some how they secured both the Village People (cliche?) and En Vogue to perform. More amazingly there are VIP section for En Vogue. Not one, but two sections. Tickets ranging from $30 to $50, respectively. I do not really have anything to add to this, so take that for what you will. Now back to your random selections of found videos and prose. Thank you.
i walked into the house of miraculous recovery
and stood before king everything
and he asked me to join him in the red wing
took me to pie land said, "i'm a thigh man" i will be eternally hateful
Yea, so, here we go again. Sorry for the delay. That is getting old, I know, but really. I am this time. You should have seen what happen, long story short Jim in HR now has hooks for hands and we are no longer working on the top secret flame thrower project. I can't stress this enough: more should we, less can we. For your enjoyment.
