Oh that really bugs me!
Some sayings are so stupid, and meaningless! For instance: ‘A stitch in time saves nine…’ Nine what? chestnuts? And you treat time like a garment of some mathematical kind! And why do we need ten fingers? Won’t one or two get you into enough trouble as it is? Ga ahead, (New York for ‘Go ahead) hold your fingers up and wiggle all your fingers in front of you… Don’t you get confused? OK, I’m a little stoned. Grrrrr!
Besides, I like saving time. And when I tried to tell Leslie, she completely rejected the idea! I told her how I never button or unbutton my shirts, but just treat them like pull-overs, and I save time that way. She said it was a law to here to do up and undo her buttons, and that I should be ashamed of myself for rejecting a time-honored tradition, insisting the law is the law, and she can’t break it now… Completely illogical, yet it seems normal to her. So God DOES punish me!
Was it destiny, or just plain after-shock?
I suppose Leslie does have some kind of fruitless point, yet my concerns for her, are that if she can’t accept practical, yet simply innovative instructions, then I must conclude she is an illogical creature, while I continue to bang my head against a wall… I now have access to my neighbour’s fridge! LOL! Those who cannot change will die! OK, I admit I can’t stop eating Carmel pecan yogurt ice-cream. But that’s different! That’s a creamy and tasty way to go!
Multi-tasking is a good way to save a stitch in nature’s pink tu tu… Whatever… I can do the dishes, watch TV, and cut my finger off with a butcher knife! OK, I’m slightly delusional… Just yesterday I tried to open a tin of condensed pony milk, with a dull can-opener. It didn’t quite do the job, so while I was trying to pull the lid off, it suddenly gave way, I cut my finger, and accidentally elbowed my fridge! After that, as you can well imagine, I kicked the living cheeses out of my fridge while blood squirted everywhere: it looked just like a horrendous crime scene. Now I had a sore foot to go along with my sore elbow and the minor problem that I was bleeding profusely. My pinky really needed a couple of stitches, but I thought about all that bother faking death at the Hospital, just so they’ll take me first! If not, perhaps 50 cents will persuade them!
So I poured some hydrogen peroxide over it, and wrapped in up in a roll of toilet paper, applying pressure until the bleeding stopped. Then I wrapped like 10 band-aids over it. Today, I’m all white, my heart has stopped beating, and I have this strange craving for blood, and to quickly find a coffin my size, that comes in burgundy, and must smell like men’s cologne! I’m sure I’ve saved over 500 years, and I’m not even 63 ’til next month… Hint: I wanna Choo Choo train, a microscope and an all expenses paid trip The Caribbean. I also want my Mummy! I plan to model her in my livingroom. Then I think shock treatments would save me some time. Don’t you? Sometimes I think I’m starving, and I can hardly close the refrigerator door… OK, I’ll tell you about my home planet :O(