9:40 pm - 2003-10-05
Charlotte vs. V-Man
So I was halfway up the stairs before I realized that I hadn't yet imparted any jewels of wisdom to the sows that regularly read this nonsense, and I simply couldn't live with myself if you were forced to suffer adverse reactions stemming from Saranation withdrawal. And so, I have returned, in order to inform you that a world in which a three year old and a ten year old weigh roughly the same thing is a strange one indeed.

This weekend, I was a number of dinosaurs, including a raptor and a giraffe. Do not insubordinate yourself to argue with me; girafffes are indeed dinasaurs. They only pretend to be mammals for they can protect themselves from dinosaur skin poachers, who sell their scales to chicken farmers, which feed said scales to their fowl, thus improving the taste and quality of poached eggs. Don't believe me? Compare the delicacy of a poached egg from BC times to the abomination that has descended today. There is truly no contest. Later, I donned my new coat, a lively garment from Burger & Biscuit that just happened to meow like a pussy cat. On further inspection, I discovered that the wrap possessed feet; not just ANY feet, but the feet of Bill, my once much-feared adversary who met a maligned fate of being drowned in a pail of earthworms...not that I would know anything about that. Desperate measures were taken to rescue him by that great and noble hero, Latex Man; unfortunately, his arch enemy, He Who Must Not Be Named (teehee) interfered, spinning a web like any of his namesake would...uhm...do. Inside this web was a message, naturally meant to mock the greatest sybil of arachnids who once spurned him for a mere swine..."Taste the Latex".

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