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Wheel in a Wheel in a Wheel He was going to be eaten by a sabre-toothed (to be precise, with eight sabre teeth and eight molars) hippopotamus, but then he woke up. "Wow! What a horrible dream!" he thought. But then he noticed the eight lions at the side of his bed, which were already starting to gnaw on his arm, but then he woke up. "Wow! What a horrible dream within a dream!" he thought. But then he noticed the eight-foot-tall black bear in his walk-in closet (the walk-in closet on the left-hand side of the bedroom, not the walk-in closet on the right hand side of the bedroom; nor the smaller walk-in closet in the back of the walk-in closet on the right-hand side of the bedroom; nor the walk-in closet in the back of the bathroom, connected to the bedroom by a doorway in the back of the bedroom; nor the walk-in closet his neighbor had just installed in their swimming pool on the left-hand side [as facing the diving board] of the eight-foot end of the pool), but then he saw the can of black spray paint, and then he knew that his pet eight-foot-tall brown bear had painted himself black as an April Fools' Joke, as today was the first of April, but then he woke up. "Wow! What a..." And then an eight-foot-tall black bear started attacking his feet, and there were no cans of black spray paint around (only eight teal cans, stacked in two four-can columns [side-to-side, not front-to-back] in the smaller walk-in closet in the back of the walk-in closet on the right-hand side of the bedroom), and then he died.
However, even though he was a very bad man, he had a very sympathetic obituary in the April 8th edition of the local paper, because it was that very black bear who was given the assignment to write the obituary by the editor of the paper, and God gave black bears an acute sense of guilt.
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(First in this series here.)
oh so lovingly written by
Matthew |
i sincerely do not know what you are doing here. are you lost? were you
looking for your delicate calico cat, and did you follow her up two flights of stairs
to this room? she is not here. she was here, yes. we gave her a warm bowl of milk, we talked with her about campaign finance reform for a time, and then she bid us good day. i believe she was
going to the post office two blocks down, but i don't quite recall.
for surely you did
not find your way from prinsiana, the least traveled site on
the internet. if you did, though, perhaps you are looking for humor. perhaps you are looking for profundity. perhaps you are looking for answers.
i'm sorry, but you shall go naught-for-three.
