Bad Hair Life
I was driving on the freeway in the fast lane with a rabid wolverine in my underwear when suddenly a guy behind me in the back seat popped right up and cupped his hands across my eyes. I guessed, “Is it Uncle Frank or Cousin Louie? Is it Bob or Joe or Walter? Could it be Bill or Jim or Ed or Bernie or Steve?” I probably would have kept on guessing But about that time we crashed into the truck. And as I'm laying bleeding there on the asphalt, finally, I recognize the face of my Hibachi dealer who takes off his prosthetic lips and tells me: “Everything you know is wrong. Black is white, up is down, and short is long. And everything you thought was just so important doesn't matter.”
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6 Comments
Anonymous
March 14th, 2002
at 4:17pm
I'm watching a show on the Travel Channel about the customs of the Aussies. According to the program (and I believe everything I see on TV), showing someone the bottom of your shoe is the same as giving them the finger.
So my question, Mr. Wolverine in his shorts, would Californians just drive down Sidney expressways with their foot out the window?
Anonymous
March 14th, 2002
at 5:40pm
I know all the words to that song. Chris, could you maybe stop by my new blog and post a comment somewhere? That would be soooo cool!
Anonymous
March 14th, 2002
at 8:03pm
I met him in a swamp down in Dagoba
Where it bubbles all the time like a giant carbonated soda
S-O-D-A, soda
I saw the little runt sitting there on a log
I asked him his name, and in a raspy voice he said, “Yoda”
Y-O-D-A, Yoda, Yo Yo Yo Yo Yoda
Anonymous
March 14th, 2002
at 11:13pm
Hey Chris,
I'm pretty positive we were in a poetry class together at UNI (taught by Annie Finch). Anyway, I ran across you through some chain of blogs starting from my own. Small world.
Anonymous
March 15th, 2002
at 10:50pm
Weird AL RULES!!
Anonymous
March 16th, 2002
at 4:02pm
… and he picked up the flamethrower, and he barbecued Blitzen, he took a big bite an said tastes just like chicken…