Ok, so I can’t really help it if my ass is smarter than the rest of me.
The other day, this lady asked me, “Do you ship?”
I *almost* responded, “not very well…you see I have this tendency to pop all the bubbles in the bubble wrap and I’m usually very tired and grumpy after such a long flight, being cooped up in that bumpy cargo hold and all…”
But, instead, I just smiled and told her, “Yes…yes, my artwork ships very well indeed.”
Then, I was talking to somebody else about making Polaroids, and I said, “be careful-watch out for that white toxic re-agent that forms when you do them.”
He said, “Why? What happens?”
I replied, “Well, you get itchy.”
“Is that all?” he asks.
“Well, what were you expecting,” I nudge him, “Oh wait. I forgot to tell you that your head will spin right around on your neck, like an owl and pea soup will fly right out of your mouth-even if you didn’t swallow any recently. It’ll be like some kind of demented pea soup incident only not with any actual soup. And, then you’ll start to grow all those extra heads-turning into some kind of mutant hydra-like creature of the night. In fact, I’ve got an entire dresser drawer full of extra heads at home in my bedroom. You see, I’m saving them for the inevitable time I lose my original mind-perhaps I can then use one of those radioactive by-product ones as a spare. Don’t you think that’s a grand scheme if you’ve ever heard one? I mean, stockpiling spare brains in my bedroom and all?”
“Um…I’ll watch that re-agent.”
“Yeah,” I said, “you do that.”
Until next time…