Thursday, November 15, 2007

More Notes & Errata-tat-tat


Hail Ye Soggy Blogateers! Are you ready, kids? Ooooohhh, who lives with a pineapple under the bed?

Golly gosh folks, woke up this morning and the little gizmo whirring inside my head was clanking and banging and just bursting with ideas. But, fortunately it's passed now. The only idea I have even a vague recollection of was a half-formed plan for turning regular tap water and potatoes into a kind of chowder. Just what the world needs.

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My continued evolution as a human being has brought me to a new self-realization. I hate telephones that ring. Every time this freakin' phone rings I start to froth at the mouth and I stand in place and do the bunny hop until it stops. I refuse to answer the obnoxious thing. I don't care that it's the doctor with the test results. Mail me a letter.

To some of you this may seem an unhealthy behavior. I respectfully disagree. I think it's quite appropriate. Of course, I thought wearing speed-o's and tall leather boots to church last week was appropriate as well, so maybe I shouldn't be the arbiter of these things. I am, however, going to find every handset in the flippin' house and bury 'em in the back yard. Deep. Talk to the worms, I say.

Now my cellphone is different. I'm cool with my cellphone. Especially when I have it in my pocket and it starts to vibrate. If any of you want to make my day, find out if my cell phone is in my pocket and do me a favor; just call me, hang up, call me, hang up, call me, hang up. I would be forever grateful. Aside from being a wonderful "pocket pal" when my cell phone does ring, it doesn't ring...it plays the intro to the Rolling Stones' "Gimme Shelter." That's just cool.

Besides, when my cellphone rings it's for me. When the "other" phone rings it's never for me. Unless its a bill collector, then its for me. What bothers me is that even though the persons in the household know the likelihood of the phone call being for them is far greater than it being for me, they make me answer it. I say hello, grunt, and yell "NICK! SAM! ONE OF YOU! PHOOOONE!!!" They take the handset and say, "Jeez Dad, what are you so mad about?" So, I explain again that there are handsets in every room, when you hear it ring, put down your X-Box controller and answer the flippin' phone.

But soon it will all be over. If you see a dark figure lurking in the moonlight it will be me, burying telephones. But, if its not me, consider calling 9-1-1, if you can find the phone.

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Well, check back soon for more rants and stuff. Maybe some cartoons.

Love & Smoochies,
Your Humble 'Toonist

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