Whatever it might mean, I don’t want anything to fly off the handle when I float the news into your ear canals. The messenger is never to be shot by the recipient, for the fatal assault would label the assailant with cowardice for the rest of his life, you hear me? That means years in … Continue reading That Means Years
The telestrator really had a kick tonight, didn’t you think so? Oh, I meant stratocaster. Don’t you roll your eyes at me! Of all times to ignore me, this is your silliest yet. How can a person eat cereal and grin like that? Of all the places to ignore me, this is the crummiest yet. … Continue reading Talking to the Drum Kit
My name is Slapdash Claptrap Dingalingdong. S. C. Dingalingdong, to you. I was born with this name. My parents had no part in it. I’ve had a combative personality for most of my life. I joined the military, wasted some enemies in combat. Now I’m Colonel S. C. Dingalingdong. Just call me Sir Yes Sir.
Anything past introspection is too much to bear– cave-dwelling associations spring to mind, replete with dank corners and piles of old books. You hear it come from a minute away at about sixty miles an hour, only to turn on a dime and squeal away with pie in its pants. The dispatcher was a bit … Continue reading Let’s Just Call It a River, Nosey
R: This tiramisu is stale. Any chance you have something fresher lying around? J: This tiramisu is only two hours old, sir. We make ours fresh every day. R: Two hours, huh? I guess my palate is sensitive to restaurant bullshit. J: Excuse me, sir? R: You made it two hours ago and threw it … Continue reading Prick