I have a question for you.
What would happen if you took a bucket of golf balls, wrapped
them in saran wrap, put them in a dehydrator for an hour, then
dropped them out of your apartment window onto the person you
hate who just coincidently happened to be sitting there on a park bench?
Though, I could just try it and find out.
I went to subway, five years ago. I still remember it. I went in,
and just for kicks I ordered a six-footer. The guy said,
�I�m sorry, we don�t make our sandwiches that long.� I figured
that so I just calmly answered, �WHAT!?! THIS IS INSANE!!! DON�T MAKE
OUR SANDWICHES THAT LONG MY BUTT!! I CAME IN HERE TO GET A
SIX FOOT SUB, AND I INTEND TO LEAVE HERE WITH A SIX FOOT SUB!!!!!�
While I was driving home with my six-footer, I saw a possum.
It was just standing there in the middle of my lane.
My dad always said, �If you hit a possum, it�s seven years good luck.�
Or was it bad luck? Oh well, too late. I guess it was bad luck, because then I hit
another possum, a few cats, a dog, twelve rats, two cactus�s, a cow, some guy named Larry,
a couple hundred other cars, and some nails. Then I drove through a couple landfills,
and then the local zoo. Then I figured Mother Nature was pretty mad at me,
cuz� then I hit a tree.
-Omar Fannywampus