It is time for yet another interesting text file written by yours 
truly.  No, actually it's by me.  And I don't know who I am.  So, how 
about those streets in Providence, eh?  Isn't that just the absolutely 
most bestest designed urban center in all the world?  Why, I was 
thinking of selling my bed so I could move to Broad Street, which isn't
really broad at all, and it doesn't seem to have many broads either, 
except for the occasional hoochie walking in front of my car or selling
her... candy... to the guys stopped in front of me.  Let us try to find
the library.  YEAY!  "Uhhh, no I don't know where it is.  I work in 
this gas station cuz I kaint git no skool to let me wurk in the 
liberry."  Wheee!  All around!  ALL AROUND!!!  MY MOST FAVORITIST CITY 
EVER!!!!!  
What's say we taKE THE sTATUE oF lIBERTY AND MOVE IT TO pROVIDENCE.
And then turn the caps lock off.  Special delivery by helicopter.  
DROP IT RIGHT SMACK ON THE MIDDLE OF THE CITY!!!!  Yes.  Then we can 
crush some one way streets and make som new ones while we're at it.  
So, let's just go to the zoo.  It's a much more friendly place.  
There's monkies, orangutans, effelants, mongooses, chimpanzees, 
ostritches, baboons, chiwahwahs, little kidz, and a small kitty.
When is the last time you deposited anything into your account?
What exactly does a rubber check look like?  Because according to my 
logic, if a check is too bounce, it must be made of rubber.  Not just 
any old rubber, but the nice multicolored kind that they make the super
high bouncy balls out of.  Except that checks are flat, so unless you 
drop them perfectly straight on the ground, they are going to bounce 
mad whack all over the place.  WATCH OUT!  What the...  
AAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!   MY 
EEEEEEEEEEYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
(*gooawck* *gooawck* *gooawck*) (that's the sound the blood makes when 
it spews out in bug globs with a hand motion flying away from my chest,
even though it's my poor eye socket that's spewing blood.)

I think I'm done.  Whew.

Wow, I am soooo bored.  I guess it's time for a story:

  A long time ago, in a small village just outside of my toe, there 
lived the Happy Sock People.  The Sock People were a peace loving 
society who, through millions of days of evolution, had learned to live
in complete tranquility and co-habitation with the Feet Of The Damned.
  Unlike the Sock People, who were naturally very clean and fresh 
smelling, the Feet Of The Damned were... well, damned.  The must have 
done something really really bad.  So bad, in fact, that the overlords 
("people" as the Feet like to call them) started a never ending cycle 
of torture.
  Their first act of evil was to take the Feet and damn them.  Then the
grabbed the innocent bystanders (the Happy Sock People, who are still 
happy at this point, but shant be for much longer) and shoved the Feet 
(now Of The Damned) into the mouths of the Happy Sock People.
What was not mentioned thus-far was that the Feet had been trudging 
around on the dirty ground for many days, and now were all smelly.  
Some Feet had even gone so far as to grow pet "Fun Gus"es and keep them
with themselves at all times.  This means that they were there even 
when the Feet were shoved into the mouths of the Happy Sock People.  
Talk about gross!
  This terrible act in itself would have been bad enough, but as the 
Happy Sock People were not used to such vile tastes, naturally there 
had to come something even more vile... more disgusting than even that.
  Shoes.
  Medieval torture devices fashioned from the skins of the slaughtered 
MooMoos.  With cleats.  And then they were tied real tight.  
  This made the Feet sweat.  And stink.  And their Fun Guses 
multiplied.  And the Shoes trapped in all of this yummy goodness.
  And it broke the spirits of the Happy Sock People.  Now they are Sad,
 Dirty, Smelly Sock People (or SDSSP for short).
  Fortunately, there are those overlords, oftentimes called "Parents" 
or "Adults" who will occasionally take pity on the Sad, Dirty, Smelly 
Sock People (or SDSSP for short).  They remove the Feet from their 
mouths, and bathe them with such things as Mountain Fresh or Clean 
Rinse Formula.  And this makes them Happy Sock People again.
  Happy, that is, until the Feet return.
  For the lucky few, their opression ends abruptly, when, whilst being 
cleaned, they will go "missing".  This clever trtick keeps their hopes 
up and their spirits high.  For there is a tale that is passed down 
from generation to generation of HSP or SDSSP.  It tells of the day 
when the Great Hippie shall descend from the hills and free the Feet 
from the mouths of the Socks.  
  On this glorious day, the Happy Sock people shall once again be free 
to live, clean and fresh scented, for the rest of eternity.  And they 
can get some on the side, too.