There Isn't Anything About Nothing that I Don't Understand
I just had an idea about something that drives me up the shitting wall, but then I got distracted by Paula Abdul on TV. Then I got distracted by a movie trailer that involved the biting of necks plus demonic palm reading. Then on with the Arby's oven mitt. I would tell you that I hate that oven mitt, but hating the oven mitt is no longer fashionable. It's trite. I know what you're thinking: "If hating the oven mitt is trite, I don't want to be trought." Well, stop thinking so much. What that oven mitt needs is a van dyke beard and an RV with a full tank of gasoline.
If you didn't get the bit about the van dyke beard and the RV with a full tank of gas, that's because it's an inside joke. Between me and some ... guy. What?
If you didn't get the bit about the van dyke beard and the RV with a full tank of gas, that's because it's an inside joke. Between me and some ... guy. What?
4 Comments:
An inside joke about an RV? I don't think that's legal in Minnesota, Washington or Virginia. All RV jokes have to be outside jokes in those states. Grab that joke with the oven mitt and take it outside before the cops show up.
California child-killer David Westerfield's last meal as a free man was at Arby's. Key evidence against Westerfield, with his van dyke beard, came from a receipt at a station where he gassed up his RV before taking Danielle van Dam out to the desert to commit his unspeakable crimes.
In this post, then, you are offering wicked social commentary on what the modern media finds important and how it distracts us from serious issues.
Dazzling, Esther. Your brilliance remains unmatchable.
What did Heidegger mean when he said "the nothing itself nots?" I've never understood that, so I thought I should consult an expert on nothing.
Oh, no you don’t. No way. Nothing nots – not falling for that one again, no how. Although…
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