How do we count when the trees are many? We ride above them in a helicopter, and shoot them. Count your bullets, and divide by thirty, ’cause you’re a lousy shot, and that’s the ticket right there. And take off that hat, you look like a goddamn fool.
My great-uncle taught me that there were no stars, only silver buttons in the carpet up above. I killed my great-uncle, with a spoon.
If you thought there was more to this, you were off the mark, my friend. Real bad. Real gone.
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Posted by hornblower
I’ve been training for the grub championship this week. My regimen is intense, but I’ve got a great new greengrocer I’ve been seeing, and he’s a whiz. He has me on a three-carrots-every-meal plan, to optimize the transference of gluten and sodium to strategic optical nerves and gastroenterological abscesses. People tell me it’s in bad taste to enter grub contests in times such as these, but I say, No, sir. Except I don’t say sir. I don’t even say anything, actually. I just kill.
With my newfound grub abilities, I think I’ll be running for Congress this year. I have found that the most important part of being a good friend is letting people know that you are a grub champion. This is what I aim to accomplish for all of my great friends. I want the world to be a happy land, and let’s be careful where we step, now, because there are worms coming through the cracks in the pavement. Don’t worry, though — there is a crack in everything. That’s how the light gets in.
1 Comment | Nougat | Tagged: competitive eating, greengrocer, grub | Permalink
Posted by hornblower
The pudding I would try to make would be a rather complex little figgy pudding, with small bits of bone, for texture. There would be an intricate garnish of liquid coconut, dyed red. The coconut would spell out, in a highly stylized calligraphy, the Croatian alphabet. Maybe the pudding would come with a toy, for the little ones. This is after the mass-production part of the pudding-making happens. I would try very hard to make this pudding delicious, but I mean come on, it’s my first pudding, so cut me some slack, all right? This is a big step for me. I can’t wait to hear from you.
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Posted by hornblower
Ouch! Caught a train to the Middle country this morning, and my hands are aflame. I tried to walk it off, but I am in the habit of walking on my hands, so that was a poor choice. I rubbed some aloe on my nose and sniffed some begonias, and I felt better. Janezo (two syllables, remember) called me the other day, and I spit-polished my Geo Tracker for our meeting at the courthouse.
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Posted by hornblower
