Tue, Oct 31, 1995
I got so bored the other day at work that when no one else was around, I called from another phone into my voice mail, made evil growling and gurgling noises, then played the message on my speaker phone over and over and over. Then I wrote a little puppet show. It was performed by three stapler removers, and was called "I Am The Snake, Bite Bite Bite." The plot of this play is as follows: Two of the smaller stapler removers claim that they are the snake, proclaiming their snakelihood by saying "bite bite bite." Finally, the biggest stapler remover comes along and rightfully claims his snake throne by saying "bite bite bite" in the deepest voice of them all. I then decide to Irish step dance in the elevators. I may need professional help.
I walked out of my room this morning a little groggy because, even though I had gone to sleep at about five a.m., I still woke up at nine-thirty. Each morning I like to make a bagel with tomato and melted cheese with the toaster oven. I flipped the oven switch on to preheat it, shoved in the little broiling tray, which always has leftover crusted cheese on it, and set about cutting up my bagel.
When I looked up I noticed there was a line of ants marching across the counter top. As I followed the line across the counter their ranks became more and more disorganized until in ended in utter chaos at the toaster.
Curious, I pulled the tray out of the oven. The ants were already dead; their exoskeletons collapsed from sudden dehydration. Others were boiled alive in the once hard cheese they must have planned on harvesting. It was pretty grim.
So, I washed their disfigured and collapsed bodies down the drain and made my bagel. It didn't taste any different.
The Journal of Substance, Wit,and Dangerous Masturbatory Habits