Near here is a village and near that is a town and the town has a hardware store open on Sundays. I often go to this hardware store with a mental list of items I intend to purchase like
a) large container for dog’s water
b) 3” paint brush
c) set of solar garden lights to scavenge for parts to make solar powered anti-disruption helmets to ward of the rays. The rays, the rays.
d) Whipper snipper line.
e) half a dozen large hooks for hanging plants and hitchhikers.
f) more shovels.
But when I walk in I become distracted by the bright lights and that thing that shakes the paint so that I instantly forget what I’m there for and wander around and around looking for clues until security starts to wonder what the tall guy is doing lurking down in the plumbing section. And I end up leaving there with an 1/8” drill bit and a lawn mower.
And so it was today and as I made my way home I was stopped at the traffic lights, the ones just before the bridge which takes you out of the town. And as I waited for the light Sunday traffic to clear the intersection a man and what appeared to be his grandson took the opportunity to cross the street in front of me. The old man had wiry white whiskers and walked with a limp, he carried groceries in a semi-transparent plastic bag. Generic brand frozen pizza and a small bottle of whiskey were on offer for that night’s dinner. Behind the man loped the boy, about 12 years old, carrying a large cabbage. He carried it like Hamlet addressing Yorick, in the palm of one hand and out in front of him. Alas poor cabbage, soon ye be boiled.
As they walked, the boy peeled leaves from the cabbage and munched on them. Perhaps he had been promised this cabbage for some good deed performed and was now reaping the benefits of honesty and hard work. Regardless, he was eating that cabbage like it was potato chips.
It was then that I realized why I can’t get high speed internet. Bloody cabbage eaters. The government decides what areas have priority when allocating money for communications technology and on the Big Map Of John’s Empire this area is coloured a pale shade of green due to the great number of cabbage eaters herein. “No, no don’t bother doing anything about them, give them Etch-A-Sketches ® and tell them it’s the latest wireless technology. And give them each a cabbage, a sign of respect in their culture.”
If only I could get them less interested in cabbages and more interested in pornography. Or better yet, cabbage porn! Streaming web cams of naughty cabbages wearing stockings and smoking cigarettes. A cabbage being whipped by a gang of masked carrots led by a cauliflower in a Gestapo uniform. Cabbages in schoolgirl outfits and extra hairy cabbages, cabbage on cabbage and extreme inter-vegetable action all day 24-7.
Yeah.
a) large container for dog’s water
b) 3” paint brush
c) set of solar garden lights to scavenge for parts to make solar powered anti-disruption helmets to ward of the rays. The rays, the rays.
d) Whipper snipper line.
e) half a dozen large hooks for hanging plants and hitchhikers.
f) more shovels.
But when I walk in I become distracted by the bright lights and that thing that shakes the paint so that I instantly forget what I’m there for and wander around and around looking for clues until security starts to wonder what the tall guy is doing lurking down in the plumbing section. And I end up leaving there with an 1/8” drill bit and a lawn mower.
And so it was today and as I made my way home I was stopped at the traffic lights, the ones just before the bridge which takes you out of the town. And as I waited for the light Sunday traffic to clear the intersection a man and what appeared to be his grandson took the opportunity to cross the street in front of me. The old man had wiry white whiskers and walked with a limp, he carried groceries in a semi-transparent plastic bag. Generic brand frozen pizza and a small bottle of whiskey were on offer for that night’s dinner. Behind the man loped the boy, about 12 years old, carrying a large cabbage. He carried it like Hamlet addressing Yorick, in the palm of one hand and out in front of him. Alas poor cabbage, soon ye be boiled.
As they walked, the boy peeled leaves from the cabbage and munched on them. Perhaps he had been promised this cabbage for some good deed performed and was now reaping the benefits of honesty and hard work. Regardless, he was eating that cabbage like it was potato chips.
It was then that I realized why I can’t get high speed internet. Bloody cabbage eaters. The government decides what areas have priority when allocating money for communications technology and on the Big Map Of John’s Empire this area is coloured a pale shade of green due to the great number of cabbage eaters herein. “No, no don’t bother doing anything about them, give them Etch-A-Sketches ® and tell them it’s the latest wireless technology. And give them each a cabbage, a sign of respect in their culture.”
If only I could get them less interested in cabbages and more interested in pornography. Or better yet, cabbage porn! Streaming web cams of naughty cabbages wearing stockings and smoking cigarettes. A cabbage being whipped by a gang of masked carrots led by a cauliflower in a Gestapo uniform. Cabbages in schoolgirl outfits and extra hairy cabbages, cabbage on cabbage and extreme inter-vegetable action all day 24-7.
Yeah.
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