When asked what I want to do for the rest of my life, I want to answer, 'play in an all-girl banjo band'
And when asked if it's okay to steal from an employer, I will nod and say, FUCK YEA!!
I will say my name is Randy Johnson from Duluth, where I have been an independent business man since 1922, making sandwiches for the masses where they each get a bottle of Coca-Cola for a nickel!
"Do you think you'll still be alive in 12 months?"
"Probably not," I respond, "I doubt I'll live through this week!"
The interview was over in twelve point two seconds, but there were more questions, like what was my favorite sexual position if I was caught in an avalanche.
"Do you like to draw?"
"What kind of things do you draw?"
She started to dial security.
I stood up and walked away.
It seem like the best thing to do.
Today's menu involves super glue and a sack full of nuts, peanuts, to be exact.
A light breeze wafts in from the south, where the smell of the rendering plant cannot be smelled, but the farm is in full bloom.
Cow shit for those of you city slickers.
The phone rings.
Doctor is on the other end.
"How long do I have to live doc?"
She hates it when I call her doc.
It makes her moody.
"Two days!" she slams the phone down.
What could I do in two days?
Free a backward nation?
Party with some Hollywood slut wannabes in my Chevy?
The possibilities were endless.
I decided to take a nap.
Here lies the secret to the world, locked inside a bottle, and flushed down the toilet to be found by someone on a deserted island, DO NOT EAT THE YELLOW SNOW, IT'S PROBABLY NOT LEMON!
Also, leave your sister alone, she's crabby, needs a nap, but she won't take one.
I know you're bored, so am I!
Good morning and have a better day...or something!