The scene is my work desk. I’m eating cashew, almond, and cranberry trail mix. One of the cranberries jumped from the cup. I saw it happen but didn’t hear the landing. After a mildly-extensive berry-hunt the fruit-trail gone-went cold. I cannot find the little asshole. I fear I may be walking around with a cranberry stuck on my ass for the rest of the day.
I’m gonna power down my computer. Pack up my snacks, shave my head, braid my beard. Leave these snow covered lands and move to Island of Misfit Toys. Live out my days with the rest of the freaks.
I kinda like that better. Nobody can get hung up on what I’m saying then, like that’s the issue and not the real issue: ActBlue subscribed me to some driveling bullshit newsletter.
Abandon the car. Wander on foot through the howling wind and snow. Curse the skies and lose all hope as any recognizable landmarks dissolve into a whirling white maelstrom. Fade to black.
The only thing I can think is that there was structural damage that kept it from being repaired to it’s formal postal glory. Kinda like when the iceberg lettuce ripped a gash down the length of the Titanic.
That’s how it reads according to Wikipedia. However, keep in mind that I once changed Colonel Sanders Wikipedia page to say that his mustache was actually an albino caterpillar named Rufus.
Don’t leave!. We canneberge to live without you.
Les bienfaits de la canneberge:
https://www.passeportsante.net/fr/Nutrition/EncyclopedieAliments/Fiche.aspx?doc=canneberge_nu
Saucy.
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I’m with you!
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