Abstractly speaking — that is, if we limit the scope of our question to the realm of pure geometry — what would it mean to circumcise a circular cube? Additionally, why are you holding three quarts of ether, a tube of toothpaste, and some shears? Could it be that you are the fabled Master of Nature? If so, I would expect you to be in control of the situation, whereas you seem to be hopelessly stuck inside your own black blizzard.
My favorite scene in your new sci-fi adventure movie, however, is when Lady Chatterley teaches that community of rappers the ins and outs of Christian love. And then they smother the Casio keyboard, when the butler appears holding his plate of biscuits.
People keep asking me why I lined this essay with metal plates. The reason is that I wanted to protect myself from all the eligible women that keep crawling out of the telepersonals. I’m tired of being successfully seduced. I wanna go bar hopping with lonely folks who are ugly and sad. But every conversation that I enjoy with these gorgeous babes always transpires as follows: “Oh, so your most defining personality trait is that you’re addicted to hard apple cider? How impressive. I myself possess only one interest, and that is shopping.”
Now, once I get fancy rims installed on my Plymouth Duster and we cruise over to Peyton’s Place, instead of immediately shutting off the engine, I decide to idle in the driveway for a while with our bass tube bangin’, while we finish the corn chips. Then the same butler from above comes out and serves us soft chicken tacos with a side of rice and two club sodas.
Don’t worry: when we leave this locale, as soon as we reach the highway, our soundtrack will play the song “On The Road Again” by Willie Nelson.
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