But Batman Returns is on, and I'm a man of simple pleasures.
Seriously, though.
We need Little Red Riding out of schools.
It teaches evolution.
"What big eyes you have."
"All the better to see you with."
The wolf may as well be saying, "God doesn't exist and never did."
And that's not fair.
God deserves all of the credit He gets.
He invented s'mores.
And Michael Stipe.
In this sunny weather I have taken to leaving the front ('round back) door wide open.
Because I'm hoping that someone is going to kidnap me.
Two or three dudes marl in with ski masks on.
And as they're wrapping me in the burlap sack, I'll say:
"'Bout time. Where are we going?
Oh right, right. I'm not allowed to know."
"I can put myself in the trunk. You guys ransack the place a bit."
"Hey, which one of you is the brains?
Is it you?"
Because why struggle?
They have enough to worry about.
Like figuring out which magazines to cut up for the ransom letter.
I'd be the easiest kidnapping case in history.
"Hey Jeff! You don't have to stay in the car!"
Jeff's the getaway driver.
I middled unexpectedly last night.
For Terry Clement.
He's an acquired taste.
Like delicious food.
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