Thursday, May 24, 2007
Abandon Hope, All Ye Who Enter Here!
So Jordin Sparks won American Idol. Now that she's a pop star, I wouldn't go to her concert on a bet. For free. If you threw in beer. Wait....let me think that last one through a little before committing to it.
OK, I'd go for free, on a bet, if you provided the beer. At least a 30-pack, and I get to pick the brand.
I was working away in my home salt mine this morning, when I caught a movement out the corner of my eye. There was a critter walking on a file folder on my desk. I couldn't tell whether the intruder was a spider or an ant. It was too small and my eyes are too bad, so I whipped out this big-ass magnifying glass I keep in a desk drawer and looked more closely. Damned if it wasn't a piss ant. I'd have preferred a spider, since they tend to be loners. That happens when you kill and eat your neighbors.
Where you find one piss ant, you find a billion. I reconned the area, but found nothing. This one must be lost, or is perhaps an advance scout looking for my breakfast leftovers. A sort of Piss Ant Special Forces guy.
So, I picked up the file folder with the ant on it and carried it outside to a point directly on the other side of the wall from where I captured him, then released him. Why? I haven't got a clue. Usually I just smush them with the heel of my hand, flick the corpse onto the floor, and forge ahead, wiping the ant goop off onto the seat of my jeans.
But not this time. Is there a subconscious PETA-like streak in me I don't know about? Will I one day find myself prone on the floor, simply telling the ants they aren't welcome, and politely asking them to leave? Will I start wearing fake leather shoes and rejecting cheeseburgers as being cruel and inhumane?
That's when I realized there was still something in my left hand: The magnifying glass. I knew then that there was still hope for me. It's a bright sunshiny morning. What's a kid at heart to do? So, with a stern voice, I said to whatever piss ants might be within earshot, or antenna shot or whatever they hear with:
Behold the fate of all who dare trespass in the lair of The Crime Dog!
Then, I focused the sun's rays onto the unsuspecting ant, who was thrilled to have been released unharmed, and immediately pulled back after just a second. He immediately started to list and limp around in circles.
See? This is you, if you show your asses in my house!
With that, I more intensely focused the glaring white dot on him, and he disappeared in a puff of smoke. Since then, I haven't seen another fucking ant anywhere near my office.
And I'm hungry for a cheeseburger, too.
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OK, I'd go for free, on a bet, if you provided the beer. At least a 30-pack, and I get to pick the brand.
I was working away in my home salt mine this morning, when I caught a movement out the corner of my eye. There was a critter walking on a file folder on my desk. I couldn't tell whether the intruder was a spider or an ant. It was too small and my eyes are too bad, so I whipped out this big-ass magnifying glass I keep in a desk drawer and looked more closely. Damned if it wasn't a piss ant. I'd have preferred a spider, since they tend to be loners. That happens when you kill and eat your neighbors.
Where you find one piss ant, you find a billion. I reconned the area, but found nothing. This one must be lost, or is perhaps an advance scout looking for my breakfast leftovers. A sort of Piss Ant Special Forces guy.
So, I picked up the file folder with the ant on it and carried it outside to a point directly on the other side of the wall from where I captured him, then released him. Why? I haven't got a clue. Usually I just smush them with the heel of my hand, flick the corpse onto the floor, and forge ahead, wiping the ant goop off onto the seat of my jeans.
But not this time. Is there a subconscious PETA-like streak in me I don't know about? Will I one day find myself prone on the floor, simply telling the ants they aren't welcome, and politely asking them to leave? Will I start wearing fake leather shoes and rejecting cheeseburgers as being cruel and inhumane?
That's when I realized there was still something in my left hand: The magnifying glass. I knew then that there was still hope for me. It's a bright sunshiny morning. What's a kid at heart to do? So, with a stern voice, I said to whatever piss ants might be within earshot, or antenna shot or whatever they hear with:
Behold the fate of all who dare trespass in the lair of The Crime Dog!
Then, I focused the sun's rays onto the unsuspecting ant, who was thrilled to have been released unharmed, and immediately pulled back after just a second. He immediately started to list and limp around in circles.
See? This is you, if you show your asses in my house!
With that, I more intensely focused the glaring white dot on him, and he disappeared in a puff of smoke. Since then, I haven't seen another fucking ant anywhere near my office.
And I'm hungry for a cheeseburger, too.
