Reflections on Ving Rhames

So, earlier tonight I was on my way to work along with a friend of mine who pointed out the glaringly obvious, that I have done nothing of any value to the human race. Also, I haven’t updated my blog in quite a while. He continued to talk, but I ignored him as best as I could, as I was suddenly struck with sheer amazement at how unlike Al Bundy he was.

For instance, Al is on my blog. My friend is not. Uncanny!

 

However some of what he said managed to seep into my brain like the wetwipe you use to remove the lipstick from your collar, thinking that it will be a foolproof way of hiding your infidelity, when in actual fact you’re only delaying the inevitable uprising of wetwipes, at which point all our secrets will be revealed. All of them!

 

One of the things that he mentioned was maybe I should try writing a post that displayed my absolute lack of anything productive to write, in the history of ever. After hearing this, my brain immediately worked to forget it, only so it could remember it at a later date, and I could claim full credit for the idea. Unfortunately, I’ve just admitted two things.

 

1) The idea is not actually mine, but that of a man who has absolutely nothing in common with Al Bundy.

 

Again, Al Bundy. Not my friend. The resemblance is non-existent!

 

and

2) Wetwipes are sentient beings. All glory to the wetwipes.

 

Now, it may strike you that a useless post stating that the post is in itself useless and lacking any creative value whatsoever would be a waste of time. Not true. Going around attempting to survey how many people vomit a little bit in their mouth, then swallow it because you have nowhere to spit it, compared to how many people swallow because they enjoy it… that would be a waste of time. Just for the record, I maintain that if I ever swallow my vomit, it is only in an attempt to keep a hold of every bit of my DNA, so that no-one can clone me in an attempt to stop me. After all, I know all of my weaknesses, and damned if I’m gonna turn on me right when I’m about to successfully rule the world… I’ve got my own future to think of, after all.

 

Or maybe my own past. It’s a little unclear, like a foggy 5 am morning, in the middle of June, when the mist sets in to the Saharan desert, rendering that dehumidifier you brought on a foggy-desert trek rather redundant. How can you dehumidify all of that? How? I demand answers. Please forward them all to the usual address, along with any well-wishes and candy treats. Any non-candy treats can go straight to hell! Stealing candy treats limelight… well I for one will not allow it! Who will stand with me against the non-candy treats? Let the cry of freedom go forth. FREEDOM!!!!

 

On a related topic, whatever did happen to the notion of public beatings? They were a staple of society. They allowed people to staple society. They allowed people societied staples. People of society allowed staples. And stapled peoples allowed society. So stick that in your pipe and find that you’ve got the wrong size pipe, and that’s why your impromptu oil pipe-line was never working, so you’ve got to take it back to the store, only to find they don’t have the right size pipe in stock, so you need to go to another store, only they won’t refund your useless pipe, they’ll only give you a store credit towards something else, but asides from pipe you really don’t need anything from them, but there’s no way around it, so you get a bird feeder you never really wanted only so you don’t waste the credit, and then you give up your dreams of an oil business and instead start to press wild birds. In a scrapbook. A feathery, feathery scrapbook.

Here is a picture that has absolutely nothing to do with any of the above. It is a wildebeest.

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Wildebeeeeeeeeeeeest.

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