Sunday, October 30, 2011


It's bad if you misspell donuts as "dognuts". I learned this today, ordering things on the internet. I have a dozen dognuts coming to me from I don't know if that's pairs of nuts or just 12 individuals. If it's not pairs, I want my money back. If it's individuals, I will grudgingly keep them. I don't look forward to eating them for breakfast.

Monday, October 24, 2011


Farming is hard. And I picked a bad time to start - right now. I mean, sheesh, you'd think I'd get some result after watering seeds for a week. It's been a whole week! But no such luck. Still waiting on my boston baked beans to sprout.

I admit I'm a novice, but I should get at least get an A for effort. Am I not owed that? I am! Give me whatever I think I deserve! Also that A should come in the form of a candy tree. That would be justice. Goddammit Earth, you owe me at least that.

And to be fair, a whole lot of other things too. You owe me a kitchen with a real stove in it, not this gas-blowing, make-you-pass-out-from-gas-inhalation machine I have now. Also my landlord owes me that. That's the law.

You owe me a really great song about me. I've been at this for a week! I want the lyrics to be, "Ron Ron Ron, you're so great. Everybody else can suck an egg. Dadada, leg." Or something. I don't know. I'm no Nelly Furtardo. Just make it inspire people to commit world peace or something. It's important I'm remembered as inspiring and a hero. "Ron Ron Ron, what have you done. Being so peaceful and dadada gun." Maybe find something that rhymes better than gun. Like I said - your job. My job is to farm nutritious and sweet beans.

And last but not finally, you owe me a mountain of spaghetti, because I would say a lifetime of spaghetti, but I don't want it to be all spaced out in little small parts over a lifetime. I want it all now, dammit.

But back to farming. Let me get on point: you all owe me. At least a vacation to Maui or something. Or at least a waterpark in Wisconsin with a Maui theme - you know, Mauiconsin, or Mauiconsinland - the more affordable but still adequate Mauiconsin. I've put in my time. You owe me at least a Wiscation.

Did you know salted peanuts do not grow more salted peanuts when planted? Turns out they just salt the earth, which apparently is not a good thing. I thought, "Mmm, salted earth! Sounds tasty like Ruffles!" Boy was I wrong. Tastes more like Pringles.

Anyway, my point with farming is this: horse poop may be a good fertilizer and often free, so don't overpay for it. And you don't need to "see how it feels" to know if it's good. Don't be stupid, just taste it. That's "seeing how it feels" with your tongue. More productive.

And let me warn you: it tastes god-awful. Just terrible. It's the taste equivalent of having your wang slammed in a minivan door.

So that's farming.

Saturday, October 1, 2011


Got into a bit of trouble today. Turns out when they say, "It has to be a seeing eye dog, not a seeing eye horse," they mean it. And I'm supposed to be blind. So I had a hard time getting into my job interview at the Heritage Foundation.

By the way, did you know that think tanks don't have to be shaped like tanks? It's just a regular building. I thought one of two things: either an aquarium, like a fish tank, or a giant military tank with a big cannon. I thought a military tank would make a lot of sense, because what good are ideas if you can't back them up? That Heritage Foundation is all talk.

So their security guard escorted me and my trusty horse out. Although, I think "escorted" is the wrong word. "Kicked" is too. There was no kicking. There was a lot of billy-clubbing and defensive grapples against my many blows. I landed a few good ones though.