I burst onto the street, looked around and bolted for the nearest alley I could find. I entered and ran to the end where a wall stood. It took all of my strength and agility but I managed to climb it and jump down into a ravine that bordered a subway station. When the next train arrived at the station I jumped on the back and rode it until my station stop. From there I ran to my apartment.
Once home I drew all the curtains and only kept a candle for light. I sat in the dim light and thought about the fact that I had just stolen the Mona Lisa that was on loan to the city’s art museum. At some point I fell asleep.
In the morning I had forgotten all about my crime the day before. When I turned on the 24 hour news station to get the weather they were playing a news bulletin about some guy high on drugs who stole some art work out of a grade 5 classroom.
I don’t want to sound paranoid but I think the same guy broke into my apartment and left the drawings all over my floor. That guy sure is an asshole.
The two girls that live above me are having a Halloween party! Although they’ve forgotten to invite me and seem to forget that they’re even having a party every time I ask about it in the stairwell, I know that they’re having one. I overheard them telling my stupid neighbour Gary about it. If they’re inviting that idiot than surely I’m invited.
This year I’m going as a 1940’s baseball announcer. I’m going to get super drunk and give a play-by-play on everything everyone does all evening in my old timey baseball announcer voice. “And up to the plate is Gary wearing his stupid Grim Reaper costume he wore last year. How original. Is that why your wife left you, Gary? Because you’re an unoriginal idiot?” I’m also going to sing my anus rap for everyone because it’s super funny.
I think a good cereal for kids would be one with all the marshmallows buried at the bottom of the box, beneath the cereal. When the kid eats all the cereal and uncovers the good stuff, he’s disappointed to see a scorpion laying eggs. I guess it’s not really a good cereal but it would certainly teach them a lot about life.
I’m sorry folks, but I’m having a hard time caring about these freed Chilean miners. You know why? Maybe it has something to do with the time I got stuck in a freezer in the frozen foods section of my grocery store when I was planning on flashing people when they opened the door. “Looking for frozen nuts?” I would have asked them. But the lock on the door somehow clicked and instead of sending a rescue crew all anyone did was point and laugh at me.
Joke’s on them, though. There’s about 5 packs of Green Giant peas that have had my genitals on them.
Many of my American and European friends have been asking, “Why don’t you shower very often, Alan?” To which I reply, usually, by farting on them. But they also ask me why Canadians celebrate Thanksgiving. I’ll answer that here for all you idiots that haven’t asked.
Canada has a Thanksgiving in celebration of the harvest. We celebrate this bountiful harvest, naturally, by attempting to eat as much of it as possible, forgetting that we’ll need to save the majority of it to sustain us through our long, harsh winters. We also celebrate Thanksgiving to give thanks to our gay socialist dictatorship. I’m sure you Americans have heard all about our form of government from your GOP politicians.
So there you have it, some insight into the wacky workings of Canada. Tune in next time when I explain Prime Minister Stephen Harper, his sweaters, and their role in every day Canadian life.
- He really dives in for those handshakes - Chocolate pants - Invisible hand of free market puts on gardening glove - Scientific American = No crossword - Bill Clinton car ride - Sell crackers on eBay - Buffer page (which was scratched out and had Buffet Page written under it) - Meowthwash disaster