No takers on the Game Night candy. None. None but me, and lemme tell you sumthin, cats and kittens, my head has been swimming, Mark Spitz-style, since Game Night! I haven't slept a wink and I can do square and cubed roots in my head now without using either my fingers or my toes, I can charge cell phones with just a wink of the eye, and I've been making the most amazing hospital corners on the Dr. and Mrs. Dr. Kirby connubial berth. X-Ray vision? Hah! I've got ZZZ-Ray vision, which means I can see through lead, phone books and all the deceitful artifices of even the most sociopathic of miscreants. I don't know what our good friends in the PRC (or Canada--I get a little confused sometimes in my geography) put in those cute little game piece-shaped confections, but they've changed my life--and my life was pretty weird to begin with! On the downside, I seem to be spending a lot of time mulling over group-win strategies for "Yin Yang"--which I find more than a little disturbing--and I've been having some difficulty finding the focus to finish simple.....
"Your optimist says the glass is half full
Your pessimist says it's half empty
Your realist wants to know what's in the glass
Your cynic is certain it's pee."
Oh, and I've evidently developed a need to write bad, lightly scatalogical poetry. I wonder if this sort of thing ever happened to Underdog or Captain Nice.
Number Six is Un-Mutual.
1 comment:
huhah huhah, pee
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