Planet P Project—“Pink World”
MoTW—“Vampires Anonymous”
I’m kind of bummed out because all the support I showed for Michael
Jackson last week was for naught. For some reason I’m not considered one
of his true supporters or fans since I never received an invitation to
his party.
Is that the way he wants to thank his fans? Is there a reason only a few
select fans/supporters were chosen? Is it an age thing? Maybe he only
invited those without pubes? If he asked, I would have been more than
happy to shave off all my pubic hair. Heck, I would have shaved off all
my hair just for the opportunity to play with the monkey. If there was a
chance for Michael and I to be alone, like in the laundry room, I would
have gladly shown him how to properly spank the monkey.
But that’s not going to happen at this time since I was left out. I
wonder if others feel like me. We gave and gave while he was getting
picked on and we didn’t really want anything in return except maybe some
consideration and love. Monkey love. if need be, but love nonetheless.
Good thing it rained here a couple days ago since it took my mind off
the snub. Now, that might seem a bit strange to some of you, but imagine
driving around in the rain with the radio cranked up as you try to take
your mind off your depression and then in your headlights you see some
tiny thing hopping across the road.
And then another.
And another.
I did what any other depressed human would do and stopped the car. More
of these little things hopped by the front of the car so I got out to do
a little investigating.
These little hopping things weren’t tiny aliens but tiny frogs. For some
reason they felt the urge to cross the road in order to get to the other
side since something was driving them to do so.
My mind in overdrive now, I figured that if there were little frogs in
front of the car, there must be little frogs behind the car. So I went
investigating and, sure enough, there were tiny frogs there too.
But these tiny frogs weren’t hopping.
Nope, these tiny frogs weren’t really able to hop since they were
completely smushed. Again my investigatory mind took over and I picked
up one of the tiny, smushed frogs and started licking it.
I can now say unequivocally that it is true that you do see visions when
you lick a frog. When the first vision started to fade I picked up
another smushed frog and licked it and had another vision. I kept doing
this until another car came along and honked it’s horn at the naked guy
in the middle of the road humping the yellow line with a piece of tire
tread hanging out of his ass.
I quickly put my clothes back on, went back to my car and drove away,
probably smushing hundreds more of the tiny frogs as I made a quick
getaway.
The next day I went back to that same stretch of road but all the frogs,
smushed and unsmushed, were gone. The only thing left were some tiny
splatters of sticky, whitish goo on the yellow line and a piece of tire
tread.
So now I’m still bummed, probably more than before.
COMING NEXT: Life of a crate.