To course across more kindly waters now
So I'm watching TV, and the news scroller is crawling across the bottom of the screen. I see "Forest Fire," hear the anchors chattering about the grease fire, and think, "Shit, how does a grease fire take out a forest?" I guess fairs are more dangerous than you think, and not just because of the carnies. One false move and WHOOSH! That delicious funnel cake fryer flips a fatty glob of burning hot oil towards the scorched summer earth and lo! You have set the whole countryside aflame with your lustful need for fried dough covered in a glistening dusting of delicious powdered sugar.
The powdered donut of Lucky5 continues to clog arteries wherever it twitches. Some Sharpies at The Outpost have done a number with the code, whittling it down to some digestible chunks and a few well-appointed spreadsheets. To which one of the many IPs will the Goodship Lucky5 port? I suppose it could be like one of those pirate ship rides where the ship, attached to a giant pivot point in the sky, goes back and forth back and forth on and on for what seems an eternity, never stopping, never pausing, and I end up sitting and puking. Man, I hate those. Almost as much as I hate an elephant ear steeped in old grease.
Yo ho hork and a bowel of runs.
I rode this corkscrew swirlie twirlie rollercoaster once. Sat in the back, as everyone knows the lag is nil and the weight of the cars in front of you whips the end around like it's weightless. We were going into the second loop - you could see the front of the car pause at the top of the arc before it fell like a brick towards the ground. You could also see the spit wad hang in the air, waiting for the tail of the snake to slide closer. Our courses were set. Our ships to meet at the same port.
Posted by StuR on August 27, 2007 04:38 AM | Permalink