Rants & Raves
Wednesday, July 11, 2001
I put my finger on it. It felt sort of sticky like glue. I managing to maneuvered my finger into such a position as to drag it out of its dark confined space. I lost my grip of it a few times, but eventually it was betwixt my fingers. I studied it in detail, as it lay motionless on the end of my digit. It was a sort of a dark brown colour with distinct green tinting, no distinct shape, just a mass of itself. I began to roll the glob between my fingers, at first it was a glutinous sticky mass, but the more I rolled the less it stuck to my fingers. Eventually it became a tight ball.
I don’t know how long these furrowed brows had been aimed at me, but all at once I noticed many of them, some with mouths agape. The entire dining room of McDonalds was watching in apparent disgust. Flush with shame, I realised my peers had deemed my nose trophy inappropriate. To redeem myself in their eyes I would have to discard of my find quickly. I popped the boogie into my moth. A sudden intake of air, heads turned and a few retching noises were heard. I could now easily make my escape.
Monday, July 09, 2001
Do you feel the uncontrollable urge to dress in a red suit & long beard?
Do you often carry a sack about hoping to give presents to good little boys and girls?
Do you prefer to enter your home through the chimney?
Is your nose red and do you sport a large belly?
Do you enjoy singing Christmas carols no matter what season?
Well you may be just right to join the Santanist! We’re currently looking for prospective members to join our secret society. Guaranteed initiation rituals to satisfy even the most ardent of cultists. Meet other Santanists; you may not realise just how many people like yourself there are. Make new friends, discover new enemies and have a ho-ho-ho good time. Gain access to a large range of Santa paraphernalia for sale or rent at discount rate. Join today to receive cheap off-season fees.
Dial: 9393-HoHo today.
Monday, July 02, 2001
It was the largest baked bean I’d ever seen, and there it was, precariously astride the upper lip of the gentleman who sat opposite me. It must have been perched there for quite a few days; baked beans were last served on Monday. The untrained eye may have easily mistaken the bean for a growth, but being a bean connoisseur I’m not easily fooled. He seemed totally oblivious to the bean, as he slurped up his potato and leek soup. Choosing my moment carefully to avoid spoon scoops of hot dripping soup I plucked the bean off his lip, for which he thanked me. I now keep it in a small pill bottle beside my bed at the boarding house. For 50c I’ll show it to you.
