Somewhere I suspected that a Dewalt Drill driver would be the ideal answer to surgical correction of degenerative disk disease. In the downtown developmental district I admired and ran my fingertips lovingly over its double diamond design. My mind wandered over to my dark darling diva, who despite her drug detection dog, did not detect anything worth mentioning with her dual disk drive even though it was designed by a doctor using defined daily doses. A dolphin dissuasive device was not enough to deter the typical Detroit drunk driver who despite the diarrhea due to dehydration dies due to drugs instead. Along with Dewey, Doug and the Decimals and using detailed design documents, a diagnosis of disk disease was determined by a Department of Defense directive regarding the Dead dog drooling. I brought my Dewalt drill driver, a surgical mask and latex gloves. I was ready.
Electra was horrified. She had just witnessed an extreme energy event by sixteen sugared up six year olds. Here she was, having an advanced degree in Ecology, Ethology and evolution, and she was being made a fool of by these eagle eyed electric children. It was too much for a normal nervous system to take or take in. The Electrolyte Orchestra was playing on the jukebox, which was a rock band started by a group of disaffected biochemistry grad students. What Electra had missed in her essential early education that led to this English essay exam escaped her. Meanwhile the Daleks screamed “Explore, Expand, Exterminate!!!”
Five families fighting the flu, in an effort to find freedom from fear decided to fuck the forest forever and go for logs and toilet paper as their goal. It was also once again food fight friday night at the local federation of fish fryers. Bring your polyester clothes. No sentimental environmentalists they. We are getting together to watch every last episode of Finnegan’s Island starting with the pilot and descending from there. It is about a boatload of Joyce scholars who are shipwrecked on an island with nothing to read but an old battered copy of the Da Vinci code.
Were we wondering what would Jesus do? No we were thinking about what Waylon Jennings did, which was to enjoy Whiskey, Wine and Jack Daniels. The angels in heaven were wondering what He had just designed and what would Jehovah do, if he weren’t taking a vacation right now in Venezuela and not taking messages.
The dynamic dream team was contemplating deep down things such as detecting a dial tone in the brains of the drinking team drivers. But I had lost my dictionary of dog terms just before I was going to visit the doggie drive thru. And that was the very moment in my busy day that the dreaded diabolic death match troopers dropped in on me.
See you next time same station, bye.
