Inquisitive Carl Finds Something to Drink
First of all, let me congratulate you on putting your street cans out on time. Usually you’re up at six in the morning, hurrying your cans to the road in your underwear just in time for the truck to pass. This time though, you got it out the night before, so some mediocre suburb congratulations are in order.
Lucky for you, too, since it rained last night, although watching you run out mostly naked through the rain would have been a hoot. Regardless, this morning I stumbled out into the road, howled into the dawn air until I angered someone, wandered down your drive way, and stumbled on an overturned trash can lid full of rain water and let me tell you, I was overjoyed.
Trash water has all of the liquidity of regular water, but has the smell of old beef and the taste of dirty rubber. It is delightful. I partook for a good solid 5 minutes. I know it isn’t the best stuff for you. I could feel the bacon-wrapped BPA entering my blood stream and wrecking absolute havoc on my kidneys, or maybe my brain. You know what, probably both. But that smooth, buttery taste of filth-water is what gets me going in the morning.
Maybe it was the tumors talking, but I loved it so much I figured I’d share it with the world, so I doused myself in it and squirmed all over your BMW Whateverwagon. You know, the one I made disgusting trash-pudding muffins on top of the other day. I’m glad to see you had it cleaned. Now it smells like a peanut butter toilet brush.
Anyway, if you could leave the lid out more often I might be inclined to help out with that disgusting snake problem you have in your flower pots. You know about that, right?
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