Since it’s very difficult for me to sustain a coherent series of thoughts throughout an entire article, I will resort to submitting what we call “cranial poots” here on FFT. A “cranial poot” is a random thought unconnected to any overall theme. Passing thoughts, like passing gas, aren’t really planned … they just appear and stink up the joint. Believe me, I don’t know what the next line is going to be. We’ll make it up as we go along.
What we see here is an example of a two-dimensional, hand-rendered “cranial poot.” The casual observer may recognize these “poots” by the fact that the person who “dealt it” usually refuses to take responsibility for its origins. I, on the other hand, sign mine and am very proud of myself when people groan and run from the room. Maybe that’s a “guy” thing, I don’t know. At any rate, here are some examples of “Cranial Poots” to savor:
I was named “Philip” which I’m told means “lover of horses.” According to the Chinese calendar I was born in the “Year of the Horse.” This may explain why I married a nag.
Note: I’m just kidding! My wife isn’t really a nag, she’s just a very accomplished “suggester.” Anyone who knows her (or me) realizes I just took the whole “horse” thing to milk a cheap gag out of an otherwise pedestrian statement. Again, it’s what I do. Isn’t it, dear? Dear? Oh, crap.
As many of you know, I am running for a big, comfy seat on the city council. Just because I’ve been laying low for the last few days doesn’t mean the campaign is off. I take a few days off here and there in order to move my campoon hindquarters and keep some of the other council members off guard. It’s come to my attention that some of these guys are heavily armed. No sense taking any chances.
You see, it’s important that I continue this campaign. I am the only transparent candidate that you can see through. Since I have no substance (other than WWODs) you can be relatively sure I won’t harm YOU, the citizen voters of Redding. I’m running this write-in campaign because I’m right, and it’s your afterbirthright as an American to exercise your writes by taking your Waxy Weapon Of Democracy (a crayon in the color of your choice, I suggest Periwinkle Blue) and righting a ship that’s needs writing by righting me into office! I promise once I’m there, you’ll never see me again. That’s why I’m the transparent candidate and they aren’t. Remember, they all have agendas, I don’t. They won’t give me one because they’re afraid I’ll read it. So remember, I’m NOT INSANE. Let’s hear my opponent say that. If he does I’ll sue him for copywrite-in infringement.
There are other things I’ve been thinking about recently, aside from the campoon. I’ve been thinking about life. You know, what it is and why am we here anyhoo and all that stuff. After much pondering, I’ve come to the conclusion that we only exist so that somewhere in this world SOMEBODY, or SOME THING will laugh at Jimmy Kimmel. More intelligent lifeforms out there would never do it so the All-Seeing-All-Knowing fabric of the Universe had to come up with something and it turned out to be us. I still have no theory on Britney Spears but we must’ve all kicked a puppy in a previous life because the All-Seeing-All-Knowing fabric of the Universe is really pissed-off at us, There’s no other explanation.
Just like there’s no real excuse for today’s column. I just had these cranial poots that had to come out. Sorry you got in the way.
