Ok, so that doesn't really make much sense. But today I decided that self-constraint and reason could go sit in time-out awhile and think about what they've done. The Dunce Hat is optional. But anyway, yes, I decided that using an "inside voice" and caring whether everyone around me disapproved Random Acts of Lunacy was not in the cards. There's just something about a Friday and the fact that I no longer had any projects looming ominously over my head that made me want to throw caution to the wind. Of course, it didn't help my efforts that I threw it directly into the wind and it subsequently flew back and smacked me in my face. Still, the desired effect was accomplished.
I also developed a new idea for when I have complete control of reality. Well, it's more of a continuation of an old one, but this time added on. I still think that it would be quite an interesting superpower to make everything in your near vicinity take the form of a dramatic musical. People would constantly sing instead of speaking and all sorts of things like triumphant marches, daring sword fights, elephant stampedes, massive overthrows of the reigning Overlord, you get the drift. So today I thought it would be nice to just form a line or procession of people and march through the halls on Fridays singing in choreographed movement. It'd be great if it started out with just a few and gained momentum until we reached the parking lot and ended with a huge dramatic note. Of course, the fire code breakage alone would be disturbing, but I can dream can't I? Oh. I can't? Well...umm...fine. I guess I'll......make a mad getaway in that idle winnebago(criticize spelling if you dare) and ride off on into the sunset! Away!
So Dylan hopped in that magical winnebago and travelled all over the country. Eventually he developed a whole highway procession and an army formed. He then set his sights on taking over all of Nebraska, hoping that with the fall of the heartland the rest would follow. Unfortunately, he had a flat on the way there, stopped in Kansas, and the wild chickenhawks that roam that barren land lit his gas tank on fire, creating a gigantic explosion and spreading a holocaust of flame across the countryside. By the time it was put out, Dylan had only one eyebrow left, and this loss left him bitter and inconsolable for the rest of his days. The End.
Well, I figured I had to throw some random nonsense at you. It's been awhile. Ok, so maybe not. Have a good weekend anyway.
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