I woke up this morning, friday the 13th with great feelings of impending doom. I put my t-shirt on backwards while getting dressed. It was those fruit of the loom guys playing the same old familiar joke on me once again, though I know I can’t prove it (just yet). I slowly and cautiously walked from my bedroom to the kitchen, so as not to trip and stumble to the floor and possibly even die as a result of my injuries. Who then will be able to continue to solve the many hidden mysteries all around my apartment, which only I am able to only do so in the first place?
Example..one afternoon, most recently I came across a very tiny piece of dark blue pocket lint on the kitchen floor (I didn’t know what it was until after I picked it up). It was the lint fairy again. I knew it. And this time I even took a picture of the evidence before tossing it in the trash like the others, just in case (you never know)…
Getting back to where I left off. I eventually made it safely to the kitchen somehow without falling down and dying a very slow and painful death, and proceeded to nuke a frozen pancake meal while purposely standing away at a very safe distance. I don’t claim to know the future, or how I’m going to die one day, but I do know that it’s not going to be by radiation poisoning if I can possibly help it. So anyway, here now is my latest conspiracy theory.
I was having trouble eating. I sensed that something was very, very wrong as I attempted to chew but could not bring myself to swallow. That’s when it hit me good and hard. Aunt Jemima had been looking right at me the whole entire time. I quickly turned the syrup bottle around before taking very careful baby steps to the bathroom to spit my food into the toilet. Then suddenly a light bulb went off in my head. No wonder I had been having so much trouble going to the bathroom lately, the tidy bowl man was in on it too.
I instantly felt I had to tell the world about my latest discovery, but how was I ever going to properly be able to do just so with a mouthful of food I couldn’t spit into my toilet? Which is exactly what brings me ‘here’ in the first place…Oh, I already know what you are probably thinking. Wouldn’t it be logical to simply step outside and spit the food out on the lawn? Believe me you, I would indeed but then the space aliens might finally get me. Who in their right mind would ever take such a foolish chance to be abducted and stuck in outer space with a mouth full of food and consequently also unable to scream for help?
I’ve attached some of my most recent pics (cold hard evidence). NOW do you believe me?..
My very own little golden book for adults. 