by Jonathan Dy
Have you ever breathed on a spoon and stuck it on your nose? Yeah I can
never do that either.
Have you ever stuck two spoons up your nose and played songs by pulsating your nostrils and clanking the spoons together? Yeah, me too.
Odd Sight: Today I saw a member of a notorious Montreal biker-gang riding a bike.
Clarification: a bicycle... not a motorcycle.
Probable Justification: His bike was in the shop and that was the loaner.
It went down like this: Michael Motorcycle, alias Billy Bicycle, was driving along one day on his hog when he drove by his favorite store which was having a special that day on tattoos and leather jackets with ridiculous logos on them. All attention directed to the sale, he forgot to watch the road that lay ahead of him. In this rare occasion of a biker-gang member losing all forms of intelligence, he drove his bike over a spilled pile of thumbtacks (the hardware store next door was also having a sale... on thumbtacks). The injury to Michael's elbow could have been prevented had he followed the gang's policy of riding with protective padding, but that was not what concerned him. His worries were focused on the status of his bike. He proceeded by bringing his bike into the shop to replace the tires and patch up the scratches caused by the fall. Needing a way to get around town, he requested a loaner, but was disappointed to see the minor downgrade that was given to him... a twelve-speed mountain bike!
Billy was the center of all ridicule by his biker buddies from that point on, and they wouldn't let him play in any biker games. Then one foggy Christmas eve... uhhh... I mean... This is the reason why he could be seen riding alone on a twelve-speeder on this cold day.
But... I've got to admit, that was one mean twelve speeder he was riding!
And... To keep with the bad guy image, I caught him in the act of breaking the law as he crossed that road on a red light!!! But he did ring the bell on his bike to alert all oncoming vehicles that he was crossing.
...(non-response-to-post-story-telling awkward silence)...
... yep... that's the end o my story...
(uhhh, time for a transition sentence Jon... hmmm... think dammit, think! Let's go with this......)
Speaking of motorcycles... I was looking at the horoscopes last week...
(smooth Jon, smooooth!)
Reading horoscopes doesn't make me hopeful for my future, it just makes me wonder. It makes me wonder just who the hell writes them. Last week I was
told by one horoscope that I would soon find that ever sought-after
companion and wedding bells would soon be ringing. I heard wedding bells
the other day driving past a church, but nowhere did I find that companion.
I did step in a puddle though.
Another horoscope told me I would experience heartbreak and that my lucky number was 5 for the week. Well actually, I was late for my first class on Monday by, whadda ya know, 5 whole minutes, and I did have to pee seven whole times that day and seven isn't all that far away from 5. I also had heartburn one day, and I'm sure the guy on the bus yesterday did let a fart break, but I didn't exactly experience heartbreak.
I'm used to my horoscopes being totally way off, but what I wanna know is... is peeing 7 times in one day a little peculiar? I mean, it's not an overwhelming amount, but it does make me wonder whether I have urinary problems. What I'm trying to say here folks is that horoscopes are not the most reliable source for letting you know what your future will hold for you. If you take horoscopic (and I'm not sure that's actually a word, although it should be one) statements more serious than a daily source of laughter, then I would wonder about you and your gullibility (and yes, gullibility is a word).
I bet those prostitutes have a whole lotta sex... (Yeah, so what if I need to put the word 'sex' in my title to attract attention... some wannabe writers have bad days too.)