Behold a Giant Muh

Saving Society from Itself

When soldiers come to take you and your family away for reprogramming to serve in their underground sugar caves, I will sneak into your house late at night and eat all of your chocolate chips. Oh, and I will take everything you have ever written to our secret press, Limp Member Publications, and print it for everyone to see under the title, “Barracuda Sneeze Agent.”

True story about mentally ill neighbor, circa 1999:

She wears a fur coat regardless of the weather, and prowls the streets looking for rat trash, coming and going at ten minute intervals. She stares at the ground and won’t look at me when I say hello. In the late afternoon, she carefully arranges the following items on my doorstep, all of which have obviously come from the street:

Entry from years ago in the Blakk Bük…

Lately I have been deeply troubled by imagining what it must feel like to get hit in the back of the head with a baseball bat. Once in a while I think I’d rather be wearing a helmet. But then I’m worried about my knees, my face, my groin. Soon I imagine wearing full body armor.

A week after I started thinking about this, it dawned on me that I should be wearing one of those giant foam suits they use for simulated dogs attacks, or in those classes where they teach women to kick attackers in the nuts.

They used pepper spray on unruly fans at a football game recently, so maybe my foam suit should have its own oxygen supply, like a high-impact space suit.

Maybe I should just go live in the mountains.

Today was beautiful. Blue sky, breeze, cool then warm. I felt friendly and happy to be working outdoors. At the same time, though, I became really discouraged by a couple of things…

On the other hand, I saw lots of people I know and like, and they were all happy to see me.

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