Look into my eyes. Alright, waaaay too close. Back up.
Posted by Kyle Jacobson , Wednesday, June 2, 2010 7:28 AM
I've been doing a lot of thinking, also a lot of reading. Books, blogs, newspapers, palms. I need more focus. I've decided that I lack some conc.................entration. I'm going to take you on an adventure. So, keep your gray tables up and your feet in the stand up-right position. I am on a search, to find out who I am. I've tried googling it. It wasn't as helpful as one, or two, might like google to be. It sure didn't save my cheesecake from going moldy. Mmmmmm....Cheese......Cake..... Focus. If you have any ideas who I might be, please feel free to tell me. But please whisper it, people are sleeping. Also, I don't want anyone to steal my identity. If anyone were to actually steal my identity they would find themselves in a very troubling situation. It would go something like:
"Weee heeew! I just stoled me sumones eye-dent-itee.""Yous don't even no what an eye-dent-itee is Cliford."
"Sure I's do. It's where I can be sumone I is not."
"Yous sure gots a way with thems words Clif. So, who are ya?"
"I's got no idea..." * * *Three Days Later* * *
"Yous know who you is yet Clif?"
"Alls I know's that ever sense I's got this eye-dent-itee I sure do love the number 5. I's hopin' to catch one of them magic fishes. I hear their real goood at tellin' you who you is." Consider yourself privileged and honored, not necessarily in that order. You have officially (in a non-official way) taken the first step with me in finding out who I really am! Then we tripped, hit our heads, got up five days later confusing ourselves for the Olsen twins.
STEP #1: I prefer the number 5 above all others! Even including the halfway numbers like thrix and fiveven.
Clif and Dutch sat on the bank of the Skibidy-flake river for the next three weeks, tossing back all the normal fish, but not before naming them after 1930's radio stars. They eventually died of not showering. Scientists are looking into that now.
Translatedly,
Kyle
Translatedly,
Kyle
Disclaimer: Animals were definitely harmed in the making of this post. Cancer is very bad for you. Little Nemo is a demon movie that should be burned, stomped on, shot by cannons, digested, regurgitated, smashed, deathed, and put through an Easy-bake oven. Also, this contains small parts not for people above the age of 75.
Is there any way to post a picture to someone elses blog?