Well, I suppose I was wrong in stating I would write something today. But I’ll see what I can do about that tomorrow. But here’s something:

Rubber Jimmy was not a real guy. He was fictional. And he certainly wasn’t Rubber. But he was still called Rubber Jimmy. At some point, he picked up the name, and it stuck. That’s the story of Rubber Jimmy.

This guy was totally baking a fried ham when it bit him. Surprised that his ham had a mouth, teeth and the necessary musculature to bite he took it back to the store from which he’d bought it. The storeowner explained that that particular ham was always troublesome. The man got his money back and the storeowner threw out the ham. The end.

That’s neither a joke nor a story, really. It’s just a paragraph about a ham that could bite.

For as long as Bosmo could remember, he’d been a truck. But that all changed one morning when he woke up and was not a truck. He was a man. This was an unnexpected turn of events for Bosmo, who had previously assumed that he would be a truck forever. However, he took it in stride and lived well as a man, until he went back to being a truck. And that was that.

Barring any major mechanical malfunctions, tonight should be a nice, easy and short workday for me. I like it.

Okay, it’s nine years in the future and you suddenly don’t have lungs. You’re still getting around fine without them, but people have started mocking you and it is, frankly, getting annoying. Finally some guy dressed like a pirate comes up to you claiming to have the power to return your missing organs. Unfortunately it turns out he thought you were some guy whose shipment of musical instruments had gone missing. I guess what I’m trying to say is, the future, she looks bleak.

Haiku!

Golden Explosives!
They’re the most expensive kind.
Worth every penny.

Today I was informed that I needn’t be at work until two hours later than I was expecting. Which kicks ass. I got to be all eat-with-Marq-and-Kip-y. Which is way better than being at work. Way better. But now I still have to get ready for work. Which is less pleasing.

Once, a man was working in a factory and Satan appeared before him. “Man,” Satan said, “I will give you five bucks if you make me a sandwich.” The man considered the offer and decided to go through with it. The sandwich was alright, but not great. And that’s why Satan only accepts souls in trade these days.

And that’s what I have to say for today.

Okay, after tonight I have two days off. I’ll try to accomplish something with those that justifies my love for myself.