Life ain't fair. Deal with it.

Thursday, April 27, 2000 [by:SpaceBass]

'Twas Bryl Cream in the slippery tube, did goo and gush to start my day.  Then memories of the brand new stoves and stovepipes, whisked away.   Bare were the cinderblocks, my son!  The coals that heat, the oven's latch!  No longer a cookstove had I, to roast my bandersnatch.  I took my butcher knife in hand, for a scapegoat cast about, remembered that I lived alone and plopped down on the couch.  And as I sat I heard a knock, my scapegoat was at hand: the ass who repossessed my stove, still screaming 'bout the tab!  One, two!  One, two!  I threw my shoes, my knife now full forgotten.  Though as I threw the first, he dodged, I know the second got him.  He ran off down the walk, tossing back obscenities, and now he's somewhere lurking, plotting vengeance upon me.   Mmmm, slithy.