I went off, because today’s cereality was at its highest. This Dallas, Texas high school scholar was M.I.A. from a Home Depot Kids’ workshop, and that was fine with me because I preffered the entertainment of the 1080 d.p.i. here in the lobby. It was a Sony. I was on an imagination mover tour of the fourth kind, a true story, with a group from Cape Charles, Virginia. We traveled across Scioto Downs while they constructed casinos in Ohio at the point of an FN 5.7 millimeter punch card ballot.
My tourette syndrome was kicking in like a mother trucker and I spouted lines like Oscar the Grouch as the Mississippi River crested. I laughed as people told their droid phones to send text reviews to 411. My eyes darted as Air Force wings passed over my homestead and through my ear buds I heard Rihanna say that Tom Cruise was dead in a 20/20 interview. I flew the bird and switched my trauma, only to find that Scott Becker was looking for April with a New Mexico soccer mom named Elizabeth Lambert. The who, the what, the where? The two were poised electric, crying over the Fort Hood’s victims list; as was I.
I hate to blubber, so I nodded the channel in a new direction and spent a few ticks watching the Jacksonville, Florida Ironman Air Show. Diane Sawyer was resplendent on a pair of freeline skates as she argued black Friday deals with Wayman Tisdale and munched on petit fors from Petite Abeilla. Sammy Sosa broke up my dig to remind me I had a pumpkin chuckin double date with Reese Witherspoon and Cameron Diaz. We were going to raise money for Rob Lowe’s Healthcare Reform and the H1NI Free Clinic. It was a crusade down at the Wrentham Developmental Center which the CBS Sunday Morning show would be filming; and I just love that show. Off I went.
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Comments: 13
The Surreal Circus appreciates your marveling at the "real-world", from smack, dead center.
Twitter that and pass the remote.
A proud feature Sir Bill.