Happy Food and Killer Rigs

Only a few people have entered my mind and survived to tell the story; but just like milk, moonshine, and Jonestown Kool-Aid, you can only drink so much. In this world of random nothingness, I ponder constantly about things that none have dared to, for lack of better words. Things like, does my breakfast food love me?
Does Wiley Coyote ever consider moving to the city, where packages from ACME are always sent to the wrong address? Has Will Farrell ever said anything funny? Will Joan Rivers eventually implode from all that skin tightening?

Here's a thought for the day. I think trucks are out to get us. Why would I say such a thing? Because I can see them staring at me every time I'm driving behind one...













and the damn Pepsi truck was even laughing at me.


Last night I was thinking how it would be great if someone invented an air conditioner that goes inside your pillow. You know how you get it to where it's nice and cool, but it only lasts a couple minutes, if that; then you have to keep flipping it over and over to keep the cold side on your face.
Or what about remote control socks, or a battery charger that's only good for charging its own batteries. At least it would never go dead.
Anyway, I'll keep it short because it's late, but don't think I won't save some for tomorrow.