TRIPPIN' ON THE GULF COAST

I just returned from the Gulf coast, where I had a marvelous time. I won first place in the Sand Sculpture contest at the beach. I constructed a very large refinery, complete with gas burn off towers and shoddy maintenance records. The judges thought the oil and tar balls added a nice touch of realism to the whole thing. I would have taken a photo, but some government people came in a bulldozer and scooped it all up into a dump truck. Then they said it never happened, and if I didn't shut up, my family and I would be institutionalized for the rest of our lives. I reminded them that we are all a bunch of certified crazies, and there isn't an asylum built that we can't take over. If they put all my relatives in the same building there would be such a conflagration as to stagger the imagination. Before you can ask, "Who ordered all these Margarita machines?", we'll be running the joint. We're talking wholesale inmate releases, weekend passes for the rest, staff reductions, and deficit spending becoming the new Standard Operating Procedure.


We'll also have the best looking lawn of any nuthouse around, because we know how to talk to the plants. That's why they're on our side. Keep that in mind during any attempt to retake the facility.


Which brings me to this week's POTW. Salt on the rim. About a weeks pay for a Roman Centurion. Life is good. Enjoy it.