I'm Not "Shufflin'" Every Day, Only Sometimes

Boy oh boy this week has been a good week for random humor. I won't go into any more detail than that because cacti don't apply for bank loans as often as I would like. Even so, should you allow yourself to underestimate the type of crow that eats rats, you wouldn't have enough spare time to go bowling. If you went to the DMV and just like sat around, would someone tell you to leave? I mean, when you have a reason to be at the DMV you just sit around anyway. Is there a 'you must be there because we make you be there' policy? Or is the DMV legally a public place that you can just like, hang out at? Can you imagine a birthday party at the DMV? That would probably be the worst thing ever. "Happy birthday Timmy! Don't mind all the really angry folk sitting around while someone behind a desk calls out numbers that no one has."

What if you started being extremely loud at the DMV? Is the DMV like the library where being loud is frowned upon, but they really can't stop you if you are loud? Or would being loud be acceptable in the DMV? Like, if you just brought in a 1980's style beat box giant radio thing and turned the volume all the way up, would someone ask you to leave? If you didn't leave would the police come and force you to leave? Probably so, but if the DMV was public property they couldn't lawfully make you leave. What if you brought your very large and smelly dog to the DMV?

What if you smelled smelly? They couldn't make you leave for that, surely. Even if you purposely rolled around in poopoo before coming to the DMV, it would be really rude for them to point out how smelly you were. What if you smelled fine, but brought a machete into the DMV? You weren't gonna do anything with it, you just had it with you when you walked in. Completely coincidental that it happens to be a dangerous weapon. Would they confiscate it? Would the people there make a citizen's arrest? Probably not because they're already really miserable. What's a smelly beat box and machete wielding man going to do to their mood? If anything he'll have some really interesting stories about Vietnam. That could really be beneficial to you while sitting at the DMV.

-Griffin

I could But Also Chaney

Oh, hello. I didn't see you, for you are not anywhere near me. I just wanted to talk to you about certain things regarding insurance policies. But then I realized why the crap would I want to be talking about insurance policies. So I'm going to talk about income taxes instead. There isn't anyone that doesn't like income taxes. Everyone loves it. Even the people at the Cheesecake Factory. I mean, not that people from the Cheesecake Factory are different from anyone else, but they sure do smell weird. Like, wooden fruit loops or something. What if you invested so much that your own feet decided that they no longer want to be a part of your risky endeavors, so they just left? What would happen? Would you be sad?

I feel obligated by the state of California to mention the local 3000 quartic inches of grapefruit skins that I found in Nevada. Wondering why I'm obligated by California? Me too. I mean, no one likes California. I've never been to California, and I've never been obligated by a state before. I like lettuce though. Maybe that's what they were talking about when they sent me that salad bar in a box. I don't tend to worry about things though. Plaid suits are extremely classy. Too classy for hotels.

What if there were only four different type of cake instead of like sixteen hundred? Would there be like, ten world wars instead of two? What if you used your hips as legs instead of your legs as legs? Would there be no world wars instead of two? Because like, it would be hard to shoot people when your just like, face down...on the ground. Because hip legs. Hip-leg Syndrome. I will invent this. Tasty Mold Industries.

-Griffin

Boulders Could

Hello! Hello! I said hello twice because I've said hello once to start out a post before. I just wanted to mix things up. You know how it is. Gravel. Even so, I wouldn't know to go for the NOSE. The end. That's all I had to say about that thing. I have no idea. I don't even think nose rhymes with so and go. The last part at least. WHAT ABOUT THE FIRST PART, you may be asking. And I will never answer your question. Mostly because you are probably not real, but secondly because why the heck would I answer your question? I don't know you. You could be evil. I don't like being around evil people. They're evil.

Anyway, how are you? I don't care, but the laws of social interaction dictate that I must ask you. This isn't even social interaction come to think about it. You know what, you suck. There. Take that government. I have many ideas of ways to build benches. Saying politically correct things makes you a real dumb face. No one likes a dumb face. If you're a dumb face and you're reading this, you're a dumb face. Take that, dumb face. Even if your face is really smart, you're a dumb face.

So I entitled this post Boulders Could. I would like to talk about how magazines will forever be known as the things no one reads anymore. Reading a magazine is about as efficient as sticking your hands into a lit flame. You'll just get nothing done. For weeks after even. You normally don't recover from third degree burns before the first twenty minutes anyway. I really enjoy buying cakes inside of Coca-Cola onions. The end.

-Griffin

OH NO WHAT

OH NO HOW'S IT GOING I DON'T REALLY HAVE TIME FOR POSTING TODAY SO I'M GONNA MAKE THIS SHORT AND ALL CAPS TO MAKE IT SEEM LIKE IT'S GOING FASTER AND I'M NOT GOING TO USE PUNCTUATION MARKS BECAUSE THAT SLOWS THINGS DOWN AND GOING FAST IS DIFFICULT WHEN I'M SICK AND I AM SICK IT'S LIKE A HEAD COLD AND I CAN DO A GOOD MORGAN FREEMAN VOICE BECAUSE OF THE SICKNESS I HAVE THAT MODIFIES MY THROATS DEALINGS WHICH OVERALL DEEPENS MY VOICE AND DOES OTHER THINGS LIKE MUCUS BUT I WON'T GO INTO THAT TOO MUCH BECAUSE THAT'S GROSS AND YOU DON'T WANT TO HEAR ABOUT THAT KIND OF STUFF DID I MENTION I'M SICK I MEAN I STILL HAVE TO GO TO SCHOOL BUT THE TEACHERS ARE STUPID AND I'M SICK SO I SOUND LIKE A TURTLE MORGAN FREEMAN AND CARDBOARD BOXES HOW IN THE WORLD.

-GRIFFIN

Porty

Hello there salad man. Speaking of salad man, I didn't know how to eat salad until a few days ago....man. I had a plan for this post, but I have decided I won't be doing it until I do do it. My plan was to write this entire post like it was 1823. But seeing as researching how people wrote blog posts in 1823 is dumb, and I'm lazy, I won't be doing that until I do do it. It won't be extremely difficult, because I can just say, "What's a car?" and be done with it. But I don't want to do that until I do do it. All it does is subtract from the experience of 1929 which is a much better year for blog posts. They even had cars back then. See how simple that was? Hoot is what owls do.

Gravel would be your favorite thing if you hated liking things that are actually good. Really. It would. Like, if you enjoyed Macs instead of PCs, there's a chance you'd like gravel. Or if you enjoyed light bulbs that are squiggly instead of bacon, there's a chance that you're just plain stupid. Really. Squiggly light bulbs over bacon? Come on. That's absurd. HA! DID YOU CATCH THAT?! I PUT PART OF THE TITLE OF THE BLOG ON THIS BLOG POST! LOOK HOW CREATIVE I AM. I draw lines for a living. I'm unemployed. I draw OWLS for a living. And by owls I mean mail men. Mail men are cool. How are you?

Stop reading this after this now right this here you go. Can you understate the fact that there is no reason to undermine the understanding whales of the under the sea. Hello. I really have no idea what is happening, but you'll know once you find the secret key hidden underneath Al Gore's sofa. He probably doesn't even have a sofa. He probably has a Prius. In his living room. From which he watched televised video from Hooligan Town. That is a real place in Connecticut. Really. Look it up. Don't actually. Hope salad for three.

-Griffin

Ribbons

Good even- ... morning! I made the title of this post 'Ribbons'! Do you know why? Good! It seems odd, but it feels like I've used 'Ribbons' as a title before. I'm fairly certain I haven't, but it sure feels like it. Like, it feels like when you go to rob a bank, but then you realize you are in prison for murdering someone. And you also realize that robbing a bank could put you in the exact same situation that you are currently in from unrelated causes. It's like that, only with titles of posts and the word ribbons. Don't judge me. Judge Judy. She has no tongue. Oh dear. I could have sworn that tongue was spelled tounge. Oh well. Either way, I like broccoli and you can't do anything about it!

The Matrix is cool. Not the move, like the colorful bandwagon. And not like bandwagon, bandwagon. I mean like a band playing songs in a wagon. It's not immediate. But we all no for sure that we can all know if not for certain than for sure that we can know these that we do not already do know because we can for certain. Even if you ate three and a half bacon lettuces, you would still not ever understand the moral of this paragraph.

Oh hello there. How are you doing? I can't recall the last time I talked. Because I have no mouth. That is why I cannot recall. If you had a mouth, I bet you could recall the last time you talked. But I cannot because of my lack of mouth. What if you were sitting in a wooden chair, and then a tornado came? Would you just fly up in your chair? What if you were laughing hysterically while this happened? What if you were laughing historically while this happened? The world may never know.


-Griffin 

Nitrous Tomato Land

G'day to you! I am here to tell you that you don't need your feet. Feet just get in the way of things. You have to get like shoes and things for them. You have a job. You don't have time for shoes and things. Sure they make it easier for moving, but what do you think wheels are for? Rolling. That's what. If you wanted to roll, and had feet, you wouldn't be able to roll. Because feet are not round. Which means they can't roll. Let's just think about this for a second. You need arms. Arms move things like belts or waffle irons. You need eyes. Eyes see things like advertisements and waffle irons. You need hair. Hair sees things like waffle irons and freedom. Okay, I'm done with this paragraph. I had no intention on taking it any further than feet, but I took it too far. I'm done writing this.

I don't know if this is happened before, it seems like it has, but Blogspot has just underlined that entire first paragraph in red. They think, for some reason, that my first paragraph of this post is a very large word and incorrectly spelled. I cannot take this. I will have a mental breakdown. Like a car on a road only with water and a large can of tuna. What if lettuce had three flavors? That's my question of they day. Should you? No. Probably fourteen, let alone gas station. No one needs trash compacting alien boosters.

If you knew the possibilities of all the types of onion ring manufacturers, then you would have no problem at all decoding the eventual cloud commanding passwords. Then again, if you knew what the cloud commanding passwords were already, then you would have no problem at all decoding the eventual cloud commanding passwords. Because you would have already known them. Therefore, you would not need to learn them. You could act all cool when someone asks you what you think the cloud commanding passwords are, and you can like tell them the real things. Then they'll buy you a coffee and spill it accidentally. Ralph.

-Griffin