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Wednesday, March 28, 2007

A Public Service Message


The Warning Signs Of Insanity

Your friends tell you that you have been acting strange lately. You discuss the subject seriously with them for several minutes, and then hit them with a sledgehammer.

Everyone you meet appears to have tentacles growing out of places that you wouldn't expect tentacles to be growing from.

You start out each morning with a 30-minute jog around the bathroom.

You write to your mother in Germany every week, even though she sends you mail from Iowa asking why you never write.

You don't pay any attention to street signs, because "they" probably switched them around to confuse you.

You wear your boxers on your head because you heard it will ward of evil dandruff spirits.

You're always having to apologize to your next door neighbor for setting fire to his lawn decorations.

People stay away from you whenever they hear you howl.

Nobody listens to you anymore, because they can't understand you through that scuba mask.

You begin to stop and consider all of the blades of grass you've stepped on as a child, and worry that their ancestors are going to one day seek revenge.

You constantly argue about politics -with your toaster.

You bronzed your collection of dead windowsill flies.

Everytime the phone rings, you shout, "Hey! An angel just got its wings!"

You like cats. Especially with mayo.

You scream "I've got a knife!" to people who try to sell you things.

You scream "I've got a knife!" to people at your family reunion.

You cry at the end of every episode of Gilligan's Island, because they weren't rescued.

You put tennis balls in the microwave to see if they'll hatch.

Whenever you listen to the radio, the music sounds backwards.

You have a pathalogical fear of fabric softener.

You wake up each morning and find yourself sitting on your head in the middle of your front lawn.

Your dentist asks you why each individual tooth has your name etched on it, and you tell him it's for security reasons.

When the waiter asks for your order, you ask to go into another room to tell him, because "the napkins have ears."

You tend to agree with everything your mother's dead uncle tells you.

You call up random people and ask if you can borrow their dog, just for a few minutes.

You like to sit in cornfields for prolonged periods of time, and pretend that you're a stalk.

You believe every single word that Dick Cheney and Ann Coulter say.

9 comments:

Cissy Strutt said...

Okay, I was doing well til I got to the 'bronzing dead flies' sign. You know, I'd like to see that.

Forrest Proper said...

Cissy- my dead Uncle Irving says he agrees with you, so it's ok.

Mike said...

I am so glad you posted this. Now I don't feel so bad about putting ostrich eggs in my pants and praying to the Easter Pig while singing the Australian national anthem.

That seems so normal to me now.

Phoebe Fay said...

Everyone you meet appears to have tentacles growing out of places that you wouldn't expect tentacles to be growing from.

Precisely, from which places would you expect tentacles to be growing?

Anonymous said...

Um. So exactly how many of these can you have before you're insane?

Just asking.

Anonymous said...

Hey, and Mike - only one more week till the Easter Pig brings those yummy chocolate bacon rashers! Yay!

Forrest Proper said...

Mike & Reverend- I've always loved the Easter Pig, and am awed with wonder at the great work that loving little porker does in bringing joy and goodness to the hearts of deserving little Christian children around the world. I didn't know he was Australian though. Does that mean we should serve him with Vegamite instead of apple sauce?

Phoebe- I think the answer to that depends on whether you ever worked for Dick Cheney.

Reverend- How should I know? I didn't write the test - those damned dead flies I keep on the dresser told it to me and I transcribed it for them.

Sorry- what was the question?

Catalyst said...

Gee, I was doing o.k. until I got to the last one. Now I'm worried.

Forrest Proper said...

Catalyst- Just stay the course.