Grand Canyon

Tonight, as I was leaving the house, I considered turning on the porch light so people would have some light while they were coming and going. I reconsidered, however, when I concluded that I would be the only one either going or coming, and I could easily get by with my excellent night vision; besides, electricity costs money. So I jogged through the dark to my car with no mishaps, until I hit a little snag in the form of a giant crevasse in my driveway. As I started into my graceful ninja roll which would land me back on my feet, I was momentarily distracted by the brutal irony of the situation. This caused my roll to go completely awry and I instead gracefully smashed both of my knees and one of my hands. My one comfort as I lay there was that I could use all the money I saved to pay for bionic legs. I will be rebuilt. Better than I was before. Better, stronger, faster. Here is an anticipated picture of me, post-surgery.


All of the DJs in Kirksville conspired tonight to play awful music, except for one song: "Can't Touch This." What a phat beat! I actually was too young to really get into M.C. Hammer's music when he was popular, but I certainly remember watching Hammerman. M.C. can make a path out of music notes to escape from a crashing airplane like nobody else.