Idealist

Yes, you may call me an idealist, but when I set my mind to it, I expect something to get done. When I stare point-blank at a wall, I expect it to get painted. I expect grass to grow, pensioners to shrink, and tectonic plates to make with the bust-a-move. So you can imagine how upset I was to hear that, despite my best efforts, a watched pot did (most emphatically) not boil. This was heart-wrenching and heart-retching, and I admit that while I don't always make sure my convection range is spotless, it has always been functional. The chefs on TV make it seem so easy, with their pre-boiled water, but in real life, the boiling point of water is hard to pin down.

Speaking of moving targets, the International Statistical Association just released some troubling figures the other week. Did you know that 35% of all fibrophages are Canadian in origin? Or that 18% of school children think boats are wingless airplanes? Everyone knows that boats are wheel-less trains. Call me crazy, but should our tax dollars really be spent convincing children that boats can fly? That rarely happens. I'd rather they be taught how to deal with a Canadian fibrophage monopoly.

A little bit off-topic, but have any of you seen my dog? It's a couple of feet long, or shorter than that. It's either a beagle or a great Dane, I forget which, and I might be thinking of a monitor lizard. It answers only to its own name, which I have been unable to learn. In the span of my life, I've owned seven dogs, sixteen cats, thirty-seven parrots, one hyperactive pig, and the Montauk Monster. On the whole, the Monster was the most well-behaved, though it ate a villager. Fortunately, there are, like, soooo many other villagers. So if you see either a stray dog, or a Monster, call me. My phone number is the same as your local city council, except you have to scream as loud as you can when they pick up; that transfers you to my line. You need to believe me, because nobody else will.