|What the hell am I ever going to do|
with a salad-shooter?
And this copy of the Necronomicon. It's completely falling apart. Human-skin binding just is not durable. When I was younger, I'd summon the Dark Lord Cthulhu every weekend just about, but I just don't have the time any more. I ought to just put this thing on Ebay and be done with it.
And the alligators. They're cute when they're little, but they grow up so fast. And that Purina Alligator-Chow costs a fortune. Not to mention Mr. Sniffles has an allergy, so you got to buy him the gluten-free alligator chow that costs even more. And don't even get me started on cleaning the litter box! You tell yourself how great it will be when you've dug the moat for them, but deep down, you know you'll never get around to it. It's time to say, "Sorry, Smiley, Mr. Sniffles, I'm sending you off to live with a nice family in the country."
And a salad-shooter. What the hell am I ever going to do with a salad-shooter? How does this thing even work? I took it out of the box one time, and I think it's already missing a part.
I used to have a complete set of bone-saws, really nice, tungsten steel, top-of-the-line, but my friend Scott borrowed them and never gave them back. But you know what? I don't even want them back. You can keep them, Scott. Just one less thing to gather dust.
And then there's this Abyss. You can barely move around down here without bumping into it. When you stare into the Abyss, it stares into you, which is pretty cool at first, but after a while, it's like, so what? And what do I need to be staring into Abysses for? I already have Netflix. It's just going to be such a hassle dragging it up to the road.
But I guaran-flat-tee you, that if I leave it at the curb for one day, some sucker will come along and throw it in the back of his truck and take it home. Then it'll be his Abyss.
Well, he can have it.