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So, I went to get the last piece of pizza out of the fridge and reheat it, and it started talking to me. Threatening me, really. It wasn't actually the pizza, of course; it's only been in there since yesterday. There's this ancient pastrami sandwich I'd forgotten about, and it turns out, it's not only sentient (or at least it does a good impression of a scary, angry 5-year-old, except without the ability to throw books at you), but it's learned a bit of ventriloquism.
Someone want to loan me some really strong gloves for when I kick this one out? And does anyone know of an animal shelter that might take pastrami sandwiches? It's awfully distressing to think of having the trash shout imprecations at you as you wheel it to the curb....
Although if it gets on the subject of religion again, I may be willing to tolerate the embarrassment and the looks from my neighbors. There's a limit to what I'll tolerate from lunch meat and wheat bread, no matter how far evolved or devolved.
(Anyone confused? Good! See Rabbit Hole Day, for further amusement and confusion.)
Someone want to loan me some really strong gloves for when I kick this one out? And does anyone know of an animal shelter that might take pastrami sandwiches? It's awfully distressing to think of having the trash shout imprecations at you as you wheel it to the curb....
Although if it gets on the subject of religion again, I may be willing to tolerate the embarrassment and the looks from my neighbors. There's a limit to what I'll tolerate from lunch meat and wheat bread, no matter how far evolved or devolved.
(Anyone confused? Good! See Rabbit Hole Day, for further amusement and confusion.)