My girlfriend woke me up the other day by gently brushing her Anna Nicoles across my face. "Good Morning, Honey." "You're all sweet and clean!" "I just showered. Is this a nice way to wake up?" "By that I didn't mean to imply that my former girlfriends were not sweet or clean." I had just made a Bidenesque remark that required immediate clarification. "You know what, Honey? You're not only sweet and clean. You don't have a gold tooth in your mouth, and by that I don't mean to imply that my former girlfriends did or did not have gold teeth in their mouths." "You always have to bring up your old girlfriends. I'm tired of hearing about them." "Well I have to say, Honey, you pull the plow better than all of them put together."
I drifted back to sleep. "There's a pterodactyl in my ranunculus. What are you doing?" my Grandmother said. "Just putting the nosebag on the horse," said my Grandfather. "Is that the horse you bought in Sparta?" "Yeah" "Well you better do something about that bovine flatulence. A cloud is settling over the house. It's not healthy, and, furthermore, it's contributing to global warming!" "Well, equine flatulence is a bigger contributor. But that problem will be solved as soon as the automobile comes in and we get all these horses off the road." My Grandfather did eventually solve the problem of bovine flatulence. Every night he taped plastic bags to all the cows' rumps in his barn, and then in the morning he transfered the methane gas to a sealed container and marketed it to the City of Newark for use in their gaslamp district. He had plans to expand to Baltimore and New Orleans, but then electricity came in and sales went flatulent.
But he had a talented horse. Once he bet a man that his horse could fart halfway across the Delaware River. This feat prompted Luther Hill, the chief agronomist and poet laureate of Sussex County, to compose the following poem:
"There was a young horse from Sparta.
Who was a prodigious fatwa.
He could faht everything from 'God Save the King'
To Beethoven's 'Moonlight Sonarter.'"
But in all seriousness, true scientific measurements of global warming should take into account the decrease in greenhouse gas emissions due to the diminution of equine flatulence due to the fact that there are less horses on the road these days. However, there is a concomitant increase in bovine flatulence due to the fact that there is an increase of cars on the road all heading for McDonald's to purchase an Old Dead Cow Burger. Consequently, McDonald's has seen to it that there is an increase in bovine pregnancy and a build up of herds all over the world. Now all this has to be taken into account when computing the amount of greenhouse gas emissions. It's inconvenient, but true. What's needed is an AlGorithm to take into account the carbon dioxide emitted from automobile tailpipes minus the base line equine methane emissions due to flatulence plus the increased bovine emissions due to McDonald's Old Dead Cow Burgers. Bear in mind that methane is 20 times as powerful as carbon dioxide in terms of its greenhouse gas effects and there you have it.
"Wake up. Wake up," said my girlfriend. "It's time to go." My girlfriend's name is Judy so now I am living in the era of Judyism. When I was going with Natsy, I had to live under Natsyism. It was much more difficult. "What are you doing today? Jumping in and out of chalk pavement pictures?" "No, Honey, everything I do is carefully planned. I think I need a bit of social interaction." "Well, look at your hair! It looks like a Hillbilly Who's Hairdo Gone Haywire!"
Well, come to think of it, the Whos are having a Whobilation down in the Gaslamp District. Maybe I'll check it out. Those Whos ... they're so sanctimonious and politically correct. They don't think any greenhouse gas comes out of the tailpipes of their Whomobiles! And then they blame me, the Grinch, and my dog, Max, for CANINE FLATULENCE!
But I have a wonderful idea ... a wonderful, terrible idea ... a terrible, terrible grinchy idea. I'll start my own video production company. And my first video - Da. Dahhh! - "Whos Gone Haywire!" I know I can get those Who girls to flash their booties. Flash their BOOTAY!! Hah! Where's my videocam? I'm heading for the Greenhouse Gaslamp for a little social interaction. Better take some beads for Cindy Lou.
"Yeah, but you love me anyway."
California Free Press