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Wednesday, January 28, 2004


My wife brought home the Weekly World News, from which I discovered that not only is there an all-nude town in New Hampshire (who do you suppose they voted for, I wonder?) and that Titanic survivors were found frozen, but alive, but that there's a new "Homeland Security Alert: Tiny Terrorists Disguised as Garden Gnomes!"

"Man," I said to her, "I wish I lived a life as exciting as this! I'd create a Weekly World Blog!"

"As exciting as what?" K asked, patting our son Bat-Boy on the head.

"As exciting as in the Weekly World News!" I paused to glance out the window at the flying saucer landing in our back yard. "Think of all I could write about!"

K shrugged, and our pet land shark bit her left arm off. "You'd just write about being depressed as usual."

"Yeah," I admitted, "I would," and spontaneously combusted.

"Our life is plenty exciting enough," K said as she spread Miracle Gro where her missing limb was.

My spirit possessed the Brie cheese in the refrigerator. "You can say that again!" I shouted (the fridge door was closed). "Remember the dead rat under the dishwasher?"

K nodded sagely. "And how it spoke the complete works of William Shakespeare?"

"Those were good times!" I had possessed the oranges by this time and amused myself by drawing the Virgin Mary on my husk.

K, meanwhile, was growing three new arms. The doorbell rang, and she used one of them to open the door. We recognized our neighbor immediately. "President Kennedy!" K said. "What a nice surprise! Need another cup of sugar?"

The former President nodded, and said, "Ask not what coffee is like without it!" We all laughed heartily, and a thousand tiny cameras recorded this information and transimitted it to the Illuminati. (I know because I was possessing one of them.)

After Jack had left, we settled down for a nice evening of reality television and mind control. Our dog barked, and when we asked him what was wrong, he seemed confused, and said, "I think it was Bigfoot, but it might have just been Joe Lieberman." We smiled--our superintelligent, genetically altered puppy was so cute.

As we settled into bed (in my case, literally--although I had to be satisfied with possessing only the box spring), I thought I saw a movement out the window. I checked the front yard. For a second, I thought our garden gnome moved--but it was only my imagination, surely.

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