Friday, August 20, 2004

Hey there, this is kool keith earth x version’s pseudo artificial great grandmother, assigned back in aught seventy three by that fake corporation. What’s my name? None of your goddamm business. I’m like, what, 115 years old? I forget. Some of my circuits are a little fried. It happens. Just know that mr. fizzle stick or whatever he calls himself paid off my tab at bennigans and plus threw in some matlock dvd’s so I am good to go and will discuss just about anything you have to wonder about.

How could I betray keith aka Alfred aka joe aka my own flesh & blood like this? Well, he’s an ungrateful ingrate anyway. I mean, where do you think he got his gift of gab? I had to trudge through 3 miles of snowbanks just to even look at a picture of a camel in the store window at Macy’s, and he’s got his pocket computers and fancy wristwatches with the moving hands and all that other malarkey, and I can’t even plug in for a recharge without a chevron card anymore, or at least a letter from Doctor Luthor.

Who do you think taught the kid to talk for christ’s sake? You think his folks had time? They were buried under paperwork from the center for disease control, whut with all the radiation after he developed the 5th nipple. So they're knee deep in I-34 forms and saliva gland tests, the grandparents are off cruising in Majorca or God knows where, and voila! lucky me, I’m watching junior, who for reasons unbeknownst, possibly some good lawyers or said results of aforementioned form transcribing, escaped the clutches of the lab geeks, and, I’m telling you, not a clean situation. The kid could crap through a lead enforced door whut which superman couldn’t see through, that’s the kind of circumstance we had here going on in the peaceful town of the fake name I’ll give, say, uh, Spooner.

Anyway, it’s time for my medication. Thanks for the quick cash Mr. Fisk, you large and in charge pile of masculinity you, and Keith, wherever you are, at least drink your ovaltine. If I didn’t teach you anything else, make an old woman proud and digest your processed glucose. Mmmkay? Alrighty then.