Couch coma

It all hit me today. I watched enough bad T.V. to rob my brain of all independent thought.

Symbiotic relationships--like remoras and sharks--are fascinating to me. I like picking out who the "remora" is and the "shark" in any given relationship. My truck needs a remora. That would be awesome. I would be going down the freeway with a few of them stuck to my truck, cleaning all the foreign debris that collects on it. While we are talking around the wishing well, it would also be nice if our cars fed off of bugs in the air like a whale does with krill. No pollution or trips to the pump, just free energy and less mosquito bites.

I have come to the conclusion why the sasquatch gives off such a horrible smell: skunk lovers. Since the best kook psuedoscientists have produced enough hardcore speculation as to their numbers (3,500) it must get lonely out there for a hairy and horny biped--much like a long-haul trucker. Eyewitnesses testify that a horrible smell accompanies the beast--a smell that has nothing to do with the body odor that comes from a large man in a yak hair covered, latex gorilla suit. No, the sasquatch tides themselves over with the odd skunk here and there with a behavior that is known as "misting" in cryptozoological circles. I do not wish to get into the mechanics of such, but I will just say that the natives of this country did not call the sasquatch "skunk ape" for nothing.

Okay, that is enough nonsense for tonight.