THESE THINGS TALK?

"It's not fair!  The Friday before Easter gets called Good Friday, the Sunday is Easter Sunday, and the Monday after Easter is Easter Monday.  Nothing special about me, the Saturday before Easter.  Don't I deserve some special title other than Saturday?

 "Some have tried calling me Easter Eve, Holy Saturday, and Great Saturday, but these names never stuck.  I do not want to be called Good Saturday because that name belongs to Friday.  Easter Saturday is the Saturday following Easter and not me.

"Sacred Saturday has a nice sound to it.  How about it, people?  How about calling the Saturday before Easter Sacred Saturday?"

***

"I am Advertising.  I come at you in all forms.  My goal is to convince you to part with your money because doing so will make you happy.  I can't believe how some of you buy the stuff I say about things.  Do you really think things can make you happy?"

***

"I am Pizza.  Often I get cheesed off at you people for no reason in particular.  Just thought I'd tell you that."

***

 "As Tire, I often get tired.  But things go around and my fatigue rolls away."

***

"I am Hearing Aid . . .   What?  Speak up!  I can't hear you."

***

"How frustrating!  I want to  come out, but I don't know how.  I am Closet.  How does a closet come out?"

***

"I am Road.  I'm glad people cross me because it protects me from vampires."

***

I am Stone.  There is nothing more to say today, this Sacred Saturday.

 

MY SHORT ATTENTION SP-

I don't know why my attention span is short.   I am six feet tall and do not like watching golf.  I live near some electrical equipment.  They say some people are sensitive to electrical energy.  I believe I am in line for a promotion at work.  I passed all the promotional exams including the anal probe performed by the aliens during a staff meeting.  The anal probe affected my brain and this is the cause for all the rain.

But rain is good.  It makes things grow -- especially in my closet where no monsters live.  Monsters used to live in my closet when I was younger, but they moved out as I aged the cheese I made.  Homemade cheese tastes better than the potatoes I bought at the gas station.

And what about those gas prices?  They are higher than the flying saucer the aliens brought to the staff meeting.  The aliens promised me a promotion at work if I did not talk about people sensitive to electrical cheese aged in monsters who live in closets.

So that is why my attention span is -- Look!  It's the end of my blog!