–That’s what Nick said our ridealong would consist of–“Nothing but spiders and dead bodies.” I’ll be staying in the squad car, then. Perhaps I’ll teach myself to drive.
I know one way not to drive–we received a report of a guy driving and sticking his arms out of the car windows. Oddly, this apparently caused him to swerve.
Speaking of vehicles, we also received a report of a stolen “Corn Pro” trailer. I’m guessing it was stolen by professional corn. And what would corn need a trailer for? I’m guessing it would be loaded with spiders and dead bodies. Dead corn bodies, one hopes. Baby corn bodies, and lots of them–after all, the growing season is over.
Theoretically, I am not insane. But we received a report (sensing a theme here?) from a woman who identified herself as “dangerously mentally ill.” She said, “I heard an ad on the radio for the dangerously mentally ill, and figured if I was going to be mentally ill, I might as well be dangerously mentally ill.” Seems like sound reasoning to me. She offered as proof of danger that she had shot someone in the arm, shot someone else in the elevator and dropped a bunch of guns in there, and had stabbed her husband previously, but never got in trouble for it. No evidence of any of these acts was found, but that’s where the “mentally ill” part comes in.
WILL DO TRICKS FOR FOOD!
I didn’t say turn tricks. Calm down.
A certain beast, Nick by name, offered to obtain food for us tonight. On the way with same, he sent me a message, saying, “Check the cameras. Do you see me?” I’m not playing your silly game, I thought, so I just got up and opened the back door, but there was no one there. “Tell me what you see,” he insisted, so I grumpily got up again–after all, my food was being held hostage in the hands of a madman–and looked at the camera, reporting, with some irritation, that I still saw nothing. He responded, “That must mean I’m not there yet.” So, dear co-workers who were busier than I was at that moment (I was between car-vs.-deer accidents at the time), that is why I kept jumping up and down like a jack-in-the-box, which I understand is good for my health.
He came in, all eager to be praised for his cleverness, or smacked for his insolence–just generally desperate for attention of any kind –but he was sent empty away, because I’m never good at thinking up stuff on the spur of the moment.
My fortune cookie was an actual fortune! How often does that happen?:
–“You are about to receive a big compliment.” I’m still waiting.
“Dead Spider Bodies”–a great name for a rock band!
May I just observe that, if one includes the words “dead bodies” in a blog post, some of the suggested illustrations are very disturbing.