Those silent movies were really something, weren’t they?
Yesterday, I attended a six-hour silent-film marathon. The films were modern, but the theater’s sound system was broken. The theater has a no-refund policy, so I stuck around.
Yesterday was another exciting day in workplaces across Shalampax. Friday, February 26, 2010 was National Bring Your Pet to Work Day here. Pets are illegal in Shalampax, and that is one of the few laws that is obeyed, so everyone took the day off work because they didn’t have a pet to bring in with them.
For some people, televangelists are the pinnacle of spirituality. These believers are glued to their sets whenever any of their favorite preacher superstars are on TV. And they dream of the day when they will be able to attend in person one of their hero’s shows—a day that is made ever distant by shoveling all of their cash to their beloved televangelists.
But, I ask you, how spiritual can these televangelists be when they spend most of their time shilling for dollars to pay for their enormous, luxurious cathedrals, their haute couture clothes, and their opulent executive jets and limousines?
OK, who was the bastard who told Manexposinghimself about my experiment yesterday, in which I decided to not post an article here in order to see if anyone of import noticed? I don’t know who it was, but someone told him. To say he was angry would be the understatement of the century.
As soon as he heard that I hadn’t posted, he stormed over to my apartment and let himself in with a passkey that I didn’t know he had. As it happens, I was in the bathroom with a porn magazine in my left hand and never mind what in my right hand.
Having a dual role here—both a regular columnist and the editor—might sound like a real bummer, and it is, but it has it’s compensations. For example, one of the truly great things about being the editor of Shalampax Speaks, is that I get to decide what gets published here each day. And what is being published here today is absolutely nothing.
I know what you are thinking, “everything that all of you people write is worth absolutely nothing.” That may be so, but this time I don’t mean that today’s post will, as usual, be totally worthless. I mean that absolutely nothing will appear here.
Last year, Discardedshoelace, a nincompoop from way back, set himself up in business as a private investigator. Yesterday, he formally declared bankruptcy and closed his firm due to a lack of customers.
Despite trying hard to win business, Discardedshoelace was surprised to learn how few people wanted him to investigate their private parts.
