A column blocked the doorway from which I wished to exit this morning. It was only two inches thick, but was comprised of some sort of petroleum jelly and had the look of a never ending stalactite,(or stalagmite, depending on which end you looked at first). It would have been easy to walk around, except that to the right of the column was a Banana Republic with Nuclear capabilities. To the left of the column sat Morrissey, eating a steak.
The only logical thing to do was to step right through the middle of the column and hope for the best, which I did. I had to wipe away some of the vaselinesque substance from the column and then had to shake off, rather like an old hound dog, equal parts danger and despair.
And so shake and wipe I did. All due to the inspiration that I would soon be posting to you.
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