It’s Halloween and I should be fearing things like worms and poison, but instead I’m completely frIgHtenTend of losing my wallet, the brown bill buddy that contains my most important inanimate elements (except my jock strap, eh boys?).
On a normal day–one of those 1.5 poos, 3 meals, watch the trailer for John Candy’s Delirious again kinda days–you don’t even notice you have a wallet because it’s always there, like the prevalent hope that gravity will be dethroned as the force that dominates our physical world. Another example would be how you never stop and think that your face is technically all zits until one actually wriggles its way to the surface seeking the light of the moon.
I’ve been made more aware of my wally because last week I lost it for six hours, and in that six hours I couldn’t even think straight let alone follow through on a dare I was issued, which was to shoot a ham like a basketball into the CEO’s office toilet screaming out “PAY DAY, SON”.
Now that we’ve established today’s theme it’s time for…
Hey, that’s not real dust
What was that other stuff?
fresh. Go for pundits.
Back to you, Grant!