Hello Kitty Shaft
Who’s the cat who won’t cop out
When second-rate parkour breaks out?
Hello Kitty Shaft!
Can you dig it?
They say Hello Kitty Shaft is a bad mother…
SHUT UP AND GET OFF THE FENCE!
But I’m talkin’ about Hello Kitty Shaft
Then we can dig it!
He’s a complicated man
But no one understands him but his racquet
Hello Kitty Shaft!
Damn right
I need this guy to be my plumber. No more Lo-Flo toilets for me. Get him on the job for a couple days, and you’d have to call the Sewer Department and tell them to evacuate (no pun intended) before you flushed the toilet. The sink would have three knobs: Hot, Cold, and some sort of OMG. Every room would have hot and cold running potato chips. The dishwasher would process uranium. It would be glorious.
And when he was finished, I’d double his pay if he’d read Hop On Pop to me.
Ah, the Sonny Bono school of skiing. Like most things on the Borderline Sociopathic Blog For Boys, it’s a lot of fun — until it isn’t.
[Thanks to Gerard at American Digest for sending that one along]
You know, Canada’s nice. Too nice, according to Canadians, but they’re just being, well, too nice about the whole thing. They don’t want you to feel bad about how nice they are. That wouldn’t be nice. The British Isles are fairly pleasant. They have nuclear weapons, but I never get the impression they’d use them or anything. They’re like the hood ornament on a Jaguar. It doesn’t matter what’s on the hood, because the car is always in the shop. I think Finnish people are nice, or would be, at least, if they would answer a question without staring at their shoes. Australians are a blast, of course. I think it’s all the Foster’s and everything being poisonous in their country that makes them so jolly. Why be glum if even the fuzzy, cute animals might drop you where you stand? The orchestra played at a 12 degee pitch on the Titanic, didn’t it? Might as well; it’s less work than panicking.
No, the US is not the greatest thing in the history of ever because we’re all nice, or fun, or polite, or smart, or salubrious, or even interesting. We’re the Greatest thing in the history of ever because we spent $25 billion just so we could do donuts on Old Man Moon’s lawn.
The rest of our Federal budget? We wasted it.