I don’t know about you, but I don’t have to move a Model T to work on my 1960 Plymouth Fury rebuild. Then again, I have to move seven bicycles to get at the lawn mower. It’s not useful to use me as a yardstick for auto collection or workshop setup. Cold War Motors up there in America’s hat is a much better guide to how to turn your property into the most interesting junkyard in existence.
I wonder if I could use one of these to capture a girlfriend. I’m not sure what to bait it with. Probably shoe store coupons. If all else fails, I’d make a little shrine in the center covered in Starbucks cups, Häagen-Dazs, and mixed drinks that taste like Zima dumped in a sugar bowl.
Meh. Perhaps capturing wild hogs isn’t the same as capturing a suitable mate. While it’s true that they both travel in packs and will devour your bait in minutes if you aren’t careful, potential girlfriends can usually tell when they’re walking into a trap. I’ve found that a giant cage swinging overhead is a dead giveaway, so I’ve learned to be more shrewd. I tell them, “If I were you, I wouldn’t go into this trap.” For some reason, it works twice as well if you can get their father to tell them not to go into the trap.
I doubt the same technique will work on feral hogs because they don’t really get reverse psychology.
The UFO guy is my hero. Not for any of the obvious reasons — I just kind of like him. He’s a bit “off,” and he’s not afraid to show it. That’s a quality I admire in people. I know a fellow who looks a bit like UFO guy and talks a bit like UFO guy. He’s a barrel of monkeys by all accounts, and he’s a very good friend of mine. It’s my considered opinion that everyone should have a UFO friend. If the greys ever invade you want a long-haired psycho on your side who’ll know exactly what to do when they bust out the probes. It’s why Scooby Doo has Shaggy. There’s a man who knows his way around a probe. Err — I mean, he’s probably done a lot of research. I phrased that badly.
Anyways, my UFO guy friend is a constant source of amusement, because I never know what novel ideas he’s going to send my way. He’s like every episode of the X-Files rolled into one person. I mean, I don’t believe anything he says, but it’s fun to listen and egg him on. He could be the twitchy stoner in my crime-solving dream team. Now I need to find a nerdy girl, a jock, a hot chick, a token ethnic hire, and a sweet van. I can be mission control, because I really don’t want to go outside — or put on pants.
Ah. Blissfully free of bad soundtrack music. A camera pointed in the correct direction, and oriented properly. The video is long enough to get a real sense of what’s going on, but not overlong, and packed with pointless filler. And if you were wondering what happens after you land, wonder no more. They park the thing, too. It’s glorious.