Yesterday, I was working on some writing stuff in Borders and found myself sitting two tables away from a crazy old man. He wasn't the type of crazy old man that shouts about aliens. He was the type of crazy old man that sits in Borders all day writing ten page letters to the editor about aliens in between offering people copies of his free book on how the Masons are run by the gays.
While I was there, he explained the following stuff to anyone listening, in the same mild tone of voice you might use to explain which flavor of ice cream you like best. I promise that I am not making this up nor even exaggerating for comedic effect. These are straight from his mouth to your screen:
I think we could all learn something from this crazy old man's ideas. Except the Hispanics (they're a little slow, apparently).
'We’re going to be in trouble!' Little Sister wailed, clutching her favorite book to her chest and sobbing. 'This isn’t fun like a story anymore!' But Big Sister was not listening, she was thinking. She grabbed Little Sister’s book from her and ran into town, yelling 'Help! A book made me and my sister hurt someone!'
I've been wanting to meet you all for the past few weeks, but I guess I cut an intimidating figure. I'm the new guy, with the cool job you've all surely been gossiping about. Yep, I'm the Lead Loremaster, and I'm here to enrich everything we do with much-needed lore.
The Daily Dirt serves as a column for all Something Awful frontpage writers to write about, well, whatever they feel like putting into the Daily Dirt!