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).
Hows about you, me, and five uncomfortable minutes in my basement apartment next to the dusty Christmas tree that's still up from my last visit with my estranged children.
The Upper Kitchen Cabinet Where Your Roommate Keeps His Food: You’ll 'need the footstool' to reach your roommate’s 'fine selection' of 'stale cereal,' but he'll never notice if 'only a little is missing from each box.' Feel less guilty by reminding yourself that Jeff 'acts weird around your girlfriend,' and always 'asks about her.' What a 'creep.'
This ain't your daddy's globe...! .... or is it?!
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