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Wednesday, May 12, 2004
The bus is stopped in the middle of the tunnel. We have started wonderin if somethin is wrong.
"Maybe the bus is dead," I says. "The bus is not dead," says Giblets. "It is insolent and stupid and smelly and bad." "It is a bad bus," I says. "It is a very bad bus," says Giblets. "It very poorly represents the Platonic ideal of Bus," I says. "Why didnt we take the plane, the plane is far superior to the bus," says Giblets. "Because we are poor," I says. "We are a poor Fafnir and Giblets and are consigned to the bus." "There are children on this bus," says Giblets. "Screaming children," I says. "Giblets hates children," says Giblets. "I fear children," I says, "because of their sharp sharp teeth." "Children are just like adults," says Giblets, "Only smaller and more stupid and smelly and bad." "Why didnt we take the train, the train is far superior to the bus," says Giblets. "We will live with bus-regret for all our lives," I says, and it is true. The bus is still stopped in the middle of a tunnel. Everyone figures somethin is probably wrong.
posted by fafnir at 11:35 PM
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