Let's float this and see if it sticks!

 

It's not uncommon for someone in my puffball league to wax philosophic in order to explain the rather remarkable changes observed in the master category of local clump-like structures. We've taken to giving them control names and even conferring honorary sentience. All but ignored is the fact that I no longer seek to hide my proclivities from an independent commission of inchoate busybodies. Because yes, it's all I can do to enforce a scheme of bonded stripes, which, when proper coloring is applied will render our own softer touches as somehow miraculous in the short run. At longer time horizons, anyone who commands the respect of an entire cohort of industrial sales representatives can't have it both ways, however much they may want to skip to a very revealing function. To say that I've had it up to 'here', wouldn't only be untrue, it would also be incredibly hurtful. And this after fourteen years of unchecked service to Our Lady of Ministry. The nerve!

On this or any other day, as I gavel in the proceedings from my mountaintop retreat, it occurs to me that solidified materials are an increasing challenge for our younger colleagues. On the rare occasions when their whining reaches an ungrounded pitch, I will make the 'supreme sacrifice' and remove an imaginary object from a pleated cape. And this will be directly in front of a single stationary camera so that any charges of misfeasance will render the accuser into a salvific meat product for which his remaining iron will do the 'dirty deed'. My wife and I have decided to move our operation to the Southern coast of the Northern-most of the Maldive Islands. From there we will direct a truly vacant series of unbastioned studio product. I have it in writing that even the lowliest camper, if he or she should find the correct melody to intone, will be invited onto the stage and charged with multiple counts of aggravated perfidy. During all my years at the Directorate, I can't remember a single time when this or that stalwart had the coonies to jump over a desk at the noon hour to retrieve the last removable holder from the grip of a reliably cooperative ejection specialist any time soon. For what it's worth, it's still hard for me to believe that you are mentally lying to yourself even as you read this.

It's no secret that if even one of us is asked to live for a month or two without a carbon shielding apparatus, that will be the last time that any of our many hands will be wired for sound. Another sore point revolves around my relationship with the soon-to-be former Ms. Debra Fischer. But for her many perceptual onslaughts, those who peer playfully and without guile through unanticipated openings, could, even now, be risking life and limb to foretell an unexpected result of a not very well known, yet decisive, contretemps. I've asked only one person to arrive not only in one piece, but also in one place. From which we are sure any crappy plans can be crushed in a matter of months, if not years. It goes to show the rest of them what can be boastfully accomplished when working together becomes just another idle threat formation diatribe. I take it that some of you reading this are wondering where you, in fact, fit in. If that's the case, I'd go out of my way to have you processed in less than a day. Beyond that. what we need to hear is how you intend to make our lives and work both more challenging and more productive by half. With all that out of the way, I intend to take you by the hand and lead you through an underground passage so that you can see for yourself that we mean no harm. At least not until we have good reason to believe that you may have dual loyalties. Does this sound like something you'd be interested in getting involved with for the long run? Don't lie.

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