Attention K-Mart Shoppers…
…Wal-Mart shoppers, Target shoppers, Sears, Penney's, Lowes, Staples, Toys-R-Us, Pet Smart shoppers and anyone else who feels the need to spend hours racing around the track otherwise known as the mall parking lot.
Listen up you Geritol geriatrics in Grand Marquis, cell-phone mamas in Caravans, and daddy dufusses in Durangos. That vintage VW Beetle you see headed toward you is not the latest Mattel/Fisher-Price "Wee-One Wheels." You can not shove it aside, crowd it into a corner, or run over it without consequences. It comes with a real driver (plus canine sidekick) who is probably more sneaky, more slippery, and, yes, smarter than you. (I know I am.) We can go around, between, and maybe under you (although AHM resisted exploring that option). We can slide into places your butt wouldn't fit in, and no amount of spittin', swearin', and horn-blowin' is gonna' alter our course toward that open space three slots from the front door. Trust me on this--you don't want to get between this canine boy and his chew toy.
And to all those pickup pappys cruisin' the freeway… Yes, that same vintage Bug with four-on-the-floor can pass you--goin' 70--uphill--especially if it's driven by a woman whose ex- was a Formula One race driver. Resist the tobacco chaw-and-testosterone urge to roar past at 110 mph 'cause AHM knows where the speed traps are--and you just got suckered.
He, he, he--Merry Christmas…
posted by Harrison at 12:54 PM
Listen up you Geritol geriatrics in Grand Marquis, cell-phone mamas in Caravans, and daddy dufusses in Durangos. That vintage VW Beetle you see headed toward you is not the latest Mattel/Fisher-Price "Wee-One Wheels." You can not shove it aside, crowd it into a corner, or run over it without consequences. It comes with a real driver (plus canine sidekick) who is probably more sneaky, more slippery, and, yes, smarter than you. (I know I am.) We can go around, between, and maybe under you (although AHM resisted exploring that option). We can slide into places your butt wouldn't fit in, and no amount of spittin', swearin', and horn-blowin' is gonna' alter our course toward that open space three slots from the front door. Trust me on this--you don't want to get between this canine boy and his chew toy.
And to all those pickup pappys cruisin' the freeway… Yes, that same vintage Bug with four-on-the-floor can pass you--goin' 70--uphill--especially if it's driven by a woman whose ex- was a Formula One race driver. Resist the tobacco chaw-and-testosterone urge to roar past at 110 mph 'cause AHM knows where the speed traps are--and you just got suckered.
He, he, he--Merry Christmas…
posted by Harrison at 12:54 PM
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