They should be forced to walk the gangnam plank!
Ever feel like your exact lookalike is leading a large crowd
in the latest popular dance craze? Well, it’s a phenomenon known as
DoppelGängnam Style, and it’s a reminder that there are very few fine lines
anymore, anywhere, at all. Have you ever sat down to a warm, delicious bowl of
Chili Con Carne? Now there’s Chili Con Carny, or a bowl of chili to be consumed
alongside someone who operates a grab booth at the funfair. Then, the two of you
go for drinks, and your companion orders an Irish Carbuncle. Irish carbombs, she
says, remind her of Mel Tormé, and Mel Tormé reminds her of tiptoeing through a
Chuck E. Cheese. In any event, I can’t wait to watch PSI: Miami—the show in
which crimes against proper inflation are investigated. The song, “Wheat No
Butter”, plays in the background, and the song, as you may imagine, describes a
very different world of vice. A world in which Febreze w/Hint of Foreclosure is
vended, a world in which Febreze w/Hint of Stalin is vended, a world in which
Febreze w/Hint of Cholesterol is vended. There is no Harveys Bristol Cream in this vision, and there’s
no Brylcreem, either, but there is Harveys Brylcreem, even as Harvey’s any old Harvey,
and his Brylcreem’s a recipe handed down from bloke to bloke. The exotic
entertainers at The Beef Brothel sure do make a mean consommé but the keyword—beef—you
know, refers to a different kind of gripe. Such as: Who Let the Dogs Out? I
mean, that’s not the relevant question. You’ve let the dogs out, I’ve let the
dogs out, we’ve even thrown the dogs a squeaky Kong, but that’s not the
question, no, the question is: Who’s been screwing the pooches after they’ve been
let out? Because the pooches are coming home mighty uncooperative, they won’t
sit, stay, roll over, etc., and they have hoity toity looks on their faces, as
if to say, Hey: Dawg: What happens in the Hedge stays in the Hedge!
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