They say home is where the heart is. I keep

They say home is where the heart is. I keep mine under the floorboards. Late at night, I can still hear it beating...

That fucking raven keeps getting in through the window & pecking at the floorboards, so I decided to build a balloon to scare off the birds and ask those Frenchy detectives how to

pony and braided her manes. Then I decided I deserved a bigger pet, so I went to the pound and got a Great Dane. He was the size of a cow and had black and white spots to match.

When I got him home I was in udder disbelieve when he mooed the mailman. My great Dane also chewed cud & spat green churly mounds to mark territory. But when he said "Jeg elsker di

g", I knew that I had found my match. Why would I even fight it? I mean there are laws against this sort of thing but this is LOVE, this is LOVE LOVE LOVE, what I'm feelin'

". The judge, however, was not impressed with my argument, and sentenced me to 2 years hard labor on a penal asteroid in the Denobian cluster, where my only relief would be to

have a letter from home once a year. I worked at night breaking Denobian rocks under strange stars. After my 5 year sentence ended I decided to stay on the asteroid to start a rock

band, "Taken for Granite" with a few other ex-cons. Our angst-driven music filled the galaxies. Our audiences were alienated teenagers. We were universal stars! Our asteroid

sized drummer looked down upon us, and demanded that we carve him some drum sticks out of full grown red cedar tree trunks. My acid trip ended 6 hours later in the ICU.