Roast the broomstick. Fiddle. Bury the bone.

Roast the broomstick. Fiddle. Bury the bone. Nookie. Makin' bacon. Hiding the bishop. Boom-boom.

The usual chores. The number of applicants for the position was incredible. 20,000 people applied to go to Antartica but only 3 responded to my job advert. Of the 3 applicants, one

was blind, one was deaf, & one was both blind & deaf but his resume stated that he could smell very well. The usual chores weren't what I was worried about though. I needed someone

with seeing-eye micro pigs that could attract women to my vicinity, but who was too blind to see how attractive those women would be. I can't compete with blind folks, they go for

the telephone but answer the iron. That explains the blind folks' weathered faces. But I want to go back to the seeing-eye micro pigs because that's how they make bacon bits.

Seeing-eye micro pigs are a creation of the blind folks' lab in New Jersey, where H. G. Wells "War Of The Worlds" was staged in 1939. It is no coincidence this blind folks' lab

is in the black. Blind accountancy paid very well. Assets like the seeing-eye micro pig kept them in play and as long as they were in play their stock price would churn & there for

the grace of God went I, leaping down Wall Street in my micro pig pajamas, so rich that no-one dared stop me. Bwahaha. Yes, I was golden, but soon the gold wore off and I found

That I was a scum bag broker who had no grace and realized I was Bulldozing the economy into a nightmarish oligarchy and storm of anarchism. I decided to donate to charity and pray