He was known variously as a deep thinker,

He was known variously as a deep thinker, a risk taker, a loser. The kinda guy to pass out on a sea cliff with an empty nitrous balloon in one hand & his underwear in the other.

He would sit at the bar surrounded by hipsters and light the fringe from the cuffs of his Levis with a Bic lighter. He slammed Jagers, "I don't get drunk, just filoshiphical."

Miranda Concord swept in to assuage him. "Don't worry, Daddy-Oh! -- you are not alone. We're so out we're in!" Her platinum aura disturbed his 501 buttons, but the bar hipsters

simply shifted their weight to their other foot & kept drinking with unconcious self-consciousness, as hipsters are apt to do. He adjusted his buttons & peered into Miranda' s

feverish mind, only to find it incredibly empty. He saw that Miranda had all the trappings of the stereotypical hipster in place. Holding a slightly crunched can of Pabst Blue Ribb

on was like winning a miniature golf tournament. There was some skill involved, but it was mostly stupid. But that's why he needed to get Miranda in his life. He was a loser at hea

instead of the expected corpse of the Lieutenant Governor. Miranda turned as white as the clouds which whispered above her, as if gossiping, exchanging secrets. "Dead husband." The

whispering clouds offered their commiserations but Miranda was inconsolable and joined a sect of Buddhist nuns above the clouds in a monastery in Tibet. She wore widow's weeds unti

l the Tru-Green man showed up, spraying his weed killer all over her. Miranda's inner flowers then bloomed & she ran away from the monastery with the Tru-Green man & lived happily.