It started with eating my own fingers and

terds. I used to eat junk, but thanks to this new kind of finger food (self-cannibalistically speaking), they look so organic. With my fingerless hands, I proudly point at them so

people will pick up stuff for me. My fingerless hands turned into a real source of pain because my daughter makes fun of me. She says, "Daddy get on the monkey bars" but she knows

my metal hooks clanking sounds embarrass me. The other parents stare like I'm a freak. I gave up my job as stenographer & joined the circus. My daughter's jeers turned to cheers

and her fears turned to tears when one of my hooks got tangled and severed the tightrope I was walking. The crowed gasped. I plunged to my imminent certain unavoidable demise. But

as my life passed before my eyes my super "iron man like" strength kicked in and I held on to one end of the tight rope with my one good hand. I was dangling fifty

feet above ground off the edge of that cliff from where I thought I should push my car to collect insurance...KARMA REALLY IS A BITCH!

I don't believe in Karma because I'm not a believer. No, I'm a Belieber. You may think I deserve to be thrown off a cliff. It is true I have lemming attributes in my willingness to

be thrown off cliffs, etc - but then again, that is hardly surprising since my grandmother actually was a lemming, thus making me a quarter lemming overall (quemming). Surprised?

No, not really. Not in these days & these times. Unusual matings happen all the time. It's only a matter of time before we all devolve into one single quemming blob of life.