It's a mad, mad, mad, mad, mad, mad scientist

It's a mad, mad, mad, mad, mad, mad scientist who creates a giant robot to defend the world against the Asian Indians because he thinks they're all hippies.

What the world needs is a slightly irate scientist who just wants to take over the world in smaller chunks, like the neighbors next door who BBQ at all hours of the night. His plan

apparently, was to ramp up from slight annoyances to full-blown aggravations until I moved away and he'd start squatting on my land. Pretty soon, if things kept going the way they

were my cockles were going to get steamed. Nothing chaps my hide more than having my hand used for furniture. It really makes my blood boil.

I don't mind my hand being used as a condiment. Or a tea cosy. Or a pressure cooker. But use it as an occasional table and YOU WILL FEEL MY WRATH. There... I just kicked the cat

. Jane watched the cat hair fly, then handed me her Coke. "Just hold this for me for a sec," she said. I took it & then realized she'd tricked me. My hand WAS an occasional table.

My eyes widened and my mouth opened to receive any incoming objects. I ended up choking on the flying cat hair. My occasional table hand tipped upward and Jane's Coke slid onto the

dance floor. This was my shot, and I knew it. I ran up to the stage grabbed the microphone and belted out "Evacuate the Dancefloor!" and pointed to the spilled soda. No one moved.

blabbering...Nothing that an aspirin or two couldn't solve.Tomorrow wold be another day,but it was past midnight already.Now what?