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12:28 p.m. - 2002-06-17
Who wouldn't want an un-sharp porcupine at home?
There is that moment when I’m drifting off to sleep that gives my mind the freedom to dance between the dream world and the physical world. This is when I get all my best ideas. I can never tell if they are really as great as I think they are at the time because I have no way to record them. Sure I could wake up and jot them down, but I am a fucker, and afraid that if given the chance to use a pen I’ll wake up with an inky pencil thin mustache administered to my own grill.

This is why I wish I were a narcoleptic insomniac. I’d be a millionaire by now if I could just harness that period of brain activity and somehow develop the amazing products that would result. They could hook me up to some sort of device and the world’s problems would be solved. Self-cleaning laundry. Vegi-dogs with the mustard already inside. Porcupines bred with dull quills for pets.


There is a store near my house that boasts the sale of “antiques, junktiques and funktiques”. Today I plan to use my tremendous sleuthing skills to nail down the exact definition of a funktique by example. I’ll report.


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