You ever notice something weird over there? In the distance like? Balls of fire and whistling through the trees, strange chirps when you pick up the phone? You notice that the cows don’t come home anymore, and the cats wail like they’re in heat but we had them all neutered so they shouldn’t be all riled like that? You notice that no one’s come in from the town in a while and the teevee ain’t got no new episodes of the Simpsons? You think maybe something’s going on that we might should know about?
I just feel like there’s something we’re not seeing over here. Like the whole world is in on a secret and forgot to tell us.
Well maybe we’re not supposed to know. None of our business. Keep on walking and don’t look too long in the trees, I always say.
You ever think that maybe you should start paying more attention to your environments–that maybe if you glanced down once in a while before stepping in a bear trap, you’d still have both your legs? It ain’t no wonder Martha left you, you dragging your stupid ass over the lawn like a broken pinata, all blood and tendons leaking over the yard and you screaming that there wudn’t no way people was bear hunting in the spring and it wasn’t your fault. Maybe that excuse worked the first time but most people, they learn from an experience like that.
Effen-a, Bob. Effen-a.
You saying maybe I should call Martha?