Hoo-boy, it’s hot in here again. Marvin (my personal robot assistant)! Open a window. No, not with a chair. You don’t open windows by tossing metal chairs through…. HEY!
This is not good, folks. Marvin is doing the renegade robot from Mars bit again. It must be an errant line of code somewhere in his reams of programming. Every once in a while he gets ornery… I mean SUPER ornery. Starts breaking things, running things over, insulting people (including anti-Lincoln, who’s sensitive, you know) and otherwise causing mayhem. I suppose I should count myself lucky that we’re not on some interstellar tour with this happening. Living with a mechanical nutjob is one thing; sharing a cramped spacecraft with one is quite another. I don’t have to tell you that…. HEY! PUT THAT DOWN! THAT’S THE ONLY ONE OF THOSE WE’VE GOT LEFT, YOU DOLT!
Right … so much for our last rotating clay bust of Roy Orbison (with glasses a slightly darker shade of gray). Very discouraging. As if such vandalism isn’t bad enough, I think it was Marvin who started circulating nasty stories about me in the press. Or maybe it’s a coincidence – I have to think there’s SOMEONE else out there with the name Joe Perry. It’s a big universe, after all. In any case, yesterday, I’m sitting here minding my own freaking business. I open up the newspaper, and some dude named Tyler is trash talking my ass. I quote the Associated Press:
In an interview with Rolling Stone, Tyler says he and Joe Perry did drugs together in 2008 after years of sobriety …. Tyler says Perry was so impaired by snorting prescription pills, he couldn’t even play his instrument.
Okay, three things. One, I don’t know anybody named Tyler, so this is obviously a contrivance by a disgruntled robot (probably Marvin). Two, I resent the suggestion that drugs are making it so I can’t play my instrument. Many would say I can’t play my instrument even without the drugs. And finally…. how the hell did they know I’m sober? Are they hiding in my refrigerator? In my medicine cabinet? Is there no such thing as privacy anymore?!
Whoa, my apologies. I need to get out of this abandoned hammer mill a bit more. (It is a little musty in here.)
over the years are wildly unpopular. The current crop of GOP congresspeople represent an odious distillation of his most extremist positions. What’s not to hate?
Yes, more strife here at the abandoned Cheney Hammer Mill, place of our birth, land of our fathers, and all the rest of it. What is Big Green up to this week? Gasping. Lots of gasping. As some of you may know (and many, I’m sure, don’t), May is the time of year when mad scientists tend to roll out all of their new world-destroying experiments. It’s in anticipation of the upcoming CrazyCom Mad Science Convention they hold in Madagascar every August. Everybody wants to show boat the new death ray, the improved zip gun, the killer robot, now with more sparks. Kind of a pissing match for high-tech cranks. Attend at your own risk. (The last one ended badly, I hear.)