The Ice Cream TruckThe second vehicle I ever owned was an ice cream truck.
I had bought it from a failed clown. He never made it big in the clown business. He was a good clown, very funny and talented, but his name was not a good choice for a clown. I guess I'll never understand why he called himself Devil O'Scabby. I always told him that he should have gone with his given name, Bubbles McFunsy. He would always just look at me and growl.
The ice cream truck was cheap and in good condition, but I had a lot of trouble with it at first. When I bought it, I was under the impression that an ice cream truck runs on ice cream, just like a diesel truck would run on diesel fuel. So the first day I wanted to go for a drive I loaded up the gas tank with Rocky Road and replaced all the oil in the engine with root beer. I only got about three hundred feet before all the marshmallows jammed up the transmission, and caus
The MiceOnce I had a problem with mice. They had a little hole in one of the walls of my bedroom, and at night they would skitter across the floor. Unfortunately, skittering is one of the noisiest ways a mouse can move, and they would keep me up all night running little mouse races around my bed. They were fun to watch at first, but a couple of times they grazed my leg with the starter pistol.
I decided to try and catch them with a basic mouse trap, with a hunk of cheese serving as bait. The mice refused to take the cheese, saying that the piece was too large to pass through their hole and into their burrow.
So the next day I hired an architect to enlarge the mouse hole by a few inches, using tiny sticks of dynamite. This wasn't good enough for them, and they presented me with a list of demands. Apparently, the more sophisticated mice only eat cheese out of a fondue pot with very tiny forks. Outraged, I began to crump
The AbductionThree years ago I was abducted by extraterrestrials. They weren't at all like the ones you see in the movies. For example, instead of capturing me with a beam of light that drew me into their spaceship, they had a long rope with a hook, baited with a whole turkey. I don't know what I was thinking biting down on it like that. I wasn't even hungry.
Once they took me up into the ship, they had a hard time prying me off that turkey. I was just in the mood to bite I guess. They wanted to perform some experiments on me, but I told them that I was an organ donor, and that pretty much put them off the whole idea of that.
They decided to cut their losses and instead hold me for a ransom. Having a poor understanding of human anatomy, they cut off some of my hair and sent it to my family as a threat. They did a pretty good job too, and I haven't yet found a stylist who could duplicate the look they gave me.
Fun Facts: Collector's EditionI am simultaneously leasing my soul to the Devil, the Man, and The Cleveland Indians. In return, the Devil washes my car on Sundays, the Man gives me baking tips, and The Cleveland Indians taught me how to love.
After a team of psychiatrists spent countless hours debating whether I was insane or a maniac, I was finally deemed an "insana-ma-maniac" and was given a small plaque covered trophy to this effect. That trophy is currently on display in the International Museum of Bad Psychiatry.
A similar debate over whether I was crazy with a "c" or krazy with a "k" led to a small civil war in Nigeria and three weddings. Two of the couples are still together, and the other "just needs a little time to work things out." The civil war, however, has been a humanitarian disaster of unimaginable horror.
Once, while facing a difficult matter of conscience, an angel appeared on my right shoulder, and a devil appeared on my left. I then screamed