Archive for the ‘Filth’ Category

© Andrew A. Vest

An Excerpt from the Memoirs of Sir Winston Earl Grey IV

Good day my little Lemurs! As of writing this I am trolling down the enchanting streams of exotic Cambodia! I am simply dizzy with anticipation! Today, we are discussing the harrowing danger of SMEF’ing! Brace yourselves!

So, my cheeky wee monkeys! Exactly why is a raven like a writing desk? Well, let me tell you something: it isn’t! Whatever the utterly fabulous Lewis Carroll was smoking when he came up with this little nugget of tommyrot was definitely illegal. A raven is a bird! It flies through the skies! It poohs menacingly on unexpecting victims! Whereas a desk is…well…a desk. A bit of wood propped up on legs. That’s about it.

The two have absolutely nothing in common in the slightest! Save for one simple thing: their lot in life, and believe me, it’s wretched. So wretched, in fact, is the life of the raven and the writing desk that both are permanent members of the SMEF list.

“But Winston! What is the SMEF list?”

Allow me to illuminate you. SMEF is a naughty acronym derived from the brilliant mind of philosopher and all around ninnypants Douglas Adams of the 20th century. It stands for Sudden Massive Existence Failure. Simply put, a bit of matter (you, your dog, a paperclip, lint, the Republic of China, etc.) becomes so utterly distraught with its own existence that is simply decides to stop being.

Office supplies have a horrific tendency to SMEF, due to their likelihood of being lost forever behind desks, stuffed between seat cushions, made into cute desk ornaments or slobbered on by children. I recall the tale of King Bic, ruler of Stapledom. He was accidentally dethroned by a disgruntled insurance salesman having a steamy affair amongst his quarterly progress reports. Tragically, in the throes of angry sin, the insurance salesman thrashed his arm across his desk, casting King Bic into the bottomless abyss of Waste Basket, wherein he became so distraught with the hand he was dealt that he said to himself:

“I don’t think I want to exist anymore…” And POOF! He was gone.

Consequently, the absolute most incredible SMEF was performed by the entire city of Atlantis in 9600 BC. Luckily, a hotel has taken its place.

Ravens have no purpose in life and writing desks are rudely written on by writhing workers working while writing (say that twice and try not to cuss!). Both are such sensitive beings of existence that simply looking at either in a less-than-pleasant manner will cause them to implode unto themselves without a thought otherwise.

If you find yourself in the position of either the raven or the writing desk and feel as though you might not want to exist anymore, then simply think back on your life and consider that it could be a lot worse…you could have been a paperclip.



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