Don’t judge them.
Because I TOTALLY will do this from now on if it is. I have absolutely no problem tipping, but it’s the MATH. I just hate the math.
I miss Buckeye Bob. Anytime I see a good illusion, I remember how much he liked them, and I miss him.
Anyway, here’s your Friday night illusion.
You know you’re an awesome hunter when you don’t even need a weapon.
A few years ago, I was coming home from a haircut and it was evening time, and it was raining. And I hit the garage door button to open the garage as I always do, and as I started to pull into the garage, there was a GIGANTIC EVIL LOBSTER in the middle of my spot in the garage, standing up on its back legs, and pinching its front claws open and shut at me. VIOLENTLY AND WITH INTIMIDATION.
I was mortified, because a) I live in Indiana, which clearly is not known for its lobster population and b) this lobster was FURIOUS.
Obviously, I couldn’t drive in, because I was too filled with terror. So I called Mr. Mock, who was inside the house, to tell him that I was being threatened by a menacing lobster in the garage.
You can imagine his reaction. I didn’t see it firsthand, of course, since I was trapped in my car, but I’m fairly certain his eyes rolled waaaaaaaay back into his head. He came out, holding a shovel, and picked up the attacker to throw it into the creek.
It kinda looked like this, only way bigger and more menacing.
Mr. Mock recalls a slightly different version of that fateful night:
If an entire block of cheese is a park snack for you, you’ve pretty much hit rock bottom.
Or if you let this much of yourself hang out in public places:
I mean, COME ON. Have some freaking DIGNITY, for crying out loud.