William Toblerone, contributor
Well, the whole drive-through enema thing is a bust. And I went through all of the trouble to remove the fences and trees from the front yard so that people could drive straight up to my kitchen window to enjoy a quality enema in the comfort of their vehicle. But the landlord is all, “Your destruction of this property is in direct violation of your lease and blah blah…..” He’s giving me a month to move out. That unreasonable bastard. He’s going to be in for quite a surprise when he returns in a month. If I can’t live in this house, nobody can.
My first thought was to simply move this house to a property with a more hospitable, entrepreneur-friendly owner. Inspired by Pixar’s epic relocation movie Up, I began blowing up balloons like crazy. They all just kind of fell limp and after a while I strained a cheek muscle. My friend Dwayne suggested I use helium balloons for better house-lifting power, but I’m not paying for fancy bottled air. We tried lifting it with six of Dwayne’s big cousins, but that malicious landlord fastened this house down to the ground pretty firmly.
Then the perfect idea hit me like dad used to. I’ll eat it. There’s this French guy, Michel Lotito, who ate an entire Cessna 150 Airplane. You can Google it, but it will lead to a full afternoon of surfing weird things people have eaten. Personally, I wouldn’t eat an airplane. I won’t even eat the food they serve on airplanes. (Although, I did eat Jasmine the flight attendant once. Ha! True story. Not cannibal like, really orally sexy style.) Anyway, I’m going to eat this old wooden house out of pure spite.
I have already finished half of the weather vane, using my neighbor’s grilled weather vane recipe. I marinated it for nine hours, but it still tastes a tad rusty. That will be finished tomorrow, and then I will work my way from the shingles down. (I guess that phone sex commercial was right! Sexy shingles ARE waiting for me in my area. Ha! Kidding. They actually are just regular shingles.) Oh, and I’ve been shaving thin pieces of the banister onto my daily arugula salad. It’s really bitter, but arugula gets that way when you let it flower for too long. Don’t judge, I was out of town.
I also plan to put chunks of sheetrock through the food processor to make house dressing. I tell you, this project has awoken my highest level of pure wit. And when that stupid landlord shows up here next month just in time to see me savoring the last bite of foundation, he’ll know he shut down the wrong home-based drive-through enema service. That bastard.