We Thought Pierre Got a New Car

Robyn: Ooh! Did you get a new car?

Pierre: No.

Robyn: We thought since it was the same colour as your old one that you might have decided to get another one like it.

Pierre (puzzled): It's not the same colour. My car is orange. This car is burnt orange.

The Nipples of Mother Hope Have Run Dry

So here I sit, trying to find a topic for this paper I have to write for tomorrow and getting nowhere. And as I pick through the readings from my class, hoping for the muse to whisper something worthwhile in my ear, I realize suddenly that I will be unable to hear her even if she does because there is a junior high marching band playing in the Knights of Columbus parking lot right outside my goddamn window. I'm not kidding. The xylophone carries the melody, and the rest is all drums except for the guy barking marching orders in French. I'm glad this is my last week of school, because they sound like they need a lot of practice.