Genitalia and Ghostson November 6, 2008 at 9:00 am
Yes, we are fully aware of the implications of today’s strip. In this little lock-and-key universe, the fact that the locks are wearing their genitalia proudly on their chests like the Kryptonian “S” of Superman does not escape us. And indeed the men are essentially giant upright penises, bouncing around like Tigger from one adventure to the next.
But that’s not I’m here to talk about. Instead, I’d like to discuss the issue on everyone’s mind today. That’s right. Ghosts. I believe that my driveway is haunted. Hear me out before you callously dismiss me as being paranoid.
I first noticed that something was amiss when I heard intermittent rushing of wind from outside followed by the occasional thud against my window. The only logical conclusion was that these were ghosts staggering around, doomed to fulfill unfinished business. Or they were just bored and clumsy. Either way: Ghosts!
Exhibit 2: I was attempting to carry a fifty-pound package of seeds into the apartment (in an unrelated project to grow my own firewood in my backyard) when it spilled open, scattering a handfuls of seeds all over the porch. “I’ll clean it up in the morning,” I thought, not suspecting that ghouls would intervene (a foolish thought, I know). The next morning, I stumbled out to my front porch still tipsy from my breakfast Windex, and all of the seeds were gone! Unaware that ghosts liked eating tree fetuses so much, I slammed the door behind me as I cowered in fear and quietly hiccupped bubbles.
After three days of sitting by the door listening to the ghosts mill around and chirp to one another in their high-pitched ghost language, the sounds finally subsided and I ventured outside armed with a Dirt-Devil to capture any ghosts that might show themselves.
I investigated the area, and the evidence of ghosts was strikingly clear. There was bright white ectoplasm all over my car and the sidewalk. And it must have been cold because I found a few feathers that likely spilled out of one of the ghosts wearing a down jacket.
This message was a warning. If I suddenly disappear, get your (anti) ghost-gun. It might already be too late.