Creed Thoughts
I don’t know about you, but I’m known far and wide as a guy that can cut a rug. Not literally. I’ve never actually sliced into any rugs, but I bet I’d be pretty good at that, too, considering how handy I am with knives. I can cut a rug in the sense that I can dance like a mofo. Ever since I was little, I’ve had rhythm in me. Everyone used to call me Lil’ Josephine Baker because I liked to shake it everywhere I went, plus I once made a skirt out of bananas. My favorite place to hoof it was the market. One time, I was dancing up a storm in the produce section and I knocked into a huge display of apples. Those Red Delicious came tumbling down, but that didn’t stop little Creedy. No sir. I just kept on twirling and juking and the apples became my dance floor. When I was finished, the whole store applauded, except for the manager, who called the police. Click here to read more.
Schrute-Space
Good June to you, or as we say on Schrute Farms: Guttenjuni!
There is a topic I’ve been meaning to bring up and this appears to be the appropriate time. I have noticed many more people taking photographs of things now that the true start of summer is nearly upon us. Photography is an “art” that I do not endorse. If you’d like to see how something looks, go see it with your own eyes. If you want to see a representation of something, then go look at a drawing or painting. Grandma Mannheim was especially adept at illustrating Strullpeter stories, so don’t try and tell me that photographs are better than drawings. Photographs merely replicate the human visual experience as a frozen moment in time and that insults the eyes and the memory. Click here to read the rest.
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