Hubert was bored, so he picked up a camera and hucked a pie tin through the air to make a UFO photograph.
After sixteen reports to the FBI, they stopped taking his calls.
Later that month, gigantic pie tins floated down from the sky and landed in Hubert’s cornfield.
Hubert remembered The Boy Who Cried Wolf and realized he was completely and totally fucked.
Then, he remembered… he was the pie-eating champion of Bucktooth County ten years running.
Hubert ran towards the pie tins and… was blasted into smithereens by alien robots.
Come Fall, someone else will be pie-eating champion.
I have a small favor to ask.
You may notice there's no ads on this site. And I don't rattle a tipjar, either.
No, I'm not changing that,
But what I am asking is that you take a moment and think of what you'd have sent in for a blogging tipjar to this site and instead put that towards buying Grace Buford's music.
She's playing a gig in my Second Life venue tonight, and what she raises in tips and the appearance fee is going to help towards filling out her new home. (She's been living the Gypsy lifestyle and hasn't carried much furniture around with her, so she and the kids could use a few shelves and other things... yeah, I've been there before.)
Okay, so some of you won't take my word for it that she's absolutely wonderful. Fine. Be that way. To hear some of the tracks before buying, you can listen using The SixtyOne. It's a rather weird Web 2.0 kinda music site with bumps and other stuff, but it's pretty straightforward on how to play tracks from performers and whatnot.
(Then, you can admit that you were wrong about not taking my word for it, eh.)
If you're interested in contributing more than just an album sale to her furniture fun, let me know in the comments or via email, and I'll send you a PayPal address where you can contribute directly.
Thanks, and.... um... METRO SUCKS!