Post-Pi Day
Pie posted before March 15, 2026.
Slatternday was Pi Day. I ate a pie. Then I ate a pi. Then I ate a π. Then I tried to eat another Greek letter, but I barfed. So I stopped.
“And be it remembered that these noted problems had been long since given up by scientific bodies as insolvable mysteries and above man’s ability to comprehend.” So said Indiana when they tried to round the pi. I like round pies. But pi can’t be rounded. Can it be squared?
Oh, no! I need to be at home squaring the circle and doubling the cube!
The mind wonders. The mind also wanders.
I remembered narfling the garthok. But I also narfled the gömböc. That was a lot more surreal.
I wonder how we used to talk before we invented sentences. Did we just hurl nouns and verbs at each other without any structure or grammar? With all those nouns and verbs flailing wildly around, who could understand a thing? Would you even want to? It would just be endless shrieking and babbling. Like monkeys and baboons. Like this blog. And like my cornfed huzzey-muffet in the throws of orgasm.
I wish there were fewer words to choose from sometimes. Then I remember, most of them I just made up myself.
Thinking about all those words made me hungry, so I went about rummaging through my refrigerator like a dachshund with a cork up its ass. What I found was truly unthinkable: I was out of eggs to suck on.