My Whereabouts

The last three weeks snuck up behind me and hit me over the head with a chair. When I awoke, I was tied to railroad tracks, the weeks twiddling its evil looking moustache. As weeks often do, it told me exactly what its plans were, rubbing its hands together in glee. Its plans were fiendish, but, as it often is with weeks, it failed to reveal every detail to me, forcing me to adapt and come up with new plans of how to break my bonds. Finally, when its back was turned, I was able to escape using a paperclip, rubber band and the latest issue of Newsweek. I am the Jewish MacGyver. When it had discovered that I had escaped, it wrestled with me as the train approached, it had my head down on the tracks, with moments to go until I would probably have a massive headache at the very least. Then, at the last moment, I remembered my jiu jitsu training (I am skilled in seven deadly martial arts but can seldom remember that I am). I threw the weeks over my head where it made a satisfying “splurch” sound as the train met it head on (“splurch” is the sound a week makes when it is hit by a train. Don’t try to look it up, though, just take my word for it).

I limped back home where I was embraced by the new week that will be coming up. It looks friendlier, but I will be on guard in case it turns on me.

As I struggled, I had to forego writing, including keeping this blog up to date. In the next few days, as I recover from my ordeal, I will get back into a routine of ranting, raving and generally making my presence on the Internet known to my legions of fans (all two of you).