The weather and the roads remain dry and clear… the biggest thing you’ll need to pay attention to during the drive is what to listen to on the radio. There’s no ice, no rain, no rocks, no bears, no earthquakes, no fires, or even any potholes. That’s right: even the highway itself has no potholes to report upon… that road is smoooooooooooth. I used to at least be able to report that there were potholes… apparently, there’s not even that now. Thanks a lot, CalTrans. Are you people now starting to see just how very tough this “road reporter” gig is?
Okay, I have some sad news to share: The Pillsbury Dough Boy has passed away. He lost his life to a terrible yeast infection, aggravated by years of being poked in the belly (drug use may have also contributed to his death: Close friends say that he was always baked). He was buried in a lightly greased coffin, with services at 3:50 for about 20 minutes. His funeral was attended by Betty Crocker, Mrs. Butterworth, Hungry Jack, the California Raisins, and Cap’n Crunch.
In spite of a rough childhood (he was a smart cookie, but his mother was crummy, and his father was a wafer so long), he somehow became a roll model. Still, he never seemed to understand how badly he was kneaded. Perhaps this was because he was a little flaky.
He is survived by his three children, John Dough, Jane Dough and Dosey Dough; and also by his wife, Play Dough. Tragically, there was a bun in the oven, too.
I’m still trying to wrap my head around the latest project by Elon Mollusk. Last Sunday night, he launched a “space sex” rocket. I don’t really know what’s going on in that ship, but I assume that people are able to join the 900- mile- high club. I guess, though, that everybody looks pretty good up there, since nobody is overweight. I also hear that a sister ship will be launched soon, as a means of exploring planets that might bear coal deposits… that rocket will be called the Sissy Space X.
Hey! Random bonus joke: Do you know why humans can’t hear a dog whistle? Well… because dogs can’t whistle.
So, Hurricane Mike is punching like Tyson right now. It was last aimed at the middle of Florida, otherwise known as the Crotch of Florida (don’t even ask what the droopy protrusion of Florida is called). This storm seems to have sneaked up on Florida with a sucker punch… it might even try to bite off an ear or something. Hopefully the storm surge doesn’t bring too much seawater inland… people get emoceanal about that.
If you have not heard of what happened to the painting by the artist known as Banksy, which sold for nearly 1.4 million dollars last Friday at a Sotheby’s auction, well, you almost missed a great story! It’s a good thing that you read this road report. (At least I hope you did… if not, find it online, and read the road report now!) You see, Banksy had installed a hidden shredding device inside the frame of this work… he hid it years ago, without telling anybody. It included a remote control, too… and at the auction, moments after the hammer fell on that price, the remote control triggered the shredding device, and to the utter amazement of all in attendance, the canvas was shredded before everybody’s eyes. Now, the behavior of artists can be difficult to explain… and, it’s hard to imagine that the buyer will actually STILL pony up the check for the now- destroyed art. But… this actually happened. I love a good WEIRD story, and I love to be able to share it.
Wait… Connor MacGregor is IRISH? But… the name, the red hair, the temper… I totally thought he was Korean!
Folks, that’s the end of today’s report… I would like to make a motion that this fine day be nominated for “National Didn’t Do Any ‘National Day’ Stuff in the Road Report Day.” All in favor say, “aye.” All opposed, say, “no.” Well… let’s face it: The aye’s have it, two to one over the no’s!