Shopping cart, o shopping cart, Why do I always choose the one with the wobbly wheels? You are so difficult for me to push. Why do I always choose the wrong day to wear heels? Shopping cart o shopping cart, with you I won't get far. And why o why, did you smash into my car?

Joe came home and thought some of his things might have been taken. When he looked he then saw the truth that he was not mistaken, for a fairly large number of his things were gone. Jewelry and petty cash, laptop and silverware tv and stereo one pound of camembert grandfather clock and the Playstation 4. But when he looked to his most cherished storage (He sought out all his greatest possessions and) (He sought out all of his things) filling up half the garage (things he had hidden away hidden away from harm) (things he had hid, hiding from harm) he couldn't believe his eyes. (what do I see?) (i'm not seeing things straight) This must be some kind of mirage. (a fata morgana ghostly sight.) (seeing refracted light.) Who do these people think they are, deciding what is up for grabs? What type of idiot would take a silver spoon but leave these guitar cabs? And my sugar cube model of the planet Kashyyyk. Everything's here! Everything's here! Everything that matters most to me. Why didn't they find it worth taking? Everything's here! Everything's here! Everything that matters most to me, and so much rage that I'm shaking. Agh, vintage sears catalogs from '74 oh look over here, Paul Stanley poster taped to the door. Agh, the whole season six of the Bob Newhart Show. How could they have left that behind? Battlestar Galactica cylon number two from episode seven, season three action figure still in its original packaging! They didn't take it. Idiots. Mint chocolate chip cookie dough studio candles, still here! Morons. My pashmina scarf is still here! My autographed copy of Family Guy's Blue Harvest DVD, still here! My Dionne Warwick concert t-shirt, wait, that actually is missing. My collection of raisins in the shape of Mick Jagger's face is still here! Can you believe it?

I pass by them every day. There's nothing in there people say but piles of salt to melt the icy winter streets. If I could get a look inside at what they're trying to hide I'd find the instrument of our defeat. It sends a signal to a distant star. Sometimes late at night I wonder who they are. What do they look like? Are they connected to one brain? When they're through with us, will anything remain? With a shape so odd, like a giant pod, it must be from another atmosphere. How will we stop their plan to conquer every land? There's trouble up ahead it would appear. Am I that desperate for something to change That I would conjure up these thoughts so strange? There's too much evidence that goes beyond all that I know. What's that I see moving in the snow? I pass by them every day There's nothing in there people say but piles of salt to melt the icy winter streets. If I could get a look inside at what they're trying to hide I'd find the instrument of our defeat.

Were you talking to me? Cause I was somewhere else. (I was here but somewhere else in my head.) If I had to be here I think I wouldn't survive, so my absence is why I haven't fled. In syndication I'll take my vacation. I don't think that I am malfunctioning. I'm getting paid to do a job. I do it well while doing something else. I'm in my dreams but wide awake. Were there sounds going off with flashing lights on the board? I can tune it all out with a snap. Nothing ever goes on that's remotely important on that lit up international map This is the console for missile launch control. I think something might be malfunctioning I'm usually not quite this annoyed. I'll hit some buttons til these sounds go off Then I can go back to my job. No indignation in a life of relaxation. Were you talking to me? Cause I was somewhere else. I was here but somewhere else in my head. Whether chopping up rocks or lifting weights in the yard or just listening to the guards overhead. Incarceration; simple acclimation. No indignation in a life of relaxation. (In syndication, relaxation, in a life of pure vacation, for the length of thirty years duration.)

Dropped out of school to get a job (made my mother nearly sob) but I'm in debt to the local mob and who needs math class anyway? I saw a sign at the lumber yard sawing logs can't be that hard (it sure beats the national guard) to chop them up and see what they weigh. Mister Maruka, I've got a problem. Could you come over here after you finish your beer and show me what I'm doing wrong? I put the log on the table I push the button "Log Scale" but every log I add counts for less and less each time and the first log just brings it to zero. Well here's your problem over there The edge is propped up on that chair. Go pull it out now don't just stare. I thought you said that you were smart! Kurt, you're over 12 months overdue On that loan for the petting zoo We told you that we'd come for you so now we're here to break your face. Get me Jack Napier. I've got a problem. Ask him why's this acid all of a sudden flaccid? cause isn't he also the Joker? I threw this vial at Kurt It should have burned him and hurt but all it seemed to do is just make him kinda itch though the pH was only one lower. When that earthquake hit it shattered all our vials. We were prepared for a six not a seven. So why was the difference larger than from five to six These aren't spaced evenly, (but) like gauging exponential growth. But the acid made me blind in fact so now all that I have is my hearing. Maybe I'll pursue a job of sorts in the field of audio engineering. I'll have someone build a mixing board with the channels and controls all in braille. I just want to stay as far away as I can from a stupid log scale.

It's three in the morning and I'm... sleeping. And without a warning I hear someone creeping on my back porch so I get out of bed. In the dark of the night I hear a voice that said, "I hear you've got a problem with a baby raccoon. I came here as soon as I got the call." I said, "Couldn't this have waited til morning?" "It is morning." "I meant like nine or ten." "Oh, it'd be much too late by then. You see, this isn't just any ordinary baby raccoon. This is Thomas Dolby, The Baddest Baby Raccoon Of Them All." "Thomas Dolby? He's named after the musician from the eighties? The 'Blinded Me With Science' guy?" "No, that's just his name. I don't know why." It was then that I remembered that I hadn't made a call. In fact, I didn't have a raccoon problem at all. Then suddenly the man just disappeared. I'm tellin you, the whole thing was just really weird. He was nowhere to be found, though I looked all around, so I went back inside and it was then that I heard a sound, a scratching sound from inside the wall. And I knew without a doubt it was Thomas Dolby, The Baddest Baby Raccoon Of Them All.

She calls herself "Night Moon" cause she comes out late at night fighting crime, cause that's the time that crime is happening. She calls herself "Night Moon" cause that's the time when she takes flight. It's gonna be alright when Night Moon comes around. By day she's a reporter at a television station. It's been years since she had a vacation. She's really into Japanese animation. (That's where she gets her inspiration.) She calls herself "Night Moon".

This chicken is an Amish chicken, never used a computer never drove a car. This chicken never owned a television, never got into a fight at the local bar, this chicken is an Amish chicken. This chicken is an Amish chicken, never played a pony or a videogame. This chicken is an amish chicken, never cared about worldy fortune or fame, this chicken is an Amish chicken. This chicken is an Amish chicken, never dreamed of becoming a movie star. This chicken never tried finger pickin a Rickenbacker 12 string electric guitar, this chicken is an Amish chicken. This chicken is an Amish chicken, never hitched a ride to vegas on a dare. This chicken doesn't know what its missing but it really doesn't matter cause it really doesn't care, this chicken is an Amish chicken.

Dust is made of people, people who are dusty. A few of those such people might even be named Dusty. But I'm not Dusty. I'm not dusty. I'm not Dusty. I'm not dusty today. Skin is made of carbon in hydrocarbon bonding, but I won't be as dusty, for I am made of carrots. I'm a meal made of carrots, not a person made of carbon. But you're thinking I am made of carbon. Yes, that's true, but I won't dry and turn to dust that will become the dirt that lives inside your house.

If we are to make our escape, we must destroy the master tapes. What is it that you just said? You might as well have struck me dead. There are no master tapes, everything is digital? How I wish I could make myself invisible, somehow find a way to go back in time when everything was analog and easy to find. Destroy the master tapes! There are no master tapes? Perhaps I can help. I have all your files in my possesion. If I were human, some might call you my obsession. But this is simply what I was programmed to do. So now, if you'll allow me, I'll take care of you. Destroy the master tapes! There are no master tapes.

The RX95-4000; a thing of beauty in her day. They don't make anything quite like that now. Those days have long since gone away. There wasn't anything we could not do. We could have string trimmed through the years. Our hopes and dreams were cut in pieces now with fewer than these seven gears. And so it rode away. It mowed away.

Girl you've got googly eyes. They're big and round and knobby. They don't look at all quite human cause you bought em at Hobby Lobby. Boy you've got fuzzy hair I'd call it wirey if I were meaner. It's stiff and pricks my finger because it's made out of pipe cleaner. Craftwork, craftwork you're trying to trick me with craftwork. Kid you got a skinny body, but all you eat is chicken and bologna. Your anatomy has me confounded which is fine if you are made out of macaroni. Craftwork, craftwork you're trying to trick me with craftwork.

Wisconsin

El borrador, tú eres el mejor de todas cosas en la clase. El borrador, tú eres el mejor en sul del San Agnose. Tú eres mi amigo al fin de semana, mi borrador. Que lástima no tú eres la mujer, pero tú eres el mejor.

What A Day This Has Been