Hello, people. Remember me? I'm the guy who writes this blog. My name is Scott. Hello.
I've been staying behind the writing lately, not poking my head through much. Probably it's just a phase. Who cares, though. Anyway. I decided to address you directly today because I've been letting things go, letting them get out of hand I mean, and it's time to take a little break and get some things in order. If you'll pardon the break in blather, then, I'll address a few issues.
The thing is: The blog complex is a mess. I love you people. I love having you around. I wouldn't close this blog if you paid me a million dollars. And even though all my real friends tell me that you guys are a bunch of losers and I should run you all out of here with a shotgun, I'm fond of you people and all your weird little flaws, deformities and social awkwardnesses. So, I'm keeping the blog complex open to you, but I'm going to have to ask you to chip in and help me get some things around here back in order. Here goes:
- I don't know who made the beautiful ping pong paddle sculpture in the Ping Pong and Rock Climbing Room but, even though it's a lovely sculpture, now people cannot play ping pong. There are forty-five tables and no paddles. Please dismantle the sculpture or replace the paddles. Our ping pong paddle budget is tapped out for the year.
- If you drink the last cup of coffee in the pot, please don't throw the coffee maker away. Make another pot, or rinse out the pot and put it in the dishwasher. And when the dishwasher is full, don't throw it away. Just run it and then empty it. And when the trash is full, don't set the can on fire. Pull out the bag, take it to the dumpster, and then put a new bag in the can. What the hell is wrong with you people?
- The trauma counselors are for everyone. There are only twelve of them. Please don't blather on and on and on. We cannot afford any more trauma counselors this year.
- There are sixty-three hoodies in lost and found. Sixty-three. Please, for the love of god, take your hoodies home.
- The wombats in the wombat pantry are all crooked and out of order. If you're going to play with a wombat, please put it back exactly as you found it. They wombat butler is getting pissed, and he's the only wombat butler in the Western Hemisphere. If he quits, we'll have to burn all the wombats.
- I'm not sure who's been sleeping in the broom closet, but the broom master asks that you please wear pajamas.
- I'm tired of people complaining about the moray eels. The rules on the back of the door to the natatorium clearly indicate that the moray eels are released into the pool for 13 minutes at the 51st minute of every even numbered hour so they can exercise. Please keep track of the time and be out of the pool when the door to their tank opens. It's your responsibility, not mine.
- The observatory is only to be used for studies that support currently accepted norms in astronomical science. If you want to challenge the establishment, build your own observatory.
- Until they're legal, please stay out of the euthanasia pods. We could get in serious trouble, you guys.
- The suggestion box in the main foyer is meant to be ironic. Please keep your suggestions to yourself.
That's enough for today. Please comply. Be a sport, weirdo.
Hello, friends. I'm glad you are.
Later. Love.
