CornMo.com

This old guy from town fashioned a bird out of marzipan for a contest to see who could make the best Ortolan Bunting dining experience without harming a bird. Inside the marzipan, he packed corn-based sweetened breakfast cereal to mimic thorny bones and salted jellies for organs. There was a tiger behind him doing the same thing with a wax figure. When he turned around, the tiger cocked his head like a kitty asking to go outside in its cutest manner (cats killing birds around the home is congruent to natural selection because they evolved a darling face to humans). The cat was gnawing on a large stick to fashion a femur within its paws, then taking the wood bone by its mouth to the fake leg and nudging it inside the pants with its nose. Behind the tiger was a baby and the baby had fangs and was laughing at the funny papers someone had glued to the ceiling. The comic was Howard Huge and the enormous dog had eaten a room of marzipanned figures: a tiger, a man, and an Orontal Bunting. The frustrated cartoon child next to the cartoon dog said something funny but the baby couldn’t read and the laughing eventually showed the fangs to be rice pudding spittle.

Dear Girl,

Hopefully you’ll get this letter.  I wrote the first part of it a year ago and just finished the last part today.  I couldn’t figure out why I wrote to you but now I do.

I can only tell you part of what I’m doing and then I want you to guess the rest.  I’ve been living by the pond near your house, eating tadpoles and minnows and the occasional horse apple (the last one I keep throwing up).  I bore a resemblance to an amphibian, webbing my hands with 2 pairs of rubber gloves and fish fins attached to my toenails with the aid of Lee Press-On Nails.  The gloves are excellent.  The toe fins are still in trial stages.

I've also managed to bore a hole in my neck on accident due to an attempt to fix a rake I bought from an Amish fellow.  I kept pulling on one of the pointy pegs and it jabbed into my neck.  I thought I had finally found my invitation to heaven but the bleeding miraculously stopped, leaving an awkward hole to my esophagus.  I was inspired to fashion a blow hole with a stopper to prevent water from coming in.  I had a couple of mistakes. 

After the blow hole was a success I tried to make a gill out of pvc pipe embedded with a device that would filter in H2O, triggering the emission of an equal amount of cariporide (a sodium-hydrogen inhibitor), with the goal of oxygen entry.  I had a couple of mistakes.

With success of gills, I attempted to present myself as a plausible frog, swimming in the benthic zones (due to my size) and sitting on larger rocks for great lengths of time.  I had no inspiration to coexist with them, merely to study. I earlier mentioned eating the tadpoles for protein.

After a month of sitting naked by the pond and swimming in its murky water, I forgot why I had begun the experiment in the first place and wondered if it even was an experiment.  The lack of inspiration led to boredom and want for something else.  That something else was a sandwich and soup.  I broke into your house because it was the closest and made myself a peanut butter sandwich with bean and bacon soup.  After eating manfood I realized I was naked in a stranger’s house and ran back to the pond, immediately fashioning some shorts out of a plastic bucket I'd found in the old shed.  It looked more like a dress, so I drew a line with a pen down the middle in order to resemble shorts.

Here’s the second part:

I want to know if I could use your phone because I think I should check my bank account and see if I have any money to afford a proper apartment lease.

Love,      

Randy