Holy crap, it’s Columbus Day again already! It really snuck up on me and forced me into sexual slavery this year.
It’s already late in the day, so I barely have time to infect all these blankets with smallpox, pack them into my saddlebags, ride my bike until I hit a roadblock, and then set up shop handing them out — to say nothing of finishing up the website for my campaign to change the name of wherever I do end up to California.
“Greetings, Californians!” I will say when I de-bike.
“But this is Paramus, New Jersey*,” they will reply.
Aren’t they quaint? They don’t even know!
Man, I love the holidays.
*I assume I’ll make it about that far before I need to stop for a snack, am lured into an IKEA, or both.