Special to The Brutal Times, By Bradley Meyer – I was hating every single moment of my life until I found my fondue crock pot on the street in front of my neighbor’s house.
That crock pot, once cleaned off and packed with thick translucent fondue goo has knocked me on my keister and wrapped its dripping hot salty tentacles around my mind.
Used to be I had nothing to do – no more.
Yeah I love slurping fondue from my crock pot.
While others spend thousands of China’s money on big ticket vanity items like iPod touches and plasma televisions, I prefer my crock pot.
Yes I do – I prefer it.
It ain’t so very big my crock pot.
But it’s big enough to put on my head after I’m done slurping the light sweet crude fondue out of it.
That’s how I get my special hairstyle.
And when I go by most folks yell “Hey – there goes that crock pot crackpot!”
I’m so glad I found my crock pot.
It was just layin’ there.
I guess somebody lost it. Or they threw it away.
Some people have bad luck. And others have no class. No class at all.
Sometimes some people want to share the slurppage of my crock pot.
That’s never ever going to happen.