Things can happen either for a reason or without a reason. Happenings can’t happen without anything happening. That’s logical, without a doubt. The following story, however, had a reason, yet it didn’t have one. How can that be? Heck if I know, but by the time you finish reading this piece, you’ll have a pretty darn great idea.
What happened?
Dude goes crazy. Crazy Dog fishes a dead fish from a man’s stomach. And the stomach makes the noise of a crazy dude. The dog, fish, noise – that’s what drove the man crazy in the first place.
Crazy people are crazy. I know it’s sort of a complicated way to put it, but I must assume you do understand what I mean. Crazy dude is crazy and the dude is crazy. Crazy equals dude and dude…I have no farking idea who he is. Maybe he’s a she. Nowadays you can’t really know.
Implementation of new hardware to a network tractor’s cd distributor. The dude’s task for today was quite inhumane. Or how would you describe the installation of new hardware to a talking tractor who distributes cd’s to his (or again, maybe it was a she) cellmates.
Mate, I know you’re pretty much as confused as you ever could be. But stop thinking about yourself. Think of the crazy dude who read the exact same paragraph from his yesterday’s to-do list for today. Dude went crazy yesterday. Full Holy nuts, so things were pretty bad with him. And working as a chess player assistant (job responsibilities include carrying water and massaging the player’s fingers) he was forced to write down exactly what he thought at the time of writing it, what he should write.
To date (well, since yesterday, but he woke up today), he has no idea what’s it all about. And what’s worse, the crazy dude is still crazy as crazy is as crazy does and crazy never does anything not crazy, as crazy crazies only craziness.
It’s only fair towards you guys to start from the beginning. There are certain things you have in mind I believe. Why did the crazy go crazy? What does the chess player (his boss, you remember) have to do with all this? Brown couch? Crazy dogs who eat from crazy man’s stomach? And what the fark do I have against midgets?
Today is Friday. This time the week started with Monday. It’s all quite simple actually, not all weeks start with Friday. Sometimes they don’t start at all. Yes, on Wednesday it was a sunny day, a perfect day to go for a romantic moonwalk in your panties , taking your sleeping extremely irritated dog with you without you knowing it. Well, he didn’t even know he was sleepwalking, that’s the point of moonwalking, right?
He was just unknowingly smiling at the moon when he thought he saw something. Except for the moon, except for the stars, except for the flying saucers and crashing planes. He saw a couch, an ice skating brown couch. And that seemed so weird he thought someone had put something in his drink (yes, I know, but he still doesn’t, that actually he’s sleepwalking and dreaming of great dreams).
What he didn’t see was that there were no ice skates under the couch, but the couch still did move quite smoothly. Like it was floating. No, it wasn’t. There were twelve midgets carrying the brown couch on which the Cinderella rested. Talk about weird.
Did I mentioned we are talking about the crazy man, right? And crazy is as crazy does or he does a crazy and gets crazy by doing crazy on the way.
Suddenly the storm begins, heavy rain & thunder is covering the skies. There’s no moon anymore, but lot of water, rainbows and the midgets are still there.
Or are they? In no time the crazy dude feels salt water pouring into his mouth, oh how good it tasted until he felt like swallowing something. It was probably a fish. At least that’s what he saw when he had waken up with a damn bad hangover, feeling like someone had eaten something from his arse (yup, no stomach, actually the fish was….), he was laying in a beach, in a feet deep water, swallowing … water and fish.
And the chess player – well, the weird paragraph he wrote as is to-do list was actually supposed to be an analysis of a recent chess play. Yes, he got fired.
The moral of the story: Don’t drink. Or is it? 
