Cronan's Introduction

Wackylaced by Brendan Dillon

Wackylacing is the fine art of taking something that someone else wrote, and by inserting a line of your own in between each of theirs, changing the meaning of the writing entirely. Anything quoted below with brackets (">") is written by Cronan Thompson; the lines in between, by Brendan Dillon.

> Today I am going to introduce myself. Here goes a breif overveiw of my take

out order from Burger King. I don't like having an empty stomach while writing

> on life, the universe, and everything.
> First of all there is my family. It is very hard to be "normal" when your

a big meanie. I like being cruel to animals, such as Dan Tropea. Also, my

> house is a giant sitcom waiting to happen. Me, my mother, my 2 brothers,

and my blue elf got tired of it, and abandoned the place one night. Now only

> my sister, and our 2 foster children occupy my home most of the time. I say

this to you because I've had too much to drink to control myself. I'm drunk

> most of the time because the population has a tendancy to jump up to 12

and I just can't stand it. I usually give up malt liquor for bourbon

> when my brothers and sister have friends over. Well, to be fair there are

times when I just leave for my favorite hooker. She says she's legal but she's

> really 15 if you count both dogs and the cat, who think they are human

and want to get in on the action. I'm not into that stuff, but they try

> anyway. The cat looks suspiciously like a dog and is quite fond of drinking

my bourbon. I run away at this point, with memories of my own cat, who slurps

> the milk out of your cereal bowl in midspoonful. Our dogs have been known

to be abducted by aliens. Once the dogs brought some aliens back; they came

> to force there way into the car and refuse to get out until you take them

back to where their ship landed. After that, I began looking for a gun shop

> somewhere (preferably with a drive-thru). Every meal requires intricate

song-and-dance numbers. My mom won't give me food without a show. Then, the

> negotiations with my mom as to what I am willing to pay. My grandmother,

at the ripe old age of 143, is impossible to understand. Her "friend",

> who lived with us until recently, is Jamaican. She is almost entirly

covered with hair, due to an accident with radioactive Rogaine. She's also

> positive that everything Jamaican is 5-10 times the size of its American

stereotype. Jamaica's bobsled team was much better than the "Cool Runnings"

> counterpart. For example, she is constantly regailing me with facts about

her childhood, when her family would abandon her at the beach. She was amazed by

> the size of Jamaican shrimp which, by her accounts, can feed a family of

tribbles. This is rediculous; I know that when tribbles eat shrimp, they have

> 6 each. Then there are my brothers, who believe wholeheartedly that Star

Wars is better than Star Trek. That's fairly obvious. I always knew that Star

> Trek is evil and MTV is the only source of true knowledge in the universe.

I always watch it whenever I can wrench my sister from the TV. Fortunately,

> My sister has gotten over Barney and the Power Rangers, only to decide that

I am to be her slave for life, which is disconcerting. She can do that, because

> she is queen god of the galaxy.
> Then there is religion. I find religion an interesting concept but not one

that includes candy corn. I like candy corn. And those, my friend, are words

> to live by. I just really can't get in to this worship of an almighty being

because it makes me feel bad about the size of my penis. I bet God has huge

> stuff. Not only that, but for the most part it is dull. There are only

one sex scene, for Pete's sake. Someone told me that if you trip on acid

> so many times that you can hear about this big flood and a floating zoo and

it's all illustrated, though it's in your head. It sounds fun, but costs a lot to

> have it be interesting. And if there is a God, he is either on vacation or

at a Dave Matthews Band concert. But personally, I think that Dave Matthews is

> having a really long nap, 'cause he sure hasn't made an appearance anytime

on tour around here for a while. I wish stores had their first CD, it's called

> recently.
> Then there is life in general. Life never fails to get me down because of

the fact that I don't have one. All I have are my writings, but just imagine

> how much of it other people ignore. Here are some examples of the things

my friends do when they're not drunk. They always insist on doing things

> that either piss me off or get me laughing until I see how incredibly sad

their lives are. But, some people on the news are worse, like the scum that

> they are. Natural disasters, for example, although incredibly distructive,

make me feel a little better because I know they hit someone else. They

> are source of never ending humor for me. For example: Every year, tornado

tubes come in my cereal. You put them on soda bottles. Back to my point: each

> season in the Midwestern United States causes a terrible loss of property

which I usually go and loot. Sometimes I'll find some magazines, like Time

> and life. But year after year on television they have the same group of

annoying shows on Fox. Shows get canceled so fast, some debuts have the same

> people they had last year. You know the ones, they married thier sister

and were featured in Weekly World News, where Fox finds them. They act badly

> and have a collection of spray cheese containers, walking around in their

dressing rooms like spray cheese tends to do when you're high, remembering their

> destroyed trailer park and looking dumb founded with a finger lodged five

inches into the aerosol container. They pull it out, and it pops out and in two

> to six inches into some orifice, even though the exact same thing has been

done on "Ripley's Beleive It Or Not." They think it's new, though it's been

> happening for the last 15 years. Then there are the flood "victims". These

evil, evil men live only to make money off of various insurance claims. The

> people get a 20 room, 5000sq. ft. house for five dollars, and then when it

goes even farther down in value, they dig out the river bank; and when it

> floods, are incredulous at the sight of their home sinking beneath the

river. These frauds should be shot on sight, along with anyone who manipulates

> waves.
> I have solved the reason why men and women don't get along. It has to do

with genitalia, of course. Assorted genitalia can be closely associated

> with the basic wants. In women, the basic want is to find one man to

pay all of her bills on top of his own. In addition, he's also required to

> satisfy her every want and need. Whereas in men, it is to get every woman

to have wet, messy sex with him in random locations. The purpose of this is

> to satisfy his one want and need.
> I am depressed even when I am happy. This is because I am convinced that

Ricardo Montalban is out to get me. He's made sure that at all times,

> somewhere else, someone is doing the exact same thing I am and having a

telepathic link with me to ensure that Montalban's information is updated. It's

> lot more fun. For example, when I am watching a sitcom, no matter how much

stupidity it presents, it's feeding him with information on my moods. Though

> I enjoy it, someone else is laughing hystertically at it. Now you see why

I eat so much candy corn. It distracts Ricardo Montalban from my prozac pills;

> I am sooooo depressed. PS: This thought probably made you happy but I am

sitting on the crapper because I ate too much candy corn last night. I am

> still depressed, so you had a better time thinking it than I did. I told

Montalban that his evil plot wouldn't work, but I was wrong. He said, "I told

> you so.

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