August of wind just blew your dress up! Hahahahaha!
Get it? Like “August of wind,” instead of “a gust of wind.” Get it?
Yeah, no, I totally get it, but it’s stupid.
It’s stupid, man. I mean, “a gust of wind just blew my dress up?” What the hell is that?
It’s a play on words. See, it’s a knock-knock joke, so what you do is, y-
I know what a knock-knock joke is. Yours just didn’t make any sense. I’m not even wearing a dress. Knock-knock jokes are already pretty much the stupidest thing on the planet, then you gotta go and make them even worse? That joke had absolutely no relevance, no context, and no humor. You’re an idiot.
I heard you the first time.
You’re supposed to say “who’s there,” then. Knock, knock.
Fine. Who’s there?
August you wouldn’t like that last joke, and I sure was right. Get it? “August” instead of “I guessed?”
You know what? Knock, knock.
Ima take a piece of wood, and Ima beat you over the head with it until you stop bothering me.
Hey, wait. That joke didn’t have any more relevance than mine did.
What do you mean?
I mean, you said mine didn’t make sense because you weren’t wearing a dress. Well, then, yours doesn’t make sense because you don’t have a piece of wood.
Sure I do.
Oh, yeah? Then where is i-
Right there, punk-ass.
Yeah, I bet you didn’t expect to make it all the way to this month only to be rewarded with a bunch of stupid knock-knock jokes, huh? Count yourself lucky—I was going to just post the above and call it good (the name of the post was gonna be In With A Bang--because of the, ya know, BANG sound?) Upon closer inspection, however, I realized that the above was lifeless, laughless crap, and decided to go ahead and add enough down here to compensate a little.
This is usually the post where we tell you all about what we have planned here at The Strangelands, but to tell you the truth, I got nothin’. I’m sure there will be some drunken ramblings from me, maybe about various air fresheners or perhaps about the downside of using fire to purge the sin from your life, but it’s too early to say, at the moment.
I’m guessing there will be something about monkeys (or maybe meerkats—last time I was home, my mom pointed out how cute they were, and I totally want to teach one how to smoke now).
Hopefully, Dave Riley will add a segment to his running story. And maybe Trey will even get drunk enough to post something. If I were you, I wouldn’t expect much more than that. Frankly, even hoping for that much could be dangerous for your tender psyche.
Anyway, that’s it. I just noticed that there’s a fruit-scented candle over on my refrigerator, and I should probably go see what it tastes like.
Welcome to August, everyone. Too late to feel like summer, too damn hot to feel like autumn.