After an extensive interview process, I've decided to grant the position to this radish.
Of course, this radish cannot speak, write, or type, and therefore this blog will be somewhat lacking in my characteristic bon mots, my nonsensical aperçus, or my insouciant observations. On the plus side, I now grow leaves out of the top of my head.
Please don't do this to me, though. I'm too young to be soupified.
7 comments:
Hi Tim II, welcome!
You'll be changing the name of the blog, post haste, I expect, given that you are, yourself, food?
Perhaps: "Will type on behalf of food", or particular food groups?
Perhaps...
Will Type As Food?
Speaking As a Vegetable...
Please Don't Soup Me!
Won't type - am food
By the way Tim, I've probably irritated you by again really enjoying something from the New Yorker before you've received the magazine!
That's quite a good one.
'Soupcons of wit from the Man Who Would Be Radish.'
You know I could take a sharp knife to you, cut little rows of petals, and dunk you in iced water to turn you into a pretty rose-radish garnish.
Aw, that would be so sweet, Caz.
Post a Comment