The recent designer psychedelic ‘ecstasy’ is the best-known derivative of kitchen-counter-over-ripe-cantaloupe. Middle school mothers all over Pleasantopia, upon finding scraped clean cantaloupe rinds in the sink, are recalling having often wondered aloud for years this common chant: “Hmmm. I thought for sure the cantaloupe was too over-ripe and I’d thrown it out..”
Pleasantopia fathers recall many times slicing a cratered collapsing cantaloupe on the counter for a quickie breakfast, and then reporting delightedly to their wives that night how unexpectedly creative they were at the company brainstorm session that day, and how management laughed and laughed and really relaxed and let their hair down in response to father’s antics tap dancing on the big conference table in the Board room and swinging from the corporate chandelier imitating Tarzan’s call, and then grabbing that humorless, aloof new female CEO running for governor and carrying her off to his ‘tree house.’
If you, too, recall any heavy cantaloupe trips, pleas DO TELL and post here.
by DoUgLaS kEnDaLl
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Email comments to: doug@DougKen.com
:-) <-- Required warning to the humor delinquent