We had a bizarre experience today that has got me thinking...
Our satire quartet, the Montana Logging and Ballet Co. is gathered in Billings for a concert last night, and being but up in a nice hotel. We had a good sleep and were hungry in the morning. There on the desk sits a great basket of fruit, cheeze and biscuits that friends had sent which we set upon without delay. However, the whole thing was wrapped in plastic, tied with multiple decorative ribbons which had been twisted around each other. Like a determined monkey, my brother studied the knots carefully and tried to pick them apart but it was fruitless task (har, har). We really needed a knife.
Which we didn't have. We studied the surroundings, searching for sharp objects of any description, but we live in such safety-conscious times that not only prevent blades from going on planes, but open blades are generally hard to find in this environment. Our search became desperate. I applied all my brainpower to the elements at hand and was about to implement my brilliant plan: (take a [perfectly safe] plastic shaving razor, smash it in the door hinge, extract the blades and cut the damn ribbons) when Steve let out a cry of success. (His idea was not so pretty, but we did eat breakfast.
Our satire quartet, the Montana Logging and Ballet Co. is gathered in Billings for a concert last night, and being but up in a nice hotel. We had a good sleep and were hungry in the morning. There on the desk sits a great basket of fruit, cheeze and biscuits that friends had sent which we set upon without delay. However, the whole thing was wrapped in plastic, tied with multiple decorative ribbons which had been twisted around each other. Like a determined monkey, my brother studied the knots carefully and tried to pick them apart but it was fruitless task (har, har). We really needed a knife.
Which we didn't have. We studied the surroundings, searching for sharp objects of any description, but we live in such safety-conscious times that not only prevent blades from going on planes, but open blades are generally hard to find in this environment. Our search became desperate. I applied all my brainpower to the elements at hand and was about to implement my brilliant plan: (take a [perfectly safe] plastic shaving razor, smash it in the door hinge, extract the blades and cut the damn ribbons) when Steve let out a cry of success. (His idea was not so pretty, but we did eat breakfast.
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