When trying to access the page to create a new post, I received a message that said: "We've detected an error, we suggest that you clean your cache of cookies."That got me to thinking ... Just what happens to those disabled cookies anyway? Do they go to an Old Cookies Home? Do they receive decent care? Are they offered rehabilitation?
Before Old Hoss realizes there is an oppurtunity to make a pile here, I think that maybe I should take the initiative this time. I'll set up shop designing and manufacturing products for these poor disabled cookies.
The next time there is a cookie-tastrophe for these poor all but forgotten little guys, The Pointmeister will be there with a line of cookie crutches, canes, wheelchairs, and various sundries. I'll even have a line of prostheses for gingerbread men and women who have suffered the trauma of missing limbs. There will be plenty of IV equipment for emergency
transfusions of dough. There will be treadmills, exercise bikes, rowing machines, and an olympic cookie sized pool filled with milk. As I am writing this, I'm already working on the plans for a tiny cookie scooter.Of course, I will have to build an Old Cookies Home that will make them feel at home. Where else would disabled cookies feel at home, but in a brand new gingerbread house? Should any of them happen to go to that cookie shop in the sky during their stay there, they can always be immortalized as a roofing slate or a garden patio.
I have been receiving applications for the staff position openings. Pending a background check, the chief physician and head nurse will probably be Mr. Hansel and Ms. Gretel. They both list in their resumes extensive experience working in gingerbread environments.
Hopefully I can make a pile of dough of my own on this undertaking. I wouldn't want to end up with a worthless pile of unkneadable dough.
No.495
1 comment:
Dear Miss Conduct:
You are going in the looney bin, soon's as I can find one in your neighborhood. (I wouldn't want you to miss going home for lunch.)
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