Which side of the turnip truck did this idea fall off of?
Seriously. Like anybody would buy something called worsted. What kind of sick reverse logic marketing genius hell-bent on failure came up with this idea? Let's take good, itchy, stays warm when wet wool and worst it. Then tell people about it. It will be huge.
Social darwinism says that their offspring will not be attending a place of higher education, perhaps not even elementary school. At about that age they are ready to begin a hard but rewarding life as a shepard. Helps to have a pre-pubescent voice. It scares the wolves more when yelling.
At any rate, all those sheep that now make it to wool producing status due to the shrill little cries of a mentally challenged shepard have worsted wool to thank. Which in it's own way is a deliciously circular sort of ironic dependency. Much like the super-position of the electrons flailing about and generating the image of the cusor which creates the letters that keep appearing on the screen here.
Funny thing about worsted wool... there is no truck.
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment