The Windshield Wiper Widower

So I am (finally) home for fall break. After my 7 hour bus ride, I arrived home and surprised my parents. On the bus, I had planned to accomplish tons of work. When that obviously failed to be done, I decided to do some haiku writing. However, I even failed at that and only was able to crank out 4 haikus. I then solved 4 clues in the New York Times Crossword Puzzle, and then just stared into space for the remaining trip while trying to fall asleep.

While I was listening to the incredibly annoying "squuueeeeeeeeek...... squuuueeeeeeeeeeek..... squueeeeeeeek" sounds of the windshield wipers (which sounded remarkably like a tortured cat... not that I know the sound of a tortured cat) I realized something:

Windshield wipers are
One invention that cannot
Be abused by man


Yes, it may seem obvious, but I bet you've never thought of that. We always hear about all sorts of fantastic inventions of man kind being abused by power or simply being misused (for instance, a cane in the hands of William Zantzinger, a pipe in the hands of Colonel Mustard, or a microphone in the hands of Miley Cyrus). However, we never hear about people misusing windshield wipers. I wonder why that is (just wait till tomorrow when the "windshield wiper widower" serial killer strikes and proves me wrong). And yes, this is random, but I'm tired, so be quiet. And I'm home. Mmmmm, Tempurpedic.

For This is The Meaning of Life

So I would assume that all of you have been waiting with bated breath for this post, ever since that teaser trailer I released for the haiku. So here is the post. Prepare yourself, for the most epic post you will ever find on my blog (for today, at least... unless my afternoon post happens to be really good). This haiku is about a much-philosophized about issue, and is my take on it. You see, I follow life with a relatively simple view, as you will see with my haiku:

The meaning of life
Cannot possibly fit in
One little haiku


This is of course, a debatable stance. One might beg to dinner and say that the meaning of life is reproduction or 42 (which is actually the answer, I am sorry to disappoint). However, these are too small to fit, and too big to fit in the above haiku, which, as you can ascertain, has the proper number of syllables. So with that in mind, I came to conclude that the above haiku is not false, and is, on the other hand, quite true, even for someone with an incredibly simple manner of speaking. Or it might be possible in another language. Who knows.

This post is not nearly as epic or mind-blowing as I intended. So to compensate I will provide you with the following original short story. And by short story, I do mean a 6-word short story. I would never write a full short story. Don't be preposterous, for I am certainly not doing that for a class right now.

The sound of silence woke me


Yeh, wrap your mind around that one! (I will make up these posts to you in the afternoon, trust me).