Lt. Brookman
I never did get it. My lady lives in a flat. Where doesn't matter, I bet you'd wish you knew where she lived. Scary old ladies and a buxom atomic blond aside, a midget lives there as well. He, the midget gets into the elevator each day, rides it to the sixth floor and then walks the last two stairs to the eighth floor where he lives. I just couldn't wrap my head around it.
This has actually kept me up for nights. Why does the midget only ride to the sixth floor and never to the eighth where he lives? One night, my lady got very angry at me for fretting over something so stupid.
"Why?" I asked her with a quivering voice, depraved of sleep. "Why does the midget only ride to the sixth floor and then walks the the rest of the way."
Her reply was one of annoyance and a quiet wish of something unpleasant. "Because he can only reach up to the button for the sixth floor."
It all made sense and the urge to sleep returned.
How's that for something completely different?
This has actually kept me up for nights. Why does the midget only ride to the sixth floor and never to the eighth where he lives? One night, my lady got very angry at me for fretting over something so stupid.
"Why?" I asked her with a quivering voice, depraved of sleep. "Why does the midget only ride to the sixth floor and then walks the the rest of the way."
Her reply was one of annoyance and a quiet wish of something unpleasant. "Because he can only reach up to the button for the sixth floor."
It all made sense and the urge to sleep returned.
How's that for something completely different?
That is surely different.
:/