These Words, These Words

Anthropomorphism. Octothorp. Fungible. These words! Hare, Hunter, Field. Nuremberg. Now, can I perhaps make a sentence of the above non-contextual references? Hmm. The anthropomorphized octothorp realized with impunity that the fungibility of hunting hares in a field is akin to holding trials at Nuremberg - it doesn't matter where the hunting or holding happens: both end rather badly for someone. What did he do then? The only obvious thing an impunitive octothorp can: he became a tic-tac-toe board. The very tic-tac-toe board, in fact, that decided the outcome of that land-war in Asia a few years ago. And the board that divided my erstwhile friends from me. Thanks, octothorp. Thank you, Thank you. At least I got three in a row; I suppose that's what counts, right? Tic Tac Toe, Three in a Row, Bobby got shot by a GI Joe. Mommy called the doctor. The doctor said, Sad. S'pose he's dead. Shots in the head:
They're usually fatal.
But shots - in the Irish sense - they can be rather fatal too, I'm told. Though I've never personally downed one. On the exasperatingly long (and all-too-short) family road trips of summer, when we stop at those lonesome, woebegone sentinels-of-convenience dotting the forgotten byways of archaic America, I stand in between crowded aisles of knick-knacks. I wonder, especially when fingering the dusty glass of souveneir shot glasses: Who actually buys these? Are there shot-glass collection conventions I'm missing out on? Well, considering that I've never swallowed a shot, maybe I am completely ignorant of shot-glass culture. Perhaps there is an entire shot-glass world I know nothing of; a realm of sorts, glorifying the fatality of shots (in the Irish sense). A realm filled with bespectacled shot-glass connesseuirs examining the precious rarities found across the states of New Mexico and Arizona by travelling groups of old ladies. These especially special glasses bear state flags and even - on particularly fortuitous occasions - catchy slogans. Things like, "I didn't die when I drove through the heat of New Mexico and this shot glass is proof of it by the way I love Lucy and things were better when I lived in Ireland before Bobby got shot" Maybe I should start a shot-glass collection of my own. The next time I see a shot-glass in a convenience store, maybe I should buy it (especially if it boasts something like "Cheap shot" or some other hilarious, highly clamored-after slogan). Perhaps if I keep it for a few hundred years, it will really be worth something someday. Wow, this is quite caustic. I think I will wrap up these words with a light-hearted nicety:
It's been so great talking to you! Thanks for reading my blog! :)
Oh, thank you. You're too kind! Aww, you're so sweet!
Or, since niceties are fungibles, how about:
Hey! How are you? I'm doing fine. Pretty good, I guess. Oh no!
Sorry about that! Well, ciao for now! :) I can't wait to see you again!