Partly Cloudy, 64°
Good evenin’, sir. Many thanks indeed for answering the door on such a stormy night, when the wind’s a-blowing and the snow’s a-swirling. It’s on nights like this that I must rely on the kindness of magnanimous souls such as yourself. For I am but a weary traveler hoping to gain shelter for the night and bury my pee pee around your house while you sleep.
I’ve been wandrin’ this land since I was a youth, ramblin’ my way from the delta to the mountains, across the great prairie and along the wide banks of the ever-winding river. I’m a traveling man, you see, driven across this country by the spirit of adventure, not a penny to my name. Which is why I’d be much obliged if you’d so generously allow me to slumber under your roof for the night, take a pee pee in a cup, take that cup around your house, and bury the pee pee in drawers, under rugs, and behind pillows as a kind of territory-marking ritual.
My, what a lovely house you have here! And a beautiful family as well, I’m sure. Me, I’m a solitary man. My roamin’ and ramblin’ ways require it. But every time I walk by a home round suppertime, and I see a family gathered together around a table, I feel a warmth arising in my heart for the loved ones there within enjoying the comfort of each other’s company. Then right after that I usually start thinking about the best places I could bury my pee pee in their house. One place I have never tried is the freezer. Does pee pee freeze? I don’t know, but I’d sure like to find out if you’d only be so kind as to put me up for the night.
I’ve been everywhere, friend. Seen this country up and down. From the glaciers of Alaska to the Florida bayou. My oh my, is it a plentiful land. Full of lakes and rivers, mountains and canyons, houses and apartments in which pee pee can be buried during the night under couch cushions and DVD players, maybe inside a fruit bowl or toaster oven. Yes, my friend, I sure do love this country, and the many hiding places for pee pee that it affords.
Of course, not everyone takes kindly to a poor, ramblin’ man just looking to lay his head to rest for the night and bury some pee pee in somebody’s wine cooler or jewelry box. Can’t say law enforcement ever been much of a friend to me. Heck, I’ve lost count of the times I’ve been run out of towns by high-minded sheriffs just for taking a nap in an abandoned barn, making a pee pee in a bucket, pouring that bucket out over some hay, and then burying that pee-pee-soaked hay in various residences in the area. Yes, sir, for a traveler like myself, the world is not always a welcoming place.
Which is why, if you’re feeling generous, I’d very much appreciate a stay in your home just for the night, my friend. I promise I’ll be gone in the morning when you wake up probably thanks to the powerful stench of my pee pee, which I will have spent the entire night burying in various nooks and crannies around your house. Tomorrow I’m heading south for the county line. Hear they’ve got oranges out there that you can pick right off the branch. Also a bunch of good homes to bury pee pee in.
