I set the skeletal remains of the corn cob down on the small plate on
the couch. I meant no disrespect.

Jimmy crack corn and I don't care. No. Stop it. I do. I do care. This
was not crack. This was not crack corn. This was not even cracked
wheat.( For more on corn, see FML article on Zoos Ferret Sanctuary.)

It was just a smallish skeletal corn cob.

I saw the small mouth that opened up and grabbed the remains. I did
nothing. But it was because I thought it would be so easy to find that
cob again in a few minutes time. Don't you see?

How difficult could it be to find the remains of a corn cob, I asked
myself. The voices! Stop the voices!. I was wrong. All the searching
under furniture and in drawers brought no relief.

It has been approximately a week now. Sticking out of one of those
diabolical long metal play tubes ..I saw it. The lost is found. All
that glitters is not gold. In fact, it did not glitter at all. And
the remains are now at rest.

Please don't flame me...Ahhhm....or ask me where I just found the T.V.
channel turner thingy, or umm, the cats' peacock feather, or the er,
tube of laxatone.

These are stories for another day.

[Posted in FML 5730]