Wednesday, February 18, 2004

death has a sweet tooth

About 85 years ago, a disaster happened in Boston that we can “proudly” say we have the unique distinction of being the only city to suffer such a catastrophe: we had a Molasses Flood. You see, a tank holding 2.2 million gallons of molasses ruptured, sending a wave of sticky goop that was three stories tall down Commercial St. in the North End. Twenty-one people, a dozen horses and one stupid cat met their sugary demise.

Can you imagine what it feels like to drown in molasses? To get an idea, go ahead in your cupboard or fridge and take out your maple syrup. Squeeze a generous portion out into your hand, and then slap yourself in the face with it. Or better yet, your friend’s face. For the most accurate representation, they should be caught by surprise, so it is best to do it while they are sleeping. They may be mad at first, but once you start the eulogy honoring those who were lost, they’ll sober up. I mean, are they such a huge jerk that they would disrupt a ceremony of remembrance?

Can it really be that hard to get out of the way of molasses? Molasses is hardly a substance that is associated with speed. Quite the opposite really. Did they see it coming and think: “Well, I best get out of the way…. right after I finish this crossword puzzle. Hmmm, 8-letter word meaning sugar?” That’s just laziness on their parts. Especially that stupid cat.



Well, moving off the subject of confectionary negligence, it’s time to show that there are people that come to this site who aren’t looking for Orbit Gum Girl porn (you’d be surprised at the redirects I get). It’s Hip Hop Appreciation week, so use the Blog Board to the left to post your DJ/MC pseudonym. Best name gets a prize. Don’t worry, my timid, bashful readers, I’ll go first.

--Hawaii out

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