Yep, it’s that time again – time for me to issue my annual reminder against willingly wandering around in cornfields.
How many times do I need to say it? Walking through corn is just plain wrong! Do it often enough and one of these times you won’t come out the other end. Nor will you ever be heard from again. You’ll become one of those “Do you remember…” stories. Is that what you need to keep you from going into the corn, someone you know to be taken? Perhaps it is. Since you seem so unwilling to take my word on it.
The man who rents the field next to my mother’s house has planted corn there the last few summers. It wasn’t quite as bad this year. With it being so dry the corn isn’t near as tall as it was other years. So frickin’ what? I haven’t been there since it got to be waist high and I have no intention of returning until after it’s harvested. Call me paranoid if you choose but we’ll see which of us is still around once the corn starts swallowing people up.
I know you don’t believe me but corn is evil. The stalks that is. The ears are fine once they’re picked. In fact, I truly enjoy corn on the cob. When it’s not overcooked but that’s a different ramble. It’s only stalks en masse that present a problem. Doesn’t matter if they’re dried or green, they’re creepy. They move about, shifting at will. Oh not so much that you can actually catch them in the act. Just a teeny tiny bit now and then when you’re not looking. If you ignore them long enough you will be trapped, cut off from any avenue of escape and then you’re in for it. You may as well get it over with and kill yourself on the spot. Hey, better that than what’s in store for you if the corn gets you.
Don’t laugh. I’m dead serious here. But okay, don’t listen. Go wander through a cornfield in you must. All in the name of fun, right? Anyway, it’s been nice knowing you. Bet I’m your last thought as the corn closes in on you.
How many times do I need to say it? Walking through corn is just plain wrong! Do it often enough and one of these times you won’t come out the other end. Nor will you ever be heard from again. You’ll become one of those “Do you remember…” stories. Is that what you need to keep you from going into the corn, someone you know to be taken? Perhaps it is. Since you seem so unwilling to take my word on it.
The man who rents the field next to my mother’s house has planted corn there the last few summers. It wasn’t quite as bad this year. With it being so dry the corn isn’t near as tall as it was other years. So frickin’ what? I haven’t been there since it got to be waist high and I have no intention of returning until after it’s harvested. Call me paranoid if you choose but we’ll see which of us is still around once the corn starts swallowing people up.
I know you don’t believe me but corn is evil. The stalks that is. The ears are fine once they’re picked. In fact, I truly enjoy corn on the cob. When it’s not overcooked but that’s a different ramble. It’s only stalks en masse that present a problem. Doesn’t matter if they’re dried or green, they’re creepy. They move about, shifting at will. Oh not so much that you can actually catch them in the act. Just a teeny tiny bit now and then when you’re not looking. If you ignore them long enough you will be trapped, cut off from any avenue of escape and then you’re in for it. You may as well get it over with and kill yourself on the spot. Hey, better that than what’s in store for you if the corn gets you.
Don’t laugh. I’m dead serious here. But okay, don’t listen. Go wander through a cornfield in you must. All in the name of fun, right? Anyway, it’s been nice knowing you. Bet I’m your last thought as the corn closes in on you.
No comments:
Post a Comment