Words and Thoughts: Stav’s Off Strike, Here’s How
Hello again, alleged readers! S.O.S. Stav’s Off Strike. So much has happened since I last faxed you. The world is practically a different place! For starters, I finally counted to seven without stopping. As you know, this has been a major goal of mine for some time, and I’ve finally gotten past the distractions around the four to five transition. Perhaps even more impactful, I’ve moved my bowl of used construction nails a bit further away from my bowl of Werther’s Originals on my dimly lit “bowl shelf”. Perhaps most impactful, I’ve stopped striking!
Not the bowling kind of striking, I never started that kind of striking.
When we last corresponded, my requests were simply not being heard. Having exhausted all of my usual channels of communication at The Sorbonne, Arby’s, NASA, and with the 877-CASH-NOW people, I was left with no other options but to strike. And strike I did. I did not work, I did not forage, I did not drive a race car, and I, most regrettably, did not correspond with you, the alleged readers. However now, I can finally say, I feel that my requests have been heard.
Frankly, it was just one request; but a very important request: Make serving sour cream with a spoon a Class B Felony. In no way does serving it with a spoon make sense. With a spoon, to dole out the sour cream, one must do a humiliating, ritualistic, “shake the spoon wildly in the direction of your plate” dance, and even when the dance is performed perfectly, there will always be an immovable portion of sour cream that will cling to the concave portion of the spoon harder than a glue stick stuck to tape. And then when you’re done with the sour cream, there’s no good way to scrape the spoon. You try to fling some of the sour cream back into the container, but it doesn’t work (see aforementioned glue stick and tape). Then you stare at the spoon, and you think, I don’t want to waste this, but I also don’t want to just lick a spoonful of straight sour cream. Oh, the hours spent staring at the sour cream spoon, that I’ll never get back. It’s criminal. It’s insane. But leniency on the grounds of insanity has no place for something so vile as serving sour cream with a spoon. It’s Class B Felony vile.
As such, since we’ve last spoken, I’ve been lobbying out in front of Attica Correctional Facility. As far as I understand the legislative process in America, once you commit a felony, you are added to the committee that gets to vote on what new felonies to make. I haven’t yet committed a felony, and I don’t think I know any felons, but I know there’s at least four felons at Attica. I was asked to leave on several occasions by representatives from a number of law enforcement agencies. Yet my pursuit of justice would not be deterred. Finally, during negotiations with two State Troopers, the Deputy Warden, and an Animal Control Officer, I was assured that, “my request to make serving sour cream with a spoon a Class B Felony would be relayed to ‘The Felony Committee’”.
That’s all I wanted: to have my request heard. And now it has.
Things are looking up for ol’ Stav Knudsenen! And looking like 25 to life for anyone serving sour cream with a spoon.
The sour cream with a fork loop-hole discussion will be for another day.
