Hey peeps, this was almost very embarrassing.
I’ve been catching up on my napping for the last several days. In fact, I had to ask a neighbor what day it was because I thought, correctly, that I might have slept through a couple of days. How my bladder was able to hold up is a mystery that will likely never be solved. (Yes, I checked. My sheets and mattress are dry.)
All of that is irrelevant. The embarrassing part is that when I called into the Shalampax Speaks office I was told that my name was on the docket to provide today’s post.
Up until today, Shalampax Speaks has had a brand new post up here every single day for 181 consecutive days. Think about that. 181 consecutive days without missing a post.
I usually talk about existing Shalampaxian companies in this space, but today I’m going to tell you about an innovative business idea that a columnist right here at Shalampax Speaks, Stoneupnose, is working on. His plan is to capture his own natural gas and sell it on the open market.
Stoneupnose’s farting capabilities are second to none. What’s more, his farts have been tested and found to have extraordinarily high concentrations of methane, which makes them all the more valuable as a fuel.
There is one possible fly in the ointment. Natural gas prices are currently low, so Stoneupnose’s plan may not be economically viable at this point. However, this has not deterred him. He is investigating the feasibility of compressing his natural gas, storing it in large underground tanks and then selling it when natural gas prices recover.
Emptybucket asked me to pass along the following apology on his behalf. He deeply regrets that, due to unexpected circumstances beyond his control, he was unable to present last night’s scheduled lecture on Orienteering and Map Reading.
Unfortunately, Emptybucket was unable to find the lecture hall where the talk was to be held. After searching randomly for the room for approximately two hours, he inadvertently stumbled on the pub. Never one to pass up such a serendipitous opportunity, he stopped at the pub for a beer to quench the thirst that he had worked up due to his lengthy trek.
It was well past the lecture’s scheduled end-time when Emptybucket finished his beer, so he decided that there was no point in continuing his search.
This morning, I found Emptybucket sitting on the floor in front of the pub. He had spent the night there because he had no idea how to go about locating his apartment.
The owners, management and staff of the Shalampax Grocery Store have asked me to pass along an important message to their customers.
As regular shoppers are no doubt aware, the Shalampax Grocery Store sells a number of private label items. The store imports these goods in bulk and then repackages them in containers bearing the store’s own labels. The store usually offers at least one such product at a special sale price each month.
Last month’s special was labeled as:
Living on an island like Shalampax, which is quite isolated from the rest of the world, can cause problems and embarrassments.
For example, neither tea nor coffee are native to Shalampax, but we have been importing both for about four decades now. Despite almost forty years of experience with these beverages, we only very recently discovered that what we thought for all of these years were coffee pots are, in fact, intended to be used to brew tea. Likewise, what we thought were tea pots are actually supposed to be used to make coffee.
You would have imagined that this mix-up would have led us to brew inferior quality coffee and tea until we discovered our mistake. Surprisingly, this was not the case. However, that is primarily because we also only recently learned that what we thought was tea is actually coffee and vice versa.
I’m sure that all of my peeps reading this are well aware that Tuboflard, the Chief Medical Officer at the Shalampax Medical Clinic, is, to say the least, considerably less than enamored with her role as a mother of triplets. Thus, it will come as no surprise that Scurryingcockroach, a recent visitor to Tuboflards’ apartment, was shocked when she saw only two of the triplets playing in their baby litter box. The third infant was nowhere to be seen.
Scurryingcockroach feared the worst. (Or the best, depending on your point of view. Most Shalampaxians consider children to be a terrible bother.) Being still of child-bearing age, a panic set over Scurryingcockroach when she realized that, if Tuboflard had killed one of her infants, Scurryingcockroach herself might suffer the misfortune of being chosen to fill Shalampax’s population gap.
Without proof, Scurryingcockroach didn’t want to confront Tuboflard with serious allegations of evil behavior. However, Scurryingcockroach was eager to make those accusations, particularly in public, because her life is rather empty and she takes her entertainment wherever she can find it.