I’m one of the most easily bored people I’ve ever met. I have the attention span of a walnut and my interest level in any said activity wanes faster than an addict’s bankroll on buy one get one free crack ball day. Does crack come in balls? I don’t know. I actually have no first hand knowledge of crack. That’d be an easy explanation as to why my brain runs off the rails so often, but I just think my rails are different from everyone else’s. Or perhaps they’re the same and I’ve just switched down a different track from the pack. I suddenly want to go buy a model train set. Woo-woo-buckaroo! A cowboy themed train set apparently. This opening paragraph is a great example of my lack of mental cohesion.
Anyway, listen. So I was watching one of the greatest cinematic epic tales ever to be recorded in the annals (2 n’s ok, 1 n-gross) of history. Of course I mean Kindergarten Cop. Arnold’s finest work opposite some rug monsters that yielded such wonderful gems as “It’s not a tumor”, “How are you?”, “Yeah”, “Stop it!”, and “Who is your daddy and what does he do?”. Through tears of giggliness, I noticed in one of the classroom scenes (I believe it was the one during the firedrill when the kid is happily dancing on the table yelling “I’m on fire! I’m on fire!”) that there was one of those old turny-crank handle versions of a pencil sharpener nailed to the wall by the door. Boy did that bring back memories of wasting time as a very small Monty.
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