Episode 78

Reflections from the life and times of Mr. Smith. I was back in Smithville Florida at the secret NASA training grounds. I still had to change pickle history forever. I needed to go to the moon and take with me horseradish on a bun and back again. That way people would forget the pickle craze sweeping the nation. First, I had to be accepted by NASA. I had to come up with an awesome astronaut name of course. I was thinking about Buzz AllSmith, but it was already taken by the famous Buzz AllSmith, so I decided to become Buzz AllSmith the second. With this name, and some awesome shades, I waltzed into the NASA main building. I walked up and said “Yo yo yo! You know who I am!”The guard immediately snapped to attention and said “Yes SIR! You are the famous Buzz AllSmith! How can I help you SIR?” Then I paused, and reflected on life, and on security guards, and broccoli. Specifically the piece of broccoli between his two front teeth. Then, after pausing for a moment, I proceeded to demand to be seated on the space shuttle. Pretty soon, I was ready for lift off. I was going to be on my way to the moon, and I would make horseradish on a sandwich be more famous than a pickle on a sandwich. Because you see, astronauts are awesome.
    Thus ends this week’s reflections. And then my mirror image disappeared.

750ad7ec-642a-4d3b-9ebc-119b19300586

1.03.01

Episode 64

Reflections from the life and times of Mr. Smith. I had arrived in Smithville Florida. I put on my mustache and big nose disguise. First I surveyed the area. I had to look for a way into NASA’s secret testing facilities. I looked to my right, I looked to my left. I looked down the middle and *oomph* you take a bite! I was chewing tobacco. I was trying to look like a hick farmer from Kansas. I saw the Royal colors come down the road. It was the Queen, God save her. Her motorcade was coming down the road towards me. I put on my best British accent and spat out my tobacco. I said “ahoy there, mateys! I’m beholdin’ to ya to bring me into the inner courts for me buckos have let me down.” The motorcade stopped. I was guessing my English accent was working. One of the guards turned to me and said “What are you talking about, chap?”
“Uhh…” I stammered. “I wish to speak to the queen.”
Suddenly, God Save the Queen started playing, and her royal highness herself popped her head out of her limousine. “What’s all this rot??” She exclaimed. Bewildered by her sudden appearance, I immediately forgot my intentions. “Hurry up laddie…I’ve got to go to the loo!”
“The who?”
“The loo! Get out of my bloody way!”
The motorcade swiftly commenced on its way in a puff of smoke. Then I heard it. That unholy noise. Someone BROKE WIND.
“What was that?”
One of the guards solemnly turned to me and said in a perfect British accent, “The Queen broke wind, God save her.”
Thus ends this week’s reflections...and all that rot. And then my mirror image disappeared.

Episode 63

Reflections from the life and times of Mr. Smith. It was time for a trip again. I paused and reflected on life and pondered places to visit. After a while of pondering I decided I would like to go to the moon. It would be very succulent to stand on a huge ball of cheese. But it can be very expensive to go to the moon. I would have to hitch a ride with someone else. Preferably where they are paying. I paused and pondered the meaning of life, and pickles. Why, why I ask do people eat pickles on sandwiches, Instead of sandwiches on pickles? Then it came to me, NASA. They were responsible for many things. They were responsible for tooth paste tubes, and cats that don’t lick themselves. They were responsible for the pickle on sandwich craze sweeping the nation. After all it was the famous astronaut Buzz AllSmith who took pickles to the moon and back on a bun. It was he who ate said sandwich with a slice of moon cheese in all the commercials, selling the sliced pickle idea even more. I had to have a talk with these crazy people who seamed to think that pickles should only be a condiment. I was heading to NASA headquarters in Smithville Florida. My goal: change pickle history forever, and catch a shuttle ride to the moon while I was at it. Thus ends this week’s reflections. And then my mirror image disappeared.