Who the duck?

Zuka Duka who?

Who the duck? is something you might ask yourself daily. And, truth be told, I do too. I have no idea why; it's just become part of my life. Let me give you a brief summary of my life thus far (as said by my neighbor, Frank):

	It pretty much fucking sucks. All he does is play with dolls all day, and stares at the mailbox.
—Frank, the neighbor

That' right, you heard him. I have any obsession with dolls. I do not know why. But i collect them. I collect them in whole crates. Barbies, Bratz, even G.I. Joes. I can't help it. I think I would die without it.

Once I have enough of these dolls, I either:

Blow them right the fuck up
Put them into a big giant soup I am making for a pot luck
Feed their chopped body parts to my brunkydunk. That right, I have a brunkydunk.

And now you may be wondering about the part with the mailbox. I sit there and wait for my explosives which I use to blow up my dolls to arrive. Even if I haven't ordered any.

Oh, wait, we're supposed to be talking about Who the duck?, right? I can't believe I got so side-tracked. Silly me, silly me.....

Back to the Who the duck? part. Wait, Who the duck would say who the duck? I honestly don't know. I just can't figure out why anyone who say Who the duck?

Except for me, of course. I like to ask this question to by collection of lettuce heads. Did I tell you about those? Oh, well, there's a great story behind those:

One fancy afternoon I saw it fit to go walking around town. And I henceforth did so. It wasn't too spectacular; only a lunar eclipse and two car crashes marked the notable events as I strolled two blocks down to the local butcher shop.

While I was there, I bought a pile of lettuce heads, and since they were called heads, I spent forty-eight years of my life carving accurate facial features of my own face into the lettuce. However, given I had no mirror, this proved difficult, so I randomly chopped bits out of the lettuce. But none of that matters now.

The end.

That's my story. And now, every day, I ask the same question to my heads of lettuce, my dolls, my hamsters (Did I tell you about those? There's another great story.):