Why has nobody ever nailed a paintbrush to a wall?

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Why is it always the paintings, never the paintbrushes, that get nailed to walls? I would like to see my laptop featured. Or perhaps the letters on my keyboard. Each and every one of them featured, one at a time. Today's featured article: the J key. From THE keyboard. Observe it.

I'm pretty sure I know it, but I want to be positive.

Looking down, I can see that I have two feet. They are both feet.

It's icky, isn't it? If I can bend over far enough, I can see myself bending over.

I am writing from the perspective of another person, but I am not.

"You look purple," I said, interrupting. Of course, it wasn't really me. THIS IS GETTING WAY TOO DEEP FOR MY TASTE. LIGHTEN UP, SHALL WE?

Only purple when looking down. Only purple when looking down. People are like yo-yos with barbed wire.

You've followed a link to a page written by a person who doesn't exist yet.
To create the person, click "go insane," and submit them. See a textbook on human anatomy for more info. If you are here by mistake, just click the back button.
The person may also have been deleted; see deletion log for details.

Press your ear to the ceiling...do you here a mumbling? It's your stomach. You need to eat.

Norway,

Sweden,

Cumberland,

Shoveling the driveway would be much easier with a flamethrower. Heck, cleaning up litter would be easier too. And taking care of old paper you no longer need. And getting rid of stains on your teeth. Hell, just set everything on fire. It'll be quite a time saver. Not to sound bleak. Like bleach. NOt to sound like bleach.

Laundry detergent. Fill your swimming pool with laundry detergent. Ensure clean bathing suits every time. Starch. He couldn't walk because of the police. He couldn't walk because of the Polish.

THERE is a nonsense word in the middle of OOMPLE this article. Can you find it? If you find it, open up your phone book and dial the first number you see and scream "I FOUND IT!!! I FOUND IT!!!" Keep talking to the person until you convince them to give you some sort of prize. Then, turn your television on and write a letter to the first person you see on the television. If you see yourself, you were either looking in the mirror or YOU, my friend, just made it onto the TV. Pat yourself on the back. Don't miss.

I know that must have seemed really world, but that's only because of the chair you're sitting in. If you bought another chair, it would make perfect sense. People who work in furniture stores know everything, because they have access to every kind of chair there is.

Some calculators provide answers, while some do not. The ones that do not are either off, or they will be very very soon. I have a calculator in my hand.

Hockey pucks.

Today's special?

The walls are now mumbling as well. I told you you need to eat, you moron. But you wouldn't listen.

Now, the walls are protesting loudly. Each and every one of them, but not about what you'd think they'd protest about. You'd think they'd be angry about all the windows.

I can hear a guitar. It sounds like a guitar. Funny, how can one describe that sound to someone who doesn't know what a guitar is? Make the noise...with what? A rubber band? A toothbrush? A...drawing of a guitar. That's it. Or a painting. Or the paintbrush you used to make the painting.

Or an eraser.

Nobody ever attaches erasers to walls. On the other hand, maybe they do. That would explain why they're all white.

Erasers...erasors? I seem to have forgotten how to spell that word. I can still hear the guitar. But erasors or paintbrushes. The choice is yours. Mine. I am writing from the perspective of the decision, the decision-maker, and the one who decided that a decision needed to be made.

All aboard.

A paintbrush on a wall. It'll make sense. A paintbrush on a wall.