mister pants, part 10

Show me, show me, show me how you do that trick
The one that makes me scream she said.
— the prophet robert smith

“WE CANNOT LET THE CURE BE WORSE THAN THE PROBLEM ITSELF.”

Salazar had posted late Sunday on another of his post-Fox tirades.

Mister Pants wondered. Could the Cure be worse than the problem itself? He investigated.

He assumed that “the problem itself” he referred to was actually the punk bank The ProblemAddictsFl, a fine punk band. They reminded Mister Pants of the Mamas and the Papas, if the Mamas and Papas had been a fine punk band.

But still. Could the Cure be worse than them? Come on, we’re talking Robert Smith here. the hair and mascara alone are hard to compete with. But those songs. “Just Like Heaven.” “Friday I’m in Love.” “Lovesong,” the word’s saddest ode to romance.

But the tipping point would have to be Robert Smith’s guest appearance on “South Park,”  where he turned into a giant monster to protect the universe from harm. Mister Pants figures the world could use a little protection from harm these days.

How could Salazar assume the Cure worse worse than the Problem Itself? Maybe he’s a big punk fan. Or maybe he’s a big punk. Or maybe it’s the 3,285 cheap shots he has endured on “South Park. In any case, Mister Pants decided he would agree to disagree.

On the bright side, Ernie Pook wrote him to say all was well and he was on the way. Mister Pants headed out for an easy 3 miler on the bird loop, a song in his heart and doom on his mind.

Show me how you do it and I’ll promise you
I’ll promise that I’ll run away with you, I’ll run away with you …

About gary

no sock monkeys were harmed in the making of this blog.
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