I Am
I am the subway rails under the cars. On weekends I am the train tracks. Ride me, baby.
On Satan’s Day I am a delicious poisoned apple. On Christmas I am a delicious poisoned fruitcake. A literal fruitcake, not a derogatory figurative fruitcake. See also Ann Coulter or Zak’s Burger Emporium.
In 1984 I am polka dot hairspray. In 2084 I am the crumbling and decaying subway rails that go unused as the sole survivors have no electricity to take subway rides. Oh the fun that they have missed!
When people are clapping I am the particulates in the air that go on an exciting flight as their hands push me to some new, exciting, and less clappy place. When seals are clapping in a zoo, I am the drops of water that get a brief glimpse of the world outside the seal habitat. When frogs are clapping in their ponds, I am the jealous swamp who is living life completely frogless.
On Rabbit Day I am the cheese.
When happy paperclips are dancing on computer screens, I am the LVM volume on CentOS Linux that is being expanded to fit more birthday cake onto it. When people are forgetting to put birthday cakes onto their disk partitions, I am the sad clown who is poking pedestrians with dull paperclips.
On Hot Sauce Appreciation Day I am the seventh napkin from the top. On Alabama Day I am the slow, fat tourist who blocks the sidewalk as I look around cluelessly, unable to figure out how doors work in your crazy city. On Refractivity Day I am the bendy light that splits into billions of different colors, as if I was made out of magical pieces of light. I rock.
When you see me, do not be scared. I am physically incapable of biting people, and I have a doctor’s note to prove it.