Garmonbozia!

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I have related this to some but I wanted to share with the rest of the world. I'd like to think that the spirit of David Lynch was speaking to me saying this house was just weird enough to be home. You be the judge.

I met my landlady the first day I was here to go over the new house and sign off on everything. You know, the usual. Through the course of looking around we went into the garage. I knew I, indeed, found the right house when I looked on a bit of shelving and saw...



That's right. Your eyes do not deceive you and neither do I. Those are cans of creamed corn. 16 cans of creamed corn to be exact. The fact that there are 16 of them is overshadowed by the fact that if you'll notice, they aren't all the same type of can. About half are the regular can size and the other half are the squat, fatter kind of cans.

Let's all take a moment of silence and ponder this discovery...

...

WHAT THE HELL?!?

Maybe the previous tenants would go to the store periodically and one of them would say, "I can't remember, are we out of creamed corn?"

"Dunno, better buy a couple cans just in case."

And upon returning to their home, "Oh right, we already had some."

"Well, you can never have too much creamed corn I always say."

"You do always say that."

Maybe they were the neighborhood hard luck case and received gifts from the local canned food drives and thought it was bad luck to eat or throw away the cans of creamed corn.

Maybe they bought a can of creamed corn for their mutant daughter every year for her birthday until, on her sixteenth birthday, she broke free from her chains in the crawlspace and escaped and that's who I hear howling in the dead of night.

The possibilities are endless. The probabilities are unknown.





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