Man With the Plan: I'm going to turn vultures into dragons.
Me: I'm not sure what to say about that. You're obviously a genius in math and science.
Man With the Plan: I'm terrible in math and I'm even worse in science.
Me: And you have a diabolical mad scientist lab.
Man With the Plan: I'm homeless. Any effort to have a roof over my head always ends up getting defeated by forces beyond my control.
Me: And you have dozens of vultures waiting to be turned into dragons.
Man With the Plan: I have no pet animals and I have no personal possessions. All efforts to own pet animals and all efforts to own personal possessions always gets defeated by forces beyond my control.
Me: And you have a vehicle to transport your doomsday animals to aid and abet your diabolical plan to turn vultures into dragons.
Man With the Plan: I'm being punished for drunk driving to such a degree that I'm not allowed to own personal possessions. I'm not allowed to own vehicles of any kind. I can't even ride a bike without being defeated by forces beyond my control.
Me: I'm confused. How are you going to turn vultures into dragons?
Man With the Plan: Because destiny is so irreversible that it will happen no matter what by forces beyond my control. And the irony will be giddy and ironic.
Me: I'm still confused. How are you going to turn vultures into dragons?
Man With the Plan: It's time for me to clap my hands for no reason whatsoever. I have an angle when panhandling for money. I'm able to panhandle for money while using the voice of Daffy Duck. Talking like Daffy Duck is useful when I'm trying to turn vultures into dragons and bulls into Minotaurs. And I shall find the lost colony of leprechauns suffering from leprosy.
The Man With the Plan was clearly insane. So I frowned as I walked away in the opposite direction.
And as I'm lost in thought in the Summertime, here are some photos of Josephine Skriver.
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