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[side_show]

In a wicker basket with a note attached to it that said 'Please give him a good home."

~Paul

There's Something About Paul!  - a short film

(Close-up on Paul, lying in basket, smiling, waiting expectantly.  Melanie opens door,  sees basket, looks inside, sees Paul.  Beat.)

Melanie (dead pan): I am not going to be changing your diaper.

(Melanie slams the door.  Wide shot of basket on steps.  Time laps: shot of the basket as the sun sets, the moon rises.  Sound cue: the not too distant sound of baying wolves.)

fin.

[jough]

The award-winning playwright, ladies and gentlemen.

I expect this brief 1/137th act to be in your complete plays book, published posthumously.

[misterqueue]

CLUE: The place is named "Krampsville."

Yes, that is the only reason I actually drove there.  "Krampville? Oh hell yes!"

*45 minutes later*

"These kids are just driving around in a circle for hours.  What the hell is this?  Hey!  What are you guys doing?!"

"We're driving the strip dude."

"Oh jeezus... I-.. I didn't know shit like this happened not too far away."

[V-Adore]

Another place Paul might have trouble having a good time: Pittsfield, MA, home of the largest concentration of people standing on the sidewalk staring into space that I've ever seen in my life.

[pmcd9]

Paul is going to Greek Festival.  Y'all try to make the most of your pitiful lives while i'm away.

~Paul

[side_show]

Paul, I know we are all working toward more healthful lifestyles, and I know what follows is not the sort of suggestion I would normally make to someone who I know is on Weight Watchers, but since you just implied that our lives are pitiful, I will punish you thusly:

You are going to a Greek Festival?  Be sure to eat all the taramasalata you can get your hands on - preferably with big wedges of fresh pita for dipping.  Because if there is a Greek food that is close to a mouth orgasm, it is basically taramasalata.  Enjoy!

[misterqueue]

Also one word: spanakopita.

Serious.

[Drygioni]

Paul could not have a good time in Swindon.

This looks like fun, as does this, this, this, this, and this.  But Swindon is just a hop, skip and a jump from London, so I would guess that it's pretty easy to just get to down to London if your bored with Swindon.

~Paul

Damn, I've lived here all my life and I did not know about any of these places. Foxie's Lap Dancing, here I come! (However, Swindon is not a 'hop, skip and jump' from London. It is about 80 miles away, which is FAR.)

When Paul walks through the grey, drab town of Swindon the sun bursts out from the clouds as chavs and 10 year old smokers cartwheel behind Paul in perfect synchronisation; our man from Dallas sings out in a deep sonorous voice about something delightful.

[misterqueue]

( It is about 80 miles away, which is FAR.)

By 'merican standards, 80 miles is a nice little day jaunt.  It's a problem of space vs perspective really.

[AugustWest]

What's the old saying?

In England, 100 miles is a long way.
In America, 100 years is a long time.

[jough]

80 miles?  That's like a 45 minute drive away.

[AlohaDawg]

Is there anyplace Paul could NOT have a great time?  It could be a competition.

PMITA prison?

[wombat]

80 miles?  That's like a 45 minute drive away.

Remind me never to let Jough drive me anywhere.

[side_show]

When Paul walks through the grey, drab town of Swindon the sun bursts out from the clouds as chavs and 10 year old smokers cartwheel behind Paul in perfect synchronisation; our man from Dallas sings out in a deep sonorous voice about something delightful.

Judy, you have just won some kind of award.

[jough]

Remind me never to let Jough drive me anywhere.

Thank you for getting my joke.